The following morning, Sarjay saw me standing at the entrance of Blackrock, a nearby town that was something like a second home to me.
Blackrock was a fairly sizable town, even when accounting for it being the seat of a Barony. There were multiple reasons for this, but they all stemmed from the same root: the area was very poor in ambient magic.
Aside from the conduits we mages used to draw mana from Unreality, as well as the mana well, there was one more way for mana to manifest on our side of reality — namely, the porous nature of reality itself, which allowed for minute amounts of mana to arrive freely from Unreality.
The permeability of any particular section of the world was highly variable, and the reason for these differences was a hotly debated topic. The only consensus was that there would be no consensus on this particular issue.
In any case, what Blackrock's low mana density meant for society was that it made the town exceedingly safe. The frequency of supernatural manifestations spontaneously appearing — usually, animals being turned into monsters, magical plagues, and spatial shenanigans — scaled linearly with mana density. The area surrounding Ravenrock, which is essentially a mana desert, meant that there would never be any magical beast hordes sieging the town or infinite dungeons appearing under some tomb.
The safety of the area made it prime real estate for retired adventurers and lesser nobles, as both groups wanted nothing more than to kick back and relax in relative peace. The coin they brought with them triggered a positive feedback loop for Blackrock's economy, attracting more and more people until the other shoe finally fell.
Since mana represented potential, a scarcity of mana stifled growth. This was largely irrelevant for humans since our own porosity was distinct from the area in which we resided, but it turned out that mana density was, in fact, quite important for crops. If it had not been for the crop production bottleneck, Blackrock would likely have grown to become one of the most important cities on the continent. As it was, the town had plateaued at a modest eight thousand inhabitants, the highest it could sustain given the poor harvests.
Or at least, it had been that way until one dashing Archmage devised a grand alchemical formula that increased the yield of crops in a specific area by cleverly imbuing vegetal matter — and vegetal matter only, this time — with diminutive strands of mana. I only regretted wasting so much time investigating the possibility of an alchemical solution — but alas, that was the plight of a researcher. Most roads lead to a dead end.
The only thing setting the town back from becoming a proper metropolis now was the fact that it resided nary a league from my own tower, which was something of a deal-breaker for prospective residents, not to mention the fact that the entire peninsula —- the former Barony — was now technically my domain, nevermind that I had never asked for it. After the Baron committed suicide by me, his only son and heir had taken his remaining men. They fled with his tail between his legs, which was a shame because the responsibility of managing the whole place now fell on me, ostensibly by right of conquest.
I wasn't sure, but I was likely the only accidental conqueror in the continent's history.
In any case, the spell had brought me a fair amount of goodwill from the townsfolk, enough that no more than a handful of families decided to flee the town in hopes of avoiding the ever-devouring hunger of the Dark Lord.
Without the influx of new residents, the farmers were generating a surplus of grain, which quickly turned Blackrock into a major exporter, further boosting the town's economy.
I had shared all this knowledge with Sarjay on our way here but had he still been alive, I'm sure he would have been sleepwalking a third way in. It appeared history and economics were not among the Hero's interests. He did perk up when I mentioned the retired heroes, which made me smile secretly. I would have a surprise for him later that day.
The gate to Blackrock was guarded by a pair of wights, lesser undead who were just intelligent enough to follow orders but not enough for independent problem-solving. This was expected since animals supplied their souls, and their minds were closer to a mathematical algorithm than an organic mind. The guards were mostly there to deter criminals more than anything, and they made no move to stop us as we entered the town.
"This is much better smelling than that other town I visited," his eyes wandered as he took in the sights. "Much cleaner looking, too."
"Blackrock was planned rather than naturally grown, compared to most places. It had sewers built from the start."
"Oh," he replied noncommittally.
As we walked through the alleys, the other pedestrians gave us a wide berth. Some glared at us with obvious hostility; I assumed the more religious ones, but I was surprised to receive more than a few respectful nods. Most just glanced with interest. It made me happy that my reputation here hadn't been completely dragged through the gutter. Of course, it hadn't been entirely by chance that public opinion remained largely neutral towards me. I had had a hand in it — a very light touch of Soul magic upon the populace, just enough to tip the scales ever so slightly in my favor.
It wasn't long before we made it to our destination.
Master Kallo's smithy was one of the longest-standing businesses in Blackrock. He had served as the armorer for the Adventurers' Guild up in Synara, and when Guild Master Aisin announced his retirement, his younger brother decided to follow him and start his own shop.
As we entered, we were greeted by a young, spindly apprentice manning the counter. Rolf, if I remembered his name right.
"Lord Achilles ! It's good to see the Crusaders didn't get you," he smiled. "Do you need more instruments crafted? Should I get Master Kallo for you?"
"Hello, Rolf. I'm here for something different this time, actually," I said as I returned his greeting with a nod. I gestured to Sarjay. "I'd like to commission a set of plate mail for him"
Sarjay waved at the boy, who only just seemed to notice her beside me.
"I'll inform Master," he replied as he scampered towards the forge in the back.
Sarjay perused the swords on display while we waited for Kallo to arrive. He methodically looked over each one, but never took any for a test.
"I understand that you're supposed to feel out a weapon to see if it's suitable. And, what was that… test its balance?"
He grimaced. "I wouldn't know what to look for, really. I've only been in this world for, what, a little over a week? Before that, I'd only seen swords in a museum."
That took me by surprise. "Only a week? And somebody saw fit to send you on a crusade?" I was fairly certain he had been sent to die, but I didn't want to be the one to say it. Betrayals like that you needed to discover for yourself.
"The Duke must have been too taken with the legends surrounding Heroes. He probably thought I'd be a one-man army from the get-go," he said hesitantly, as if testing out the words.
"Is it me you're trying to convince of that?" I murmured.
He stood in quiet contemplation after that. A couple of minutes later, the blacksmith made his entrance.