Oasis (2)
That evening after my speech at the oasis, in my office. Even the small dining table there was on its last legs thanks to Kyu-ing, but it was still holding up for now. On it lay the list of territory residents who'd volunteered for unpaid labor.
"There really are some who signed up."
Haul stared at the list in surprise.
"Haul, you signed up too."
"Well, yeah..."
I'd called Haul to the manor just a bit earlier to ask why he'd volunteered for unpaid labor again.
"So? Why'd you do it? Same as with the mine."
Unpaid labor. In other words, slavery. Doing that voluntarily meant either your brain had a hole in it, or you had a damn good reason. Haul didn't strike me as the former, so there had to be a reason.
"Hm. No point hiding it. I heard that while I was out earning money and food across the continent, you went to see my wife."
What the hell. A married guy leaves, and the Geumtaeyang goes to visit his wife? This was straight-up NTR territory. Was he playing slave to kill me? And right now? But I hadn't even had sex since graduating from the academy, let alone touched a woman. Except for Hera a few days ago.
"......"
"Why do you look so uneasy, my lord?"
"No, it's just..."
"My son's death wasn't your fault, my lord. Everyone's struggling. My son, Aron, was weak from birth."
"Ah..."
Aron. I knew that name.
'My son, Aron, died... because of you... sob...'
I remembered not just Aron, but many names. And most of those people were gone. Even with the saintess here now making things better, some couldn't hold on. Weak children or the elderly. Aron had been one of the former.
I sometimes went out to inspect the territory. As lord, I had to keep observing it steadily. To plan its development and layouts. But I didn't want to go out. Day or night, it wasn't rare to hear wailing in my ears.
In a hopeless territory, there was only one reason for crying: losing a child or parent.
Every time I went out on inspection, I visited those houses. Sometimes they wouldn't open the door. Sometimes I'd get glares of resentment, or stew thrown at me, soaking my clothes. Even so, I told them:
'I'm sorry.'
It wouldn't ease their grief, but the weight of responsibility as lord crushed me. The words came naturally.
I didn't say we'd get better, that I could do it. They'd already lost someone precious, and the dead don't return. So I just had to keep moving forward. That way, it wouldn't happen again.
"Did your wife come by during the day too?"
"No, she didn't. My wife... she still resents you, my lord."
"...Can't blame her."
"I wanted to blame you too when I heard my son died. But... when I saw you after so long, you were bleeding, being urgently carried off by the Holy Knights."
"......"
"So I asked later what happened, why you were hurt like that. And I learned you'd gone into the collapsed mine yourself to deal with the monsters."
"Not all of them..."
"Still, hearing that shamed me. In this hard place where everyone's struggling, I was blind to you standing at the front, ready to resent you instead."
"...You're the unusual one."
"Haha. My wife knows deep down it wasn't your fault. She resents you because she loved our son too much. Please forgive her."
"I don't think I have the right to forgive. I just want this territory to improve, and I have to make it real."
"That's how you seemed. After recovering from that major injury, seeing you act for the people... I couldn't just sit still. So I gathered people."
Haul went around the territory telling the men: let's go into the mine together. It might be unpaid now, but it'll make our territory better faster. But the responses were cold.
'No money's one thing, but no food? How do we do hard labor like that?'
'Even if we do, can that lord really do anything right?'
'Help a lord like that? Hell no.'
Most said stuff like that, but others did sign up.
'Fine, let's try it.'
'For the old Toypus lord, at least once.'
'If he runs off with topaz, we hunt him down and beat him.'
What they had in common? They'd all heard me say I was sorry in person.
"We decided to wait a month or two. If you really ran off with the ore, we'd catch you somehow."
"Ha, haha..."
Yeah, to survive in a place like this, you needed that kind of grit.
"Then you came back, like erasing those worries. And you solved the biggest problem: water. Incredible magic. Must be precious, water endlessly pouring out..."
I'd told the residents the oasis water came from magic and magic tools. No need to say Dragon Heart and cause issues. Dragons were objects of fear and awe, even if not as threatening as monsters.
"My lord."
"...What."
"Use me however you want."
"For free?"
"Not forever."
"Ahem..."
I'd asked just in case, and sure enough, he didn't want eternal slavery. Not that I wanted that.
"To be honest, I figured stepping up first would mean more rewards later. So my wife... and daughter won't starve or get sick."
"Haul."
"Yes."
"Right now, I can't give you much. But."
Desert or not, you could farm. Limited crops, sure. They usually needed three times the water of normal fields, but now our territory had replicating water. Date palms. Corn. Wheat. Grapes. Four crops I knew offhand. Toypus records even had how to grow them.
These took at least a year to yield. Half the Vanderbilt trade money would go to food in that time. But even that couldn't evenly supply the whole territory forever.
For the territory to really run, residents had to work.
'This is the start for that.'
In about ten days, Vanderbilt's people would arrive with food and mine expansion materials. I'd prioritize distributing to Haul and the unpaid volunteers—as reward for their work.
Starving residents would complain why not them, but no choice. Ignore the backlash, keep the flow: work gets rewards.
Luckily, our territory would have plenty of jobs. A mess of a place needing fixes everywhere.
"Once food arrives, you'll get paid for the work so far."
"That's more than enough. Now my daughter can eat her fill."
"Good. You can go now. From tomorrow, handle the tasks I assign."
"Yes, sir. Leave it to me."
After that short talk with Haul, I met each volunteer one by one. Just over twenty, so plenty of time. But by my standards, way too few.
I'd said unpaid till food came, then proper pay—but only twenty? With that number, the volunteers were the weird ones.
Most residents were probably too weak, too hungry to even think of working.
Still, I was sure: seeing food come and workers paid would make others want in.
"Mine alone needs three jobs, plus territory repairs and supplies. Twenty's nowhere near enough."
Busy, so busy. Not many volunteers, but I had to handle, assign, and file them solo.
Yet this busyness felt welcome. The more hectic, the more it felt like the territory was finally rolling properly.
......
Day by day, the oasis water level rose. The rate slowed, but volume held, so it'd soon fill over seventy percent of the original.
The unpaid volunteers worked hard at their tasks. One or two quit from exhaustion, but I didn't stop them. Each was precious now, but they'd lose most.
I figured they'd re-volunteer soon.
After a week, over ten residents a day tried rushing the oasis for water and got stopped. Bound to happen, but still low numbers.
I didn't punish them. I understood, told them once stored water stabilized they'd get some, and sent them off.
I kept drinking cactus water too.
But something to consider: the Dragon Heart's output was finite. Couldn't squeeze more on demand. Needed to measure properly later.
Probably couldn't let everyone drink freely. That'd make my words to Haul's daughter and residents lies.
Had to solve that. Water had to be drinkable as desired.
Five days later, Vanderbilt's people finally arrived. What I wanted was here: more food and seeds than the initial payment to Lunaros, plus mostly lumber.
...But unwanted extras too.
"Who the hell are you?"
"Ah, hello..."
"Rude, but fun. Keep going."
Hera was Lunaros's disciple, so fine, whatever. But that lizard-head. Why was Eldra here?
The dragon who should stick by Arthur, chosen hero of Pel, found him interesting? Yet here she was, staring at me.
Her eyes—slitted predator eyes—like I was intriguing. Or prey.