Chapter 195
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Translator: Prime Works
Chapter: 195
Chapter Title: The Hole-Drillers (2)
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"Once upon a time, long long ago, when the treated water had relatively good quality—coliform group under 1,000 (100mL, MPN), biological oxygen demand (BOD) under 2mg/L, and maximum turbidity under 10 degrees—they adopted the slow sand filtration method."
"...Hold on."
"Raw water from groundwater, dam water not yet eutrophied, lake water, or unpolluted river water is processed this way to remove small amounts of turbidity and trace organics. In slow sand filtration, the water passes slowly through relatively thin sand layers, thereby..."
"Um... wait..."
"This action also removes trace ammoniacal nitrogen, manganese, bacteria, and odor-causing substances from the turbidity. When the annual maximum turbidity is under 10 degrees, no settling basin is needed. For 10 to 30 degrees, a plain settling basin is usually installed, and for over 30 degrees, a coagulation settling basin is used."
"...Zzz, snore."
Scheherazade's head snapped back.
Soon, loud snoring echoed through the room.
A satisfied smile crept across Lloyd's lips.
'Good.'
Judging by how dead to the world Scheherazade was, he'd drained her completely during the day.
Probably thanks to Haviel working her hard with swordplay.
He turned to Haviel, who stood nearby.
He signaled with a hand gesture.
"All done. Open your ears."
Haviel reacted to the gesture.
He deliberately unblocked his hearing.
"It's over?"
"Yeah. Disappointed you missed the lullaby?"
"No. Not at all."
Haviel shook his head, face stiff.
Lloyd's smile turned mischievous.
"Not at all? For real? Honestly?"
"Yes. Absolutely."
"I bet deep down you wanted to hear it. Admit it."
"No, I didn't."
"Picture it. Falling asleep all comfy. Lullaby whispering in your ears as you drift off to dreamland. No pain, no worries. Perfect rest. Even your calluses melt away in total relaxation. Limber. Warm. Cozy. Floating. Just thinking about it... Ahh. Sounds great, right?"
"......"
"You know what? Your eyes just glazed over a bit."
"......"
"Whoa, no need to snap out of it and glare."
"......"
"Now you're giving me that dead-fish stare?"
"...Hoo. Seriously."
Haviel let out a deep sigh.
Annoying.
Infuriatingly so.
Part of him wanted to flick Lloyd on the forehead.
If this weren't the young master he served, he definitely would have.
But there was no time for that now.
It was time to get to work.
"Same as yesterday?"
"Yeah."
Haviel quickly shelved his bubbling resentment toward Lloyd.
Instead, he calmly asked about the day's tasks in a businesslike tone.
Lloyd nodded.
"There should be spots I marked during the day."
"Keep the tunnel size and slope the same?"
"Yeah. Marked the guidelines just like yesterday. Follow them."
"Got it."
Haviel stood up.
He grabbed his sword.
Just like the past few days.
He threw on a sturdy leather vest over his simple shirt.
He also donned a mask to protect his nose and mouth from the thick dust.
"Then rest up a bit, sir."
"Yeah. You be careful too."
"Understood."
Lloyd would probably nap for a couple hours as usual, then head to the site.
So for him?
Dig the designated spots until Lloyd arrived.
Drill precise holes in the assigned sections.
With that in mind, Haviel left the lodging.
He headed to the qanat construction excavation site.
As he traveled to the site, he recalled everything they'd accomplished in this city.
'Already two months?'
It had been two months since they arrived.
The first month, he was stuck in the lodging.
While Lloyd did surveying and design, his routine was bickering with Scheherazade.
Luckily, it wasn't boring.
It served as decent sparring and stimulus to push his swordsmanship higher.
Then Lloyd finished the tunnel survey and qanat design.
From the intake well at the distant western mountains' foothills to here—a 36-kilometer straight-line tunnel.
That day marked the start.
'When was the last time I slept properly? A month ago?'
In the second month, sleep was a luxury.
Simple reason.
Daytime: Spar with Scheherazade to keep her occupied.
Nighttime: Head to the site and dig like mad.
Extreme fatigue was par for the course.
Dizziness hit sometimes too.
Even with a mana heart denser than a typical swordmaster's, bolstered by the Asrahan Heart Method for stamina.
But Haviel didn't care.
No, he was enjoying it.
There was an easy way to knock Scheherazade out instantly and rest, but he didn't.
He deliberately sparred all day, pushing himself to exhaustion.
'Overcoming extreme fatigue hones me bit by bit.'
He wouldn't settle for swordmaster anymore.
He'd elevate the Asrahan Heart Method further too.
Ordinary methods wouldn't cut it.
Half-hearted resolve was worthless.
Haviel knew that bone-deep.
To reach swordmaster, he'd transcended human limits.
To go beyond now? Shed humanity entirely.
Endure every adversity.
Overcome it.
Uncharted territory.
No one had trod or reached it.
Challenging the superhuman realm.
So this hardship? Expected.
He arrived at the site, resolved to conquer today too.
"Start from over there, they said. Follow me."
A rebel guard guided him.
He walked the long tunnel.
Along the way, he spotted traces of Lloyd's daytime work everywhere.
'Lloyd blocked off all passages in the existing tunnels not for the waterway.'
Piles of bricks and cement everywhere.
Most original passages sealed tight.
Likely to prevent water from flowing astray in the finished qanat.
'Lloyd must've busted his ass all day too.'
To an outsider, those bricks and cement might seem simple blockades.
But not to Haviel.
He knew how tough waterproofing was now.
From countless construction experiences.
That seemingly simple cement wall.
That plain brick wall.
All born from effort.
Meticulous engineering calculations, deliberation, experience.
Construction was the same.
Good design didn't guarantee good results.
So more care, effort, dedication was needed.
Gather Bangul's volcanic ash from eruptions diligently.
Mix it well so the cement doesn't crack.
Align bricks precisely in size and angle.
Check positions and angles.
Thickness sufficient?
No tiny gaps for leaks or moisture?
Stack, smear, inspect every detail.
'Where did Lloyd learn all this?'
Once just a playboy young master.
How'd he master this without family or him noticing?
'He joked about learning from a dream school.'
He remembered.
Back when Viscount Racona tampered with the river.
During the water pollution crisis, building the aqueduct.
He'd asked Lloyd where he learned it.
Lloyd joked: In dreams, he attended a wondrous unseen university.
Studied construction nonstop there.
That's how he could do it.
'Maybe that wasn't a joke.'
He'd dismissed it as flippant deflection.
Now? That absurd answer might be true.
"Here it is."
The rebel's voice snapped Haviel from his thoughts.
He looked up.
They'd reached the tunnel's end.
Semitransparent marks glowed bluish on the rock wall: points, lines, planes.
Lloyd's construction guidelines.
A note beside it too.
Instructions for the work.
[While you dig this, I'll sleep soundly. Fighting.]
"......"
Should he head back and smack him?
Haviel gripped his sword tighter.
♣
Qanat construction continued.
Same routine daily.
At sunset, Haviel "clocked in" at the site.
He dug per Lloyd's guidelines.
Each sword flash: precisely controlled blast.
Instantly, a 20-meter hole.
Width: 60 cm.
Height: 1 meter.
Barely room for one person.
Seemed narrow at first glance.
But calculated for efficiency and stability.
'Of course. Wider increases collapse risk sharply.'
Wider tunnel means more earth pressure.
Higher chance of cave-in.
That's why.
Lloyd planned to finish fast.
Optimal waterway size.
Two criteria:
Max size self-supporting without supports like steel beams, shotcrete, rock bolts.
Min space for post-completion maintenance access.
Thus: 60 cm wide, 1 m high.
Countless simulations too.
After decades or centuries of water flow, collapse probabilities per section.
Varied soil and rock compositions tested endlessly.
Haviel suffered for it.
"Hoo, haa!"
Tunnel too cramped for waterway.
1 m height: always crouch to move.
60 cm wide: hard to turn or swing sword.
Yet the iron-blooded knight pushing swordmaster limits complained not.
Accepted all hardships as training.
Boom—!
Each blast extended the waterway.
Linked existing tunnels via shortest path.
Like capillaries under the earth.
After Haviel's night digging, Lloyd took over mornings.
"La la la~ Boom time!"
"Bangul!"
Fwoom—!
Bangul's volcanic eruption for ash.
Mix ash into solid cement.
Seal passages with cement and bricks.
Keep waterway water from leaking astray.
'If not sealed, disaster. Stagnant leaks breed bacteria massively.'
That'd contaminate the whole qanat.
Wasted effort fetching water.
Lloyd sealed off all non-waterway sections tight.
Iron-blooded knight drilled.
Noble young master sealed.
Night and day, repeat.
Ten days, half month, one month, two.
Waterway from Kandara outskirts finally reached western foothills intake well.
"Today, we put the final period on this long construction."
Completion day eve.
Lloyd gathered Haviel and all rebel workers.
On ground above the well, at the endpoint.
He addressed them all.
"You've all worked incredibly hard."
Emotion swelled on Termes and the rebels' faces.
They'd toiled together, dust-covered day and night.
'Obviously. Without them, it'd take way longer.'
Lloyd felt grateful inwardly.
Would he have sealed extras alone?
No.
Rebels hauled cement and bricks.
They cleared excavated dirt.
They drilled countless 20m-deep vertical shafts every 100m.
For future access from surface to qanat waterway maintenance.
'They handled all the grunt work.'
Construction isn't solo.
Workers unite, help each other.
Sometimes friction, petty gains/losses.
But unite for the final shovel.
That's the site. Construction.
"So that's why. We who gladly ate dust together must share the final moment."
"Uh, so we all shovel the end together?"
Termes asked as Lloyd finished.
Lloyd smiled faintly.
"No. That'd be bad."
"Huh? Bad how...?"
"You'd die."
"......"
Termes fell silent.
Lloyd's smile deepened.
"You might not know, but only 3 meters of rock wall left between our waterway end and intake well. That well? Over 30m deep from surface. Tons of backed-up water, insane pressure."
"So when we breach that wall to connect..."
"Yep. Water explodes through with massive pressure, sweeping the waterway. Whoever breaches last..."
Lloyd sliced his throat with his hand.
"Gone."
Fact.
Connection pressure unsurvivable by humans.
No escape.
Ancient Middle Eastern qanat builders...
"Got a plan in mind?"
"Yes."
Lloyd nodded.
Of course.
"One sacrifices."
Ancient Middle Easterners did.
Eldest worker decorated the finale.
Solemnly, calmly swung the last pickaxe.
Connected waterway and well.
Died.
Sacrificed willingly for descendants' clean water.
"But nah, no need for one of us to die."
Obviously.
Middle East then is then.
Here is here.
No need to sacrifice healthy folk.
Especially with an undamageable entity available.
"Right?"
Lloyd grinned, peering past the rebels' shoulders.
They turned.
All eyes to the rear.
Beyond rocky foothill mound.
A hunched skeleton soldier poked its skull out.
Raised bony hand to all.
As Lloyd taught: Instead of salute, Korean finger heart.
Pop!
From Frontera territory, over mountains, across desert to Lloyd: Skeleton squad leader Turtle Neck.