Secondary Territory Development Plan (1)
“A city deep in the Forbidden Zone? Is the lord speaking with a sound mind right now?”
“We're building it in the deepest part and using it as a base for monster subjugation. Actually, no—I'm planning to turn monsters into an entire industry.”
“Huh? An industry?”
“Yeah. Blaine Barony's gonna become the empire's top producer of monster byproducts. Once mercenaries flood in, all the industries they need will boom.”
“Like what?”
“Inns, magic shops, blacksmiths, taverns, and a bunch of other travel-related businesses. Merchants will swarm in too. It'll spark massive growth around that hub.”
“Huh. When you put it like that, it kinda makes sense?”
Celt stuck out his tongue in awe at the economic insight that leaped across eras. If he hadn't envisioned a blueprint this grand, he never would've started in the first place.
Build-up wasn't just about expanding territory—it was about elevating civilization itself to a whole new level. That meant urban planning, population strategies, funding plans, military setups, commercial development, agriculture... everything.
A city for mercenaries would spawn support cities, then transportation networks linking the main keep to satellite towns. Rails would connect them, locomotives would run the lines, and by then, airships might even be feasible.
Once they swallowed the eastern empire and hit a population of three million, he'd squeeze the empire harder for independence.
Celt seemed to read his mind.
“Just what's the lord's endgame? World conquest?”
“Oh! Thought you were dumb, but you're sharp.”
“My lord! What on earth are you saying? World conquest? You can't be serious!”
Kane, who'd been listening quietly, jumped in shock. He'd assumed it was just about territory growth, not some grander scheme.
Auron shrugged.
“It's the gods' will.”
“What gods would give such a revelation?!”
“Didn't you hear Vulcanus?”
He could feel the gods watching. Right—he was outwardly their fervent believer. With his status as a religious leader in the Vivian Church, it was time to lean into that image harder. Made picking fights with neighboring lords easier.
To him, the gods were the ultimate cheat code.
“That scheming bastard Odin's throwing a tantrum to become the one true god, so the gods put me forward as their great warrior. Smash his crew—that's the goal. World conquest? Just a stepping stone.”
“……”
Even to him, it sounded ridiculously epic. Once it all panned out, he'd laze around like a king.
“Anyway, enough on the mercenary city. Let's talk barrier construction.”
“B-barrier construction?”
Celt was breaking into a cold sweat. The scale kept ballooning; he couldn't keep up.
Of course, dwarves wouldn't care if he conquered the world. The issue? They'd drown in work. Insanely so.
Slash.
Auron drew a line beyond the Forbidden Zone—big enough for a whole duchy. A national border-scale mega-barrier. That was the territory's foundation.
Celt shot to his feet, voice booming.
“Lord! You think that's feasible?!”
“Why not?”
“Building a barrier that size would take astronomical cash and manpower! And you're doing it now? From a starting point where even nationhood's iffy?”
“That's exactly why. For our growth. Plus, mercenaries will eventually cross it anyway—keeps the inside safe.”
“Lord, that's got zero chance of working.”
“Why? You've got all-purpose engineer dwarves.”
“We're not all-purpose!”
Celt massaged his temples. Just thinking about it hurt.
But the shocks weren't over.
“And we'll lay rails across our territory—including the eastern empire—once it's ours. For regular locomotive runs.”
“No! We don't have the money or manpower!”
“Finally.”
“Huh? More?”
The dwarves looked defeated, like he was spouting fantasies.
He wasn't fantasizing. He spoke as if it were inevitable.
“The territory—soon to be a kingdom—gets a grand canal slicing east-west.”
“You're insane! A grand canal?!”
“Why? Can't do it?”
“You're really gonna make me curse you out?!”
“Go ahead if you wanna get smacked.”
Thud!
Celt collapsed to the floor.
Truth was, those plans needed hundreds of thousands of workers—and that was just baseline manpower. Auron knew.
But blend science, magic, and spirit arts right, and it'd wrap in years. Faster than on Earth, even.
Celt pleaded earnestly, desperate to sway him.
“Look, lord, our clan swore loyalty to your house—before the gods. Under Vulcanus's blessing, I was game to humor you. But this? Dig canals, build mega-walls, spam cities? We'd work lifetimes and still fall short!”
“If you build like idiots, sure.”
“Then spill it! If you've got a real method, we'll make history somehow!”
“First: mass-hiring spiritists and mages. Way better than raw labor.”
“Still short.”
“And we'll roll out gear like this.”
Whoosh!
Auron unrolled Earth-style heavy machinery blueprints: cranes, excavators, bulldozers—all modern construction rigs. Reinforcing with rebar and formwork? Beyond this era's grasp.
His mind felt sharper somehow. Old memories surfaced, organized into perfect schematics.
Genius mode activated?
“Huh! You can build these?”
“Mana engines make it doable. Didn't you see?”
“Right... mana engines.”
The dwarves bought it, grasping his “latest” building tech too.
“Even if your 'assumptions' pan out, pulling off mega-projects in years? Impossible.”
“We'll mobilize 300k+ workers yearly.”
“I-insane! Who foots that bill?!”
“I'll dig up the land or whatever—feasible then?”
“Still a stretch...”
“Fine! Generosity time: I'll summon the Spirit King!”
“……!”
They gawked, dumbfounded. Spirit King wasn't some pet dog you “generously” whistled for.
Whoosh.
A warm breeze blew. Early summer nights were heating up.
Dwarves, forged in furnaces, barely noticed.
Their focus? The lord's arrogance.
Dwarf elder Kunta railed against it.
“That mad human says he'll summon the Spirit King—like that's sane?!”
“Ugh! Hell if I know anymore!”
“Chief, you think it's possible?”
“Look at the sky.”
“……”
A massive firebird illuminated the barony in noble poise. The phoenix hovered, dimmed to not disturb sleepers.
He remembered their freakout at first sight.
Top-tier fire spirit. Grand Master level, high-circle magic. Monster of a lord, but mastering two fields? Rare.
Continent-wide common knowledge: only the mago-empire's founding emperor hit Grand Master post-that.
Yet here was a versatile prodigy. Annoying personality aside, talent like no other. Why Celt didn't bet against him.
“Lord doesn't spout empty boasts. Crazy or just a jerk? Dunno. But he doesn't lie.”
“If the Spirit King shows?”
“Earth's Spirit King Oread simplifies everything. Summon her, command all lesser earth spirits. Dragons prove it.”
“Ah!”
They'd suffered under a dragon generations back. Savage Kainus slave-drove the clan for a massive lair—records survived. Summoned Oread, bossed every subordinate spirit.
If the lord pulled it off, mega-projects weren't years away—they were now.
“Here comes the lord.”
Auron Blaine sauntered in like a thug. Trailed by the new 2nd Knight Division, grumpy Sharel, eager Kane, and dazed Aria (eyes glued to the lord, half-gone). Locals and soldiers followed, curious about the spectacle.
The lord's antics always drew crowds.
He stopped, yawned.
“Perfect weather for a Spirit King summon.”
“Ugh, that arrogance.”
“If he pulls it off, it's not arrogance.”
“Why the sudden vote of confidence?”
“He's a scumbag, but the skills? Top-tier.”
Celt was coming around. Soon, he'd see why the gods picked him.
Shooo!
Auron straightened, drew a hexagram on the ground. Stood in it, formed hand seals. Earth energy gathered, spread.
“This is...”
“Spirit power.”
Golden aura wrapped him, expanded, converged.
Eyes open, he bellowed.
“By ancient pact, I summon thee. Earth spirits, heed the Creator God's will!”
Rumble!
Golden light shaped into a colossal golem. Ten meters of gleaming giant.
All gaped.
Celt recited myths and records.
“Spirit King Oread… The lord actually summoned her.”