The dwarves shrieked in unison.
"Lord! A month is far too short!"
"Come on, why the fuss? Aren't you dwarves, hailed as the best craftsmen, making weak excuses now? Didn't you promise to fulfill all my requests? It's troublesome if your words change like this."
"Ugh..."
The dwarves truly looked troubled.
Most humans make requests within what they consider reasonable standards. Confident in their abilities, the dwarves had assuredly promised they could meet those expectations.
Admittedly, they got a bit carried away and said some rash things. But they never expected their words to be taken literally.
'No, normally, if you ask nicely, the other side would modestly accept the terms, especially if they're noble, right?'
This was the first time they had encountered someone who accepted everything without compromise.
They were now facing the prospect of reducing their eating, sleeping, and resting time to get the work done.
'Damn, I shouldn't have been so cocky. I should've kept my mouth shut.'
The dwarves wore gloomy expressions. After all, they had made the promise, and judging by the lord's demeanor, refusal wasn't an option.
Even so, as they had never worked under such harsh conditions before, Galbarik decided to feign distress and test Ghislain.
"Lord, the workload is too much. If we try to finish it within a month, we'll all die from overwork."
"You'll die even if you don't do it."
"Pardon? Why? Are you planning to kill us?"
Legally, they were slaves, so even if they were killed for disobedience, they had no grounds to complain.
Ghislain shook his head and replied.
"We've been targeted by Desmond, the great lord of the North. War is imminent. If the work I assigned to you isn't completed within a month, we're all dead."
"..."
"Honestly, haven't you been living leisurely under nobles until now? That lazy mindset won't help you survive in the harsh North."
However, even the name of Count Desmond didn't faze the dwarves.
'Even if a war breaks out, we won't be in danger...'
Dwarves don't fear human wars.
Nobles wouldn't kill valuable and skilled dwarves. Instead, they'd likely take them as spoils of war unless the dwarves were directly fighting with weapons on the front lines.
But Ghislain wasn't ignorant of this.
"If the preparations aren't done within a month, you dwarves will be sent as a vanguard assault unit in the war."
'Wow, is this guy insane?'
The dwarves sighed in disbelief, glaring at Ghislain.
Their value was astronomical; no noble would dare send them to the battlefield. It had to be an empty threat.
Despite their skeptical looks, Ghislain simply grinned.
"You're new here, so you don't know much about me yet, do you? Today, I'll give you some free time. Once you learn more about what kind of person I am, you'll figure out what you need to do. I really prefer to handle things amicably, but no one ever believes me."
With that, Ghislain walked away.
The dwarves watched him leave, dumbfounded, before bursting into laughter.
'Did he really think such threats would work on us?'
The dwarves, having dealt with all sorts of nobles, were not intimidated at all.
"Well, since we're still unfamiliar with this place and the lord's territory, let's take a look around," suggested Galbarik.
The dwarves wandered around the estate, asking people about the lord.
The locals freely shared what they knew.
"Oh, the lord? Once he decides on something, he pushes forward relentlessly."
"He secretly gathered troops and entered the Forest of Demonic Beasts on his own. During the war, he went out on his own to crush the enemy. A few days ago, he even raided a forest from his father's territory."
"Right, right. And even when Count Digald and his vassals surrendered, he killed them all."
"You know Marquess Branford, right? He even risked his life betting against him."
The more they listened, the more the dwarves realized something was off.
Every story they heard was outlandish. No sane person would behave like that.
He was only receiving the people's praise because the outcomes were favorable. The process, however, was utterly nerve-wracking.
Finally, the dwarves were shocked when they saw the mages working on the construction site.
'What kind of mages... look so disheveled?'
Their scruffy appearances made it hard to tell if they were mages or manual laborers.
A man in a tattered robe, standing on one leg, scrutinized the dwarves from head to toe.
"A month to complete the project? That's plenty of time. Why did the lord give so much time?"
"…You call that plenty of time?"
"Why not? We created a hundred mana concentration circles in two days. And you can't finish this in a month? Eh, dwarves aren't much after all."
"What? That's ridiculous!"
"Why is it? We made hundreds of Rune Stones for the fields in just a week."
The man, Alpoi, spoke proudly, and the other mages nodded in agreement with satisfied smiles.
Galbarik cautiously asked, "Are you really mages?"
Alpoi straightened up and conjured a ball of fire in one hand.
"I am Alpoi, heir to the Scarlet Flame Magic Tower, known as the North's greatest magic tower. They call me the undying flame."
The dwarves stared intently at the fireball. They had never heard of such a title, but it seemed he was indeed a real mage.
Unable to suppress his curiosity, Galbarik asked, "Why is someone like the heir to a magic tower living like this?"
Alpoi suddenly slumped his shoulders and explained how he ended up bound to the Fenris estate.
He'd been forcibly brought here without knowing what task awaited him, and now he was a slave, unable to escape.
Hearing this, the dwarves were deeply shocked.
An heir to a magic tower and other mages unable to escape and forced to work tirelessly?
They finally had to accept the truth they had been denying.
'Ah, the lord is truly insane. That madness explains why he can achieve such absurd feats.'
Alpoi grabbed Galbarik's shoulder and said.
"They said you'd be working on the construction site too, right? Let's do our best together. One good thing about this place is the food. You can eat as much as you want."
He sounded like someone who had completely adapted to life in the estate.
The mages, weary from their heavy labor, were now content just to eat their fill.
Seeing the eerie fervor in the mages' eyes, the dwarves took a step back with uneasy expressions.
'We have to escape. If we stay here, we won't die a natural death. We have to escape no matter what.'
Seeing through their thoughts, Alpoi spoke seriously.
"Don't even think about running. You'll just get caught. The lord's specialties are pursuit, ambush, and annihilation. If a mage like me couldn't escape, do you think you can? So don't run away. Let's stay here together for a long, long time."
Every word Alpoi said was sincere. More hands meant a bit more breathing room for him.
He tried to reassure the dwarves.
"Sometimes, we gamble and drink together too. Living here isn't so bad. If you don't know how to gamble, I can teach you."
"…"
A brief, awkward silence followed.
After a long moment, Galbarik turned to the other dwarves and spoke with difficulty.
"…Let's get started quickly. We don't have much time."
If they didn't finish within a month, they might indeed be sent to the war's frontlines.
***
Ghislain was deep in thought, reviewing his plans.
'There's no point in only strengthening this place to fight the duchy.'
No matter how quickly Fenris grew, it was impossible to immediately match the overwhelming power of the duchy.
That's why he was pulling the Royalist faction into his fold.
The northern Perdium estate must also grow strong, just like Fenris.
Only then could they withstand the wars to come.
'I'll have to help them learn mana cultivation techniques too.'
Without delay, Ghislain loaded dozens of carts with food and set out for the northern fortress where his father resided.
The northern fortress, Kaipilar.
It was the northernmost frontline of the Lutania Kingdom, defended by Margrave Perdium.
Apart from a small water source near the fortress, the surrounding land was barren and desolate.
For centuries, the Perdium family had defended this forlorn fortress against barbarian invasions.
As a result, the Perdium estate had become endlessly impoverished.
Yet the heads of the family, understanding honor, had endured the losses to protect the fortress, which had become a symbol of their pride.
Count Zwalter Perdium, who guarded this place of honor, appeared visibly angry when he heard that Ghislain had arrived.
Accompanying him was the equally irate knight commander, Randolph.
As soon as Zwalter saw Ghislain, he shouted.
"Ghislain! I've already heard the news! I let things slide because of your accomplishments, but you've crossed the line this time! How dare you pillage the forest of the estate!"
Though Homerne had exaggerated the details in his report, it was true that Ghislain had taken the wood from the Perdium estate's forest.
Zwalter was determined not to forgive him this time.
No matter how capable Ghislain was, Zwalter could not tolerate any act that undermined his authority as lord and head of the family.
To lead and protect the North, his authority had to remain intact.
Zwalter's hand moved toward the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it.
Ghislain smiled slightly and said.
"I apologize for that. I urgently needed the timber. As compensation, I've brought some extra food."
The carts Ghislain had brought were loaded with an immense amount of food.
So much, in fact, that the fortress's entire garrison could eat heartily every day for years.
"I've also sent food to the estate. The residents should be able to get through the next year without worrying about food."
As Ghislain spoke with a relaxed smile, Zwalter's brow twitched.
"Do you think you can smooth this over with some food?"
…But it was far too much food to simply dismiss.
Still, Zwalter couldn't change his stance so easily. Showing such leniency in front of so many eyes would destroy his authority.
On the other hand, he couldn't refuse the food either. He was utterly sick of enduring hunger.
This was a crisis of a lifetime.
But Zwalter was no ordinary man. A veteran of countless battles against barbarians, he quickly devised a solution.
He gave a subtle signal to Randolph.
Having spent decades with Zwalter, Randolph immediately understood.
With a bright smile, Randolph grabbed Ghislain's hand.
"Oh, young lord! Why did you bring so much food? The weather is chilly here, isn't it? Let's get inside before you catch a cold. My lord, what are you doing? We don't even need timber, do we? Food is what matters most, isn't it?"
"Hmm, is that so? Should I let this one slide, then?"
"Of course! Even if we sold all the timber, we couldn't buy this much food. He must've offered a good price since he's your son."
"Ahem, alright then. I'll let it go this time. But be more careful from now on. Let's go inside."
With that, the two men strode into the fortress.
As Ghislain shrugged, the knights and soldiers stifled their laughter.
Unfortunately, having spent so much time together, their performance didn't fool anyone.
In the office, Zwalter got straight to the point.
"So, why are you here? I doubt you came just to apologize with food. Did you perhaps find a marriage prospect?"
He began nagging as soon as they were alone. Ghislain sighed and responded.
"…It's not that. I have something important to discuss."
Zwalter and Randolph involuntarily flinched. Whenever Ghislain mentioned "something important," it always led to major incidents.
Zwalter spoke seriously.
"Whatever it is, can't you keep it to yourself? I truly enjoy this peaceful time."
His voice was filled with sincerity.
For the first time in a long while, they could eat and live comfortably. He simply wanted to maintain this life.
He had endured too much hardship to desire more. People needed to know their limits.
Completely ignoring his father's heartfelt plea, Ghislain said.
"We need to change the family's mana cultivation techniques."
Zwalter's expression twisted into a grimace.
[T/L: Please support me and read 75 extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]