Amber's candid remarks were, as usual, unfiltered and often inappropriate. In past encounters, Gawain would have already brandished his sword, ready to reprimand her for her antics. However, this time, he chose not to engage in banter with her.
His mood was genuinely uplifted.
In fact, he was in such good spirits that he decided to discuss a more serious topic with Amber. "Do you know the value of that magical array?" he asked.
"What value?" Amber blinked, her confidence in her magical knowledge unwavering. She was aware of her limitations, admitting without hesitation, "I can't even understand how many types of magical runes are used on it, so I wouldn't know its value..."
Gawain was taken aback by her frankness, almost caught off guard by her honesty. Quickly regaining his composure, he said, "Let me rephrase my question—if magic became something that everyone could use or 'borrow,' how valuable do you think that technology would be?"
Amber was momentarily speechless. After half a minute, she replied incredulously, "Are you saying that this magical array could turn everyone into a mage? Have you been out in the sun too long and gotten dizzy?"
Gawain did not address the triviality in her comment but instead maintained his upbeat demeanor. "It certainly can't turn everyone into mages, but it might allow everyone to access the realm of the extraordinary. I suspect Hettie might not even fully grasp the significance of that array. It is not just a case of 'a mediocre spellcaster using basic runes to construct a large array.' Its greatest significance lies in its breakthrough—a breakthrough in 'universality, generality, and usability.' To allow his talentless daughter to receive magical energy, that wild mage designed a self-charging array capable of providing a constant and adjustable magical output to any magical energy-using unit. Prior to this, no grand mage had conceived of such a concept because they typically relied on their own hands to achieve that outcome."
Amber struggled to understand Gawain's line of reasoning. "Using one's own power to exert control over magic is far superior to what that wild mage has accomplished by relying on a massive array, right?"
Gawain looked deeply into Amber's eyes. "A mountain giant can easily crush a bear's skull with its palm, but a human needs a warhammer to accomplish the same feat. Which is more impressive, in your opinion?"
Amber paused, caught off guard. "Uh...?"
Ignoring her momentary confusion, Gawain stepped outside the tent.
The treasure left behind by the nameless wild mage included not only a magical array but also a wealth of research notes contained in the notebook. As a "weakling" severely limited in his spellcasting ability, he had to compensate for his shortcomings through calculations and advanced concepts. Gawain was deeply impressed when he first encountered those notes, even doubting that such insights could come from someone living in a repressive, primitive medieval society.
Automatic operation, compatible transfer interfaces, "user-friendly" external controls, geometrically-based rune arrangement laws, simplified formulas for runes...
Without the broad perspective gained from another world, most people in this realm would dismiss these "struggles of the inept" as irrelevant. After all, any mage reaching the intermediate level could bypass the steps recorded in the wild mage's notes using various advanced magical techniques. They had never considered the whimsical idea of enabling "those lacking magical talent or those of inferior rank to control magical energy."
The grand mages capable of wielding fire and thunder might be fearsome, but Gawain believed that until a humble wild mage separated magic from "personal talent" and liberated his own hands, this mysterious and powerful art had not yet reached its true potential—it had transformed from a fist into a cudgel.
Just as humanity first bound a stone to a stick, using that crude warhammer to slay beasts far stronger than themselves, this represented a leap forward.
Unfortunately, after countless centuries, humanity in this world was still crafting warhammers.
Gawain felt it was time to equip that warhammer with rocket boosters...
Setting aside Rebecca, who was earnestly studying the magical array's blueprint, on the third day of the arrival of sufficient manpower, the groundwork for the Cecil territory was officially laid.
Food was essential for survival. Regardless of the grand plans that Gawain envisioned in his mind, built upon a foundation of steam-powered steel and rocket-propelled hammers, he had to ensure that the people in his territory were well-fed first.
Sufficient provisions had already been procured during their time in Tanzan Town, and the king had promised food and cloth supplies for the territory's initial year. However, these were merely temporary solutions. To ensure long-term survival, self-sufficiency was imperative—while it was feasible to trade resources mined from the mountains with nearby lords for food, Gawain, as a pioneer from the Celestial Empire, suffered from the common anxiety that plagued many of his fellow countrymen: the anxiety of hunger.
Clearing land! Farming! Could he dare to sleep without cultivating at least ten acres upon arrival? Without establishing a couple of vegetable gardens behind the base, could he truly claim to have settled in? Since ancient times, the standard for establishing territories and securing long-term stability has always been the same: cultivate the land!
Of course, it was entirely reasonable to have this thought, but in this world of extraordinary powers, Gawain understood that there were many things he still needed to learn.
A simple principle emerged: knowing that humanity in this world could refine iron using straw as fuel due to the power of runes, who could guarantee that piling a mound of manure would surpass the local primitive techniques?
Moreover, without certainty regarding the fundamental rules of this world, Gawain could not ascertain how much of the knowledge he remembered from Earth would still be applicable here. What if microbial activity in this world did not adhere to basic biological principles...?
Regardless of these details, the fundamental idea of establishing roots by cultivating the land remained sound.
Gawain arrived at the clearing designated for cultivation, where everything was still in its early stages. Rebecca had taken the opportunity to visit the previous day, unleashing a barrage of fireballs on the overgrown land, effectively conducting a successful controlled burn. Today, the serfs were busy plowing the land, turning the nutrient-rich ashes from the burnt vegetation into the soil while removing the rocks scattered across the area.
Gawain was pleased to observe that the system he had put in place was being executed here as well. Along the vast expanse of land, wooden signs were planted every hundred paces, delineating the entire clearing into evenly sized plots, while the laborers worked within these boundaries. Additionally, several groups were preparing to excavate ditches between the plots. Adjacent to the clearing, a temporary wooden shelter had been erected where Hettie and a few others were stationed, responsible for tracking work progress and recording the tools taken and returned by each group of workers.
There was also a large cooking pot in the shelter, providing meals for the laborers nearby.
The workers had become accustomed to Gawain's presence—this "somewhat eccentric noble" frequently roamed the noisy construction site, engaging in conversations with the laborers. Initially, his interactions made many feel anxious and unsettled, but by now...
While tension still lingered, the sense of unease had diminished significantly, especially after Gawain fulfilled his promises of "all diligent workers will have enough food" and "those who work especially hard will have meat." Trust and camaraderie had blossomed between the commoners and serfs of the territory toward their new lord, who was both true to his word and renowned.
Gawain made his way through the busy worksite and arrived at the shelter. Hettie was conversing seriously with a tanned farmer, while Knight Philip stood guard nearby.
Gawain's nearly two-meter stature commanded presence. As he approached, Hettie looked up and rose, while the farmer turned around, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw Gawain. He hurriedly bowed. "Lord!"
"There's no need to be nervous," Gawain waved his hand. "I just came to see how things are going."
He then looked curiously at the man who appeared to be a farmer but was engaged in serious discussions with Hettie. "Are you an expert in agriculture?"
In the common language of Loren, the term "expert" was synonymous with "scholar." When the farmer heard Gawain refer to him in this manner, he became anxious and flustered. "I could never compare to those erudite individuals... I'm just a farmer..."
"His name is Norris," Hettie interjected, seeing the farmer's nervousness. "He is a skilled farmer in our territory. I wanted to ask someone knowledgeable about land cultivation, and I found him."
Gawain studied Norris carefully. He was a typical medieval peasant—dark-skinned, thin, with large hands and feet, and a humble expression. He appeared to be in his forties or perhaps even older, though Gawain couldn't be certain of his actual age; the heavy labor and malnutrition caused every commoner on Loren to age prematurely. While the peasants in the Cecil territory could at least maintain a semblance of sustenance, allowing them to live longer than those in other territories, the toll of labor-induced aging was still inevitable.
Even among the peasants in the Cecil territory, many laborers appeared aged, sometimes looking frail and haggard by their twenties. Norris, the farmer, nervously turned his neck under Gawain's scrutinizing gaze, offering a humble smile.
But this very smile struck Gawain unexpectedly.
How long had it been since he had seen a smile on the face of a poor person in this world?