Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: Beacon Towers
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"A barrier..."
"With a barrier in place, we can delay any enemy invasion."
"That makes sense."
If barriers were built along the entire border, with sentries patrolling each section, no one would dare invade Heukrin recklessly.
But Jaol had to point out the flaw in Rakrak's thinking.
"Building a wall that long would take far too much time, though."
"How long?"
Jaol had overseen nearly every aspect of constructing Heukrin's capital, Oradun.
There were individual architects more skilled than her, but no one had her sharp eye for planning massive structures.
"To serve as a proper barrier, it would need to be as tall as Autong Fortress's walls—maybe even taller."
Since Rakrak had claimed Autong Fortress, it hadn't faced any significant invasions.
But its walls had gained fame only because no well-organized armies existed in the previous era.
Autong's walls stood five meters high, but a proper army could fashion ladders and scale them with ease.
Rakrak nodded, signaling his understanding.
"We can't build it like Autong's walls, either—piling up earth. The valleys around Autong have plenty of stone but little soil. Out in the wasteland, the ground freezes solid in winter, then turns to mush in summer as the water inside thaws."
Earth was abundant and perfect for low walls.
But it wasn't ideal everywhere.
"Stone is just as common. We could stack stone first and brace it with earth to build higher than Autong. The artisans building houses in Oradun have gotten skilled at selecting and setting stone evenly—they'd excel at walls too."
"Good."
"The problem is quarries aren't that plentiful. Stone's easy here with the mountains nearby, but up in the wasteland, transporting it from quarries would take time and manpower."
Jaol said,
"Even using every available person and all our funds, it'd take a hundred years."
"I see."
Rakrak nodded lightly.
"I figured two hundred."
Jaol snorted as if to say, You know better.
"No one lives two hundred years. Lizardmen don't even reach a hundred."
"No need to teach me what I already know."
"Then what? Give up?"
"No. It was my initial idea, but you've shown its problems. So I refined it. ...Got more paper?"
Jaol set down the bundle of paper she'd brought as a gift for Rakrak.
Rakrak took a sheet, pondered briefly, then drew slowly.
It was a map again, but this one depicted a much narrower area in fine detail.
"On the way through the wasteland for the Renar attack, we found a river flowing north here. Even downstream, the current was pretty swift. A small group of about twenty gnomes lived there—they said even in winter, the surface freezes enough for people to cross, but wagons can't."
Jaol listened with interest.
As Rakrak described, some of those drawn lines could be omitted.
"And here. We didn't notice until we arrived, but it's a swamp. One warrior tested it voluntarily—submerged up to his nostrils and still hadn't touched bottom."
"Not even cockatoos could cross that, let alone wagons."
"Exactly."
Jaol tapped her protruding fangs thoughtfully, then spoke.
"I get what you're saying. Even in the wasteland, there are natural features like that—effectively acting as barriers. But even assuming they're spaced evenly, the gaps are still huge."
"Using those stone walls as a baseline, how long would it take?"
"Eighty years... no, maybe seventy."
Jaol said,
"At that point, it might just barely be possible if you devoted your whole life to it."
"But I can't spend my life just building walls. And it's too slow anyway. In seventy years, enemies could invade our lands a dozen times."
"Then we'll scrap it."
"I have another idea."
Jaol didn't mock Rakrak for his plans failing twice.
"Show me as many as you like."
Rakrak nodded and drew the next sketch.
Not a map this time.
"A wall's job is to delay enemies until I or other warriors arrive. What if we flip that?"
"For example?"
"Instead of delaying enemies, what if we call allies faster?"
"Cockatoos are fast enough already. Faster than horses or great weasels. We can't make them go quicker. Cockatrices are faster, but not everyone can ride one like you."
"There's something faster than cockatrices that anyone can use."
"What's that?"
"Fire and smoke."
"But..."
Jaol, about to say no one could ride fire and smoke, paused in admiration.
A rider on cockatoo racing in was a messenger bearing news of enemies.
Fire and smoke didn't need to carry messengers.
Just the information.
"If sentries spot enemies here, they light a fire and smoke signal. The next post sees the distant blaze and lights their own. Repeat that, and the alert spreads faster than cockatoos—or even cockatrices."
What Rakrak had drawn looked like five stone altars.
Each with a platform for burning wood.
Beacon towers.
"Standing in the wasteland, you can see about four thousand paces to the horizon. Higher ground lets you spot even farther, and a dangerous enemy force would be visible from that alone."
"Why five?"
"One always burns to check if sentries are at their posts—sign of peace. Two means enemies spotted."
"And then?"
"Three for enemies approaching. Four if they reach a beacon tower. Five when battle erupts."
Rakrak wasn't just signaling presence or absence—he was gauging severity. Jaol agreed.
More flames meant greater urgency, letting them adjust troop numbers sent to the border.
"This covers the wasteland plenty. It's not an attractive invasion route for enemies anyway."
Jaol chimed in.
"Right. They have to cross it for the North Coast, but to reach Oradun, they detour hugely—stretching supply lines."
"Exactly. Supplies mean wagons constantly shuttling—three or four times farther than via Autong. Raiders skipping supplies find few villages to pillage, and deeper in, water gets scarce."
"True. Starving's bad enough, but no water means they can't fight properly."
Rakrak said,
"So wasteland crossings are either to pierce our weak spots like the Renar did, or sneak in large forces undetected. Stone walls would help more, but just stopping stealthy armies is great. How long for this?"
Jaol pointed between spots on the second and first maps.
"Distance here to here?"
"Half a half-day on foot, maybe."
"One beacon tower covers that stretch."
Jaol took charcoal and marked spots.
"Autong Valley has side paths too. Enemies might focus attacks on Autong if they spot beacons. Any other defenses?"
"Build walls as planned. But merchants need passage, so we can't just block paths. Fortify natural spots like valleys into hill forts."
"Beacons on those ridges too?"
"Yes."
Jaol counted marks on the map, adding forts for Autong Valley.
She imagined viewing the land at night through divine eyes.
Heukrin's borders would stand out starkly from the distant sky.
Shining not with stone walls, but a barrier of fire and smoke.
Rakrak's charcoal lines were threads of light.
But as Rakrak's mate, Jaol had to temper his overconfidence.
She spoke gravely.
"Beacons need just a few wagonloads of stone. Construction matters, but with warriors tending fires, rain or wind damage is fixable. Hill forts are the issue—maybe twice, three times longer than beacons. Autong's humans can scout sites, but quarrying and stacking stone takes time, even with abundant rock."
"Mm. With Autong, forts can lag. Beacons first. Overall timeline?"
Jaol replied calmly.
"About five years."
Three years later, Oradun.
Heukrin's royal palace: a stone platform piled high, topped with wide floors from North Coast timber.
In summer, open pillars kept it cool; in winter, sliding doors divided floors into rooms.
Originally plain wooden panels, but once Jaol showed paper could diffuse light, all became shoji screens.
Still, winter chill lingered.
Beneath the palace floors wound hidden channels—from hearths to chimneys.
Ondol flooring.
Fire heated stones in clay-lined paths, warming the palace through.
Tested in the palace, ondol spread by word after one winter. Even those with homes ripped floors to copy it. Beating the cold mattered to Lizardmen.
Rakrak sat alone in the vast throne hall.
Early winter dawn; shoji screens blocked no light, but none rose. Only torchlight from outside vassals filtered in, dim and murky.
Thankfully, ondol kept the vast space from growing frigid.
Time remained before ministers arrived, yet Rakrak's eyes had opened early.
"Hm."
He cleared his throat lightly, voice echoing in the hall.
Heukrin grew steadily, trouble-free.
North Coast Elves had settled; Autong's humans profited hugely; Southern Isles' Astacidian learned Lizardman mining, starting extraction.
But Rakrak worried.
He could found a nation, but perhaps lacked kingly qualities.
Maintaining a country is harder than building one.
He trusted himself to solve problems before him—and had, so far.
But vast Heukrin spawned issues everywhere.
Most too distant for his direct intervention.
Guarding borders is vital, but securing the interior matters as much...
That was the crux.
Uniting Lizardmen and expelling others worked for founding.
Clear friend-foe lines simplified everything.
But post-founding? No.
Other races fear Lizardmen—except humans.
He couldn't expel them all.
Many Heukrin residents were non-Lizardmen, hunting, gathering, farming—small-scale, but their taxes sustained Lizardmen.
Fear aids rule, but not only.
Many accepted Lizardmen overlords.
Others didn't.
Rejecting defeat, they tested Lizardmen again.
Heukrin met challenges, always victorious.
Rebellion signs drew skilled war-chiefs rallying warriors to crush multiples.
Rakrak believed divine favor ensured endless wins.
Problem: Culling异族 thus shrank national power.
Submission or fight. One or other.
Fear prevented integration.
As other nations grew populations, Heukrin's shrank—laughable.
Hm.
Rakrak pondered solutions.
Especially: If all worshipped Blue Insect God, rebellions would fade.
But faith couldn't be forced.
Hard to revere a god that terrorized them years ago.
To foster Blue Insect God faith, unify hearts first.
"Is sharing land not enough?"
A familiar voice answered Rakrak's murmur.
"No."
Rakrak looked up toward the voice.
A Lizardman.
"Sharing land doesn't mean sharing time."
Appearing without door creak—from behind a pillar.
One-armed, wrinkled scales dulled with age—hallmarks of Lizardman elders.
Oddly, blue light glowed from his silhouette.
Rakrak looked up, startled.
A known face.
"Star Reader!"