330 - Regressor of the Fallen Family

Chapter 330 The border between the two countries and the empire stretched for over 400 km, and there were countless paths leading from the empire to Mekline. However, when considering safe routes that a business caravan of substantial size could take, the number dwindled to a few dozen. If one sought routes where thousands or tens of thousands of troops could enter unharmed, the options were even more limited. In reality, there were precisely three routes. The ‘Merchants’ Road’ connecting the trading hubs of the kingdom and the empire, Kyle and Russfelheim. The ‘Hunters’ Path,’ which curves around the southern part of the northern beast forest, linking northern hunting towns. And the ‘Adventurers’ Trail,’ which bypasses the northern side of the southern mountains, connecting the southern cities. "Strictly speaking, since all these roads lead to profit, you could call them all the Merchants' Road," said Logan with a smirk, which left Damian tilting his head in curiosity. "Do you think all three routes could be potential invasion paths?" "Of course." “...The central highway alone can allow an advance of a hundred thousand troops across the plains. And yet, you worry about the trade routes too...” “The Imperial Army is larger than that.” In reality, during Logan’s previous life, when the Imperial Army first launched their invasion, the valiant efforts of the Swordmaster and the Esperanza territorial army managed to stall the massive Imperial forces, numbering over one hundred thousand, at the border for more than a week. This bought the Grendia royal family time to hastily gather their troops. However, by the time they engaged the Imperial Army on the central highway, the Imperial forces that had poured in through the northern and southern trade routes had already begun laying waste to the land. ‘Even if we had known beforehand, the royal army at the time couldn’t have stopped the Imperial forces.’ But now, things were different. Very different. "While nothing much can be done about the central highway, there are key locations to the north and south where building fortresses will make the war much more manageable." "Though they’re called roads, they’re essentially thoroughfares with intersecting paths. Is it truly feasible to block them with fortresses...?" "It’s possible." "…How can you be so certain?" "Because…" In a past life, you said it exactly like that. – If we had only done that, the kingdom wouldn’t have fallen so easily. Logan suppressed the urge to smile bitterly at the thought and continued with a confident grin. "As you mentioned, unlike the central highway, the Hunters’ and Adventurers’ paths have numerous intertwined trails. But there are intersections where all these paths converge, both in the Empire’s territory and ours." "Oh… How do you know so much about it? You couldn’t have seen it yourself." "I heard about it." "Pardon?" From you. "So, I don’t remember the exact locations. Survey the geography, and find just one spot each in the north and south suitable for building a fortress. We will construct fortresses there and station some of the 2nd and 3rd corps there permanently." Even as Damian couldn’t hide his astonishment, Logan smiled warmly. "We’ll, of course, install a grand magical barrier, too." To Logan, who spoke with certain confidence, the bewilderment felt by Damian made sense, as he was proposing a national policy with unknown costs based on hearsay. Yet, judging by the serious look in Logan’s eyes, Damian's chest tightened with apprehension. ‘True, this man has always achieved results, despite how preposterous it seemed.’ Damian sighed in resignation and abandoned any rebuttal. "…In a few months, the farming season will begin anew. We must quickly decide on locations and mobilize workers. We can complete the basic construction in two to three months and continue after the harvest season." "In two to three months, we can finish the whole thing." "Excuse me?" "We have the best experts in the world, don’t we?" "Oh…." Faced with Logan’s confident demeanor, Damian wore an awkward smile and silently prayed for the souls of their colleagues, doomed to endure grueling work. * * * Roll this way. “This is strange...” Roll that way. “What’s happening?” After tumbling around on his bed for a while, Hamar finally wobbled to his feet and stretched his short arms with a big yawn. "Ahhh." Blinking his eyes and scratching his belly, now seemingly more pronounced recently, he noticed a warm, untouched loaf of bread and tea set on the table. Beside the door, a basin filled with water awaited. "Nothing seems wrong...” If anything, everything was going splendidly. A decade back, he was nothing but a returned dwarven slave, his master craftsmanship being dismissed. This lavish lifestyle was unimaginable then. Now, he was the owner of Taren’s magical workshop, with no one to intervene. He was one of the key figures responsible for Mekline’s industrial prowess and a trusted confidant of the king. Even the constant presence of a guard knight for his safety felt reassuring after getting used to it. But– Then why... “Why do I feel so bored?” Was the workshop running too smoothly to be interesting? ‘I can’t intentionally break the line, after all.’ As these thoughts flitted through his mind, Hamar munched on his bread contemplatively. “Maybe I should make something… Gah!” Startled by his own muttered suggestion, he quickly covered his mouth and glanced around. A voice seemed to echo in his mind. – Isn’t crafting something a romantic idea for your kind? Remembering the voice of the demon he hadn’t seen for months, Hamar shook his head fervently. "No, no. That man brainwashed me. Otherwise! How great is it not to have to work!" Feebly affirming his resolve even as he shook his fist, Hamar couldn’t deny that after nearly half a year of not crafting, his fingers were itching. “Maybe I should carve something.” And at that thought, inevitably his old flame came to mind. The village hidden deep within the mountains where the dwarves lived, escaping the humans. Among them, a lady who filled his heart with happiness, the owner of particularly beautiful eyes. “Noir...” Thinking of her also brought back that memory of trying to recreate those eyes and getting caught by his master, leading to dire consequences. "Ahh... Just thinking about that time…" It seemed he'd consciously tried to forget about it for some time. "I neglected you, Noir. Forgive me." Suddenly reminded of those memories, the urge to once again pick up his hammer and chisel burned brightly within him. Though he didn’t want to admit that crafting was a romantic notion for his kind, as a Dwarf through and through, he found no greater joy. "Alright. Sculpting is purely a hobby." Rationalizing it to himself, he prepared to leave the room when— "Hamar, Sir!!" Bang. "Ugh!" Suddenly, the door swung open and smacked him hard in the nose, causing Hamar to tumble backward. "Oh? Haha... Why are you standing there...?" The one-armed dwarf, Tamer, who had swung the door open, wore an awkward smile. "Ow, ow. What? Why are you acting as if it's my fault for being in my own room, you rascal!" As Hamar, nose bleeding and eyes aflame, approached menacingly, Tamer stumbled backward in fear. "Wh-Why are you doing this!" "I've been waiting for a chance, you little brat. Today, you're finished." “N-No, now’s not the time for this!” "Yes, it is." "The king has issued an order!" Tamer's desperate declaration, through the grip on his collar, momentarily halted Hamar. "…What?" His face naturally hardened, and an ominous feeling made his lips tremble. "Th-The order is to build two fortresses within three months!" And, as expected, his premonition was spot on. "…What? Build two of what in three months?" "Fortresses." "A fortress? As in the kind that looks like a castle?" "…I believe that's correct." "What kind of nonsense is this?!" "I thought it was ridiculous too, so I came to tell you right away! The official document mentioned that, based on the construction of Fort Aegis, it should be entirely possible." "…Aegis? Ah, that earthen fort? The one we built with that mage fellow through sheer toil?" “Yes.” “They want us to do that again?” Despite his incredulous expression, Tamer only delivered more dismal news. "This time, it needs to be built with stone so that it can be used permanently. Two of them, in fact." It was only then that Hamar recognized that Tamer’s face bore an equally desolate expression. Thud. "Oh… Damn this cursed mouth. Why did I have to say I was bored..." Hamar stopped his outburst and folded down to his knees, slapping his own cheeks repeatedly. "Noir, even at that time, and now did you curse me somehow!? Even though you left!" He then shouted into the void, pounding on his chest. Despite appearing completely unhinged, Tamer couldn’t help but somewhat empathize, letting out a drawn sigh. ‘An escape from reality, I see. Understood, Workshop Chief.’ But he still had to say what needed to be said. “Uh, Chief. If we’re to stay on schedule, we need to depart today…” Trying to carefully voice the thought. "Ahhh!" Seeing Hamar scream like a madman jolted Tamer backward. ‘…Has he truly gone insane?’ “...Why can’t I just be happy.” Fortunately, Hamar didn’t seem genuinely mad, as tears—tokens of confronting reality—ran down his cheeks where he knelt. * * * “…So, instead of installing a spell circle on an existing castle, you’re saying we must build new fortresses and then install the spell circles on them? And two places at that?” Clayton’s scarred face twisted strangely, prompting Grik to cautiously step back. This benevolent master, often misunderstood because of appearances at odds with his heart, occasionally startled even those who knew him well. – That's why he tried to maintain composure without being swayed by others’ reactions. It also apparently helped his magic tremendously. This was what his master always said, but today’s news was enough to shake even that steadfast tranquility. “Yes.” “Within three months?” “…Yes.” “Haha. His Majesty must believe we’re some sort of superhumans.” Indeed, Master, you are quite the superhuman. As is Victoria. Grik swallowed down his own grating truth with a gulp. “It seems His Majesty is expecting much due to thoughts of Fort Aegis, but perhaps it would be best to offer a suggestion about the timeline?” “…It’s uncertain.” “Pardon?” “Because it might not be entirely impossible.” “...What?” For a moment, Grik wondered if his master had had an off morning. “This is not like Aegis. We have to construct a stone fortress for long-term use, one big enough to house a massive spell circle in the basement.” “True. Yet, I feel it’s doable, provided the fortress design is perfect.” Really? Whether or not he discerned his apprentice’s baffled thoughts, Clayton continued with a wry smile. "So, what did Hamar say? Is he going to do it?" “That fellow always complains and whines about not doing it, but he ends up doing it anyway. Honestly, I suspect he enjoys it.” “Indeed, he just might.” Grik couldn’t help but cock his head, observing his master still engulfed in worry despite the chuckle. “But can’t we be honest about our inability to do it?” “Hm?” “There's no reason for us to force ourselves, is there? Aside from His Majesty’s command, Viscount Damian, the project’s proposer, said it was acceptable to delay completion until after the harvest if it interfered with the farming season.” “…Really?” “Yes, and given your position, making a recommendation to adjust the schedule given the demanding timeline seems entirely plausible.” Grik genuinely believed it. His master had been fully absorbed in his research on spell circles, working tirelessly day and night. The effort hadn’t spared Grik or the other apprentices from hard labor either. Yet, his master seemed to think differently. “No, I can't do that.” “Master, you’ve already accomplished plenty. You don’t need to push yourself further…” "Pushing oneself isn't the issue. Grik, remember what I told you? A mage must be cautious with their words." "Pardon? Oh, yes. You did mention that." Grik recalled the lesson his master had often imparted since the time they achieved mass production of artifacts a few years back. – Distance yourself from falsehoods and build on truths. – That will ultimately be the stepping stone to surpassing the wall of the extraordinary. Truthfully, Grik still hadn’t grasped how this applied to the art of magic. "You can deceive others, but you cannot deceive yourself. I truly believe it’s feasible. So, I can't say it's impossible." Despite the weariness on his master’s face, those words profoundly etched themselves onto Grik’s heart.