Chapter 78
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: Yeah, Let's Work Hard
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I had no intention of holing up in this sturdy, spacious castle and playing lord of the manor.
No matter how fortified it was, this fortress wouldn't be impregnable to enemies gunning for me.
Thud-.
With that thought settled, I lightly smacked the table.
"We'll go with that on the previous matter. Now, spit out whatever comes to mind right away. Immediate problems we're facing, future plans—anything. Just blurt it out as it hits you."
Walter raised his hand.
He was the fastest on foot and skilled at hunting.
From yesterday's events, I could judge he had a strong sense of selflessness, too.
On top of that, he was smart with quick wits.
"We have no food. Assign me some people, and I'll hunt and bring some back."
"Send birds along, and it'll help even more. We can't go hungry, right?"
It was the most pressing issue, so I nodded without thinking.
"You mean use them as guides."
"Exactly, boss. From my experience, flying foxes are easy to track. Their wings make them visible, and they fly low."
Flying foxes? Oh, right—they called one variety of fruit bats that because their faces resembled foxes.
"You've even thought out the specifics. Good."
I gave my ready approval, and Steron started to raise his hand.
I held up a hand to stop him for now.
"Everyone, take a page from Walter's book. He baited himself to save the others. Chased by those terrifying ogres, no less. He was the last back to the fortress yesterday, exhausted, yet here he is volunteering for more hardship to solve our food shortage."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
No one piped up to argue—perfect.
I turned to Steron, who looked displeased.
"Steron. Speak."
"The birds—"
"Skip the part about not using Hellite's birds for personal use."
"—we don't have any."
Steron sat back down.
The punk, acting like some rigid bureaucrat.
As I grumbled inwardly,
over in the far corner sat Syr...
Ah, right—now I remembered.
'Sirgraph.'
Sirgraph was gesturing to Erakins.
He mimed kneading something with both hands, moving them left to right, then right to left.
Once Sirgraph finished his sign language, Erakins nodded vigorously and raised his hand.
I had a hunch what it meant but didn't assume—better to give him the floor.
People suppressed for so long only open up freely once they can speak and act without restraint. If not, whatever.
"Sirgraph says we need water."
"Come to think of it, most of the waterskins are empty."
Vice officer Kruk chimed in.
"Water. Right. Water's crucial. It's a survival essential."
Couldn't call the fire department here—what to do in a pinch like this?
I glanced at Ibu, but he was dozing with his chin propped on an upside-down axe.
Yeah, better he keep his mouth shut.
"I can handle the immediate water needs by conjuring it myself. But even I can't produce unlimited amounts."
Mentioning my limits drew a line so they wouldn't rely on me entirely, but...
'There really is a limit. Still...'
Hmm-.
A solid idea popped up.
I could flood the place with water to boost my Toolsep assimilation rate.
'Might work? If I keep teetering right up to my limit.'
That way, I'd break free from Toolsep's threat sooner, and Silver Star could awaken early.
I could even start serious mana cultivation.
Whoa, turns out I'm a goddamn genius.
So, I'd squeeze out water on the sly...
"Long-term, we'll need to dig a well or connect a stream."
"Wise words."
"Erakins is the expert on that—have him draw up plans. If you need manpower, tell Kruk for support."
"Got it."
The thieves buzzed with excitement.
Only two of them, but the silence they'd maintained out of fear of the dreaded Holy Knights was finally breaking.
"We won't last days without water."
"Good thing the boss is the Holy Knight of Water."
I didn't miss Steron's furrowed brow.
Loginin's thick neck visibly drooped.
That fake captain must've bluffed a ton—look at those faces.
'Probably the 'Holy Knight of Water' bit.'
It was a power gained from the Ruler of Frost's curse, but not wrong.
Draw water, you're the Holy Knight of Water; wield fire, Holy Knight of Fire, right?
'I literally emerged from water as a Holy Knight. They don't seem thrilled about it, though.'
I gave the Holy Knights a nose wrinkle—meaning "talk later." Not a wink.
"What about you Holy Knights?"
Deep down, I hoped they'd head back. Not just because they were perceptive.
I figured the thieves could loosen up more without them around.
Requiya, Fred, and Yuderg had trekked hellish roads together, so camaraderie formed. But not the Holy Knights.
To us, they were just unwanted guests.
Steron nodded at Loginin.
Loginin nodded right back at Steron.
They'd clearly conferred and were passing the buck.
'Those two heading back to Hellite would be best for the thieves, too.'
They probably sensed my intent and were shoving the persuasion onto each other.
I knew they were sharp Holy Knight captains.
Loginin, scratching his cheek with a thick index finger, finally mustered courage.
"We've already received word from El Ravina. She hopes we'll assist actively if needed..."
"Assistance, huh... But aren't these Divine Gatekeepers away from their posts too long?"
The sanctuary was super important.
Gatekeepers guarded super important places.
Right?
Anyone saying otherwise is a heretic.
Heretics get death.
"Out of over a hundred gatekeepers, just two of us."
Hmm, nearly became a heretic myself.
Ugh—check Hellite's scale, though.
That many gatekeepers.
Wait.
Isn't that just shift rotation guards?
They puff it up externally as "gatekeepers."
You know, like calling regular clerks or junior staff in big corps or government procurement "deputy managers" or "team leads."
In my old world, those jerks abused contractors left and right. Real assholes.
Steron and Loginin averted their eyes, reading my gaze.
'Bingo. Important post, so they all get called gatekeepers.'
These puffed-up rank frauds.
Trying to fool me?
Did these punks pull the same power trips as gatekeepers?
Suddenly pissed...
Should I hang 'em upside down and beat 'em?
'Nah. Use 'em instead.'
My inner resentment toward Steron and Loginin plummeted.
Like floodwaters vanishing in an instant.
"Fine. We'll take the help. However."
They straightened up at my caveat.
"It's not help. You'll follow my orders. Understand the difference clearly. If not, return to Hellite."
"No objections."
Before Steron could reply, Loginin bowed his head.
"Advise the other thieves—no, vagrants, no... free folk—when they need it, but otherwise, no intimidation or meddling. These people aren't Hellite's, Brad's, Fiore's, or Drawn's underlings. They're the citizens of this holy land right here."
"We'll keep that in mind."
Steron agreed with a solemn, resolute expression.
"Good. I'm hungry, so that's it for today. I'll go hunting with Walter."
"Boss, do you know how to hunt?"
Kruk asked.
"No clue. But with ogres possibly showing up again, won't they focus better on the hunt with me there?"
"Ahh, yeah, makes sense. As expected of the boss."
I looked at Yuderg, who'd been quiet throughout.
"Yuderg and Eratkal, pick some men and butcher the ogre. Finish by tonight. Fail, and you're heretics. Heretics starve."
"We'll complete it without fail."
Yuderg bowed deeply.
Damn, getting a greeting from a handsome guy feels great.
Next, I locked eyes with Edinson.
"You know what to do, right?"
"Huh? Me? I'm too dumb to know."
Ugh, frustrating.
"Plow the fields. Won't have tons of manpower, but it's daily work—grab the tools and start. Sketch the layout first. You know it best."
"Aha, leave that to me."
"Loginin, guard the farmers. No big threats. Anyone attacking farmers—monster or human—is a heretic. Kill heretics. Once safe, pitch in yourself."
"Y-yes, under your command."
"Why the stutter?"
"You said kill them..."
Ah, right—these guys have no-kill orders.
"Kill. Under me, no-kill orders are forbidden."
Ah, wording's off.
"Know self-defense? I mean, correct it to legitimate defense purposes—. Hm. Got it?"
Steron and Loginin tilted their heads.
No concept of "self-defense" here, huh.
I'll gloss over it since I barely knew it back then.
"I won't hold you accountable for such killings. Got it?"
"Y-yes..."
"Got it?!"
"Yes!"
"Yeah, let's work hard."
That's right.
Now I turned to Fred and Requiya.
"Fred and Requiya, stay at the fortress and tend to household affairs. Chat up any visitors nicely. No matter how I think about it, you two are best for handling guests."
"We'll handle chores, but—"
"What's an inbound guest?"
Requiya and Fred voiced their confusion in unison.
"Vast lands or not, the world's full of no secrets. After yesterday's ruckus, word's probably spread that the ogre's gone. Our new bird messengers fanned those flames. We didn't name the spot, but sharp folks tuned to the grapevine would've pinned the location from 'ogre.' There might be others getting intel from birds like us."
At that point, I recalled being chased by Fiore's Royal Guard.
Before storming the bandit lair.
Other birds had vanished, but a few bats circled the sky.
'Weird.'
I'll ask the head bird later.
"Anyway, point is, plenty of visitors are coming."
Thank god no SNS here.
If thumbs-up fanatics existed, it'd be all over the ocean to other continents by now.
"Tricky."
Fred scratched his sideburns, hand on chin.
Clap!
I clapped to grab attention.
"Shit!"
Dozing Ibu jolted up, axe raised high.
Seems every world has guys zoning out in meetings and overreacting.
I ignored him and launched into my prepared spiel.
"Listen up, Fred. This place used to be a decent-sized village long ago. Had farms, a tavern, inn, and all."
"Right. Lights burned till dawn."
Fred nodded.
He knew a bit of history—made explaining easier.