After several more tests, Gawain concluded that further verification was unnecessary. Rebecca couldn't establish a connection with the crystal, and Amber's attempt yielded the same result. It seemed that no one else could use the crystal to link to the mysterious surveillance station in the sky. So why had Gawain Cecil left this crystal behind seven hundred years ago?
Gawain could only think of two explanations: either the original Gawain Cecil had a unique method to utilize these crystals, or… the crystals weren't meant for him, but rather for his successor seven centuries later. The latter possibility was especially unsettling.
"Ancestor…" Rebecca looked anxiously at him, sensing that she had failed in whatever test he'd set up, though she didn't understand its purpose. She worried that she had once again disappointed him. "Is it because I lack the talent?"
"No, it's not you," Gawain reassured her, suppressing his own troubled thoughts. "Amber tried too, and it didn't work for her either. This crystal isn't meant for ordinary people. I just had a whim to test it with you." Changing the subject, he added, "So, tell me about your survey results."
At the mention of her findings, Rebecca brightened. "Right! I was just about to say, Ancestor, did you already know the land here had been purified? I followed the area you marked on the map, and it's free of contamination. The land is open and flat, with accessible water sources. The farmers said it's perfect for cultivation…"
Gawain wasn't surprised; he had indeed known this. At least a decade ago, the area had been free of contamination, though no one in the kingdom was aware. How long ago the magical contamination in the Dark Mountains had receded remained unclear, but records left by the once-thriving Cecil family confirmed that a hundred years ago, the area had still been polluted. That was why the mountain treasure vault had survived: the contamination prevented others from exploring the region.
Only a decade ago, the overhead view in Gawain's mind had shown the area as free from contamination. Based on Ansurian law, it was the responsibility of the southern border nobility, including the Leslie family in Tanzan Town, to monitor the Gandor contamination zone. Gawain suspected that Viscount Andrew might have some inkling of the reduction in magical contamination, but, sustained by the wealth of nearby mines, he likely found the land's temporary stability unworthy of further investment.
Gawain nodded and told Rebecca, "For now, we'll focus on the land I marked. The pollution further out has probably receded too, but we'll explore that only when the main force arrives. Don't venture out there yet."
The view in his mind had shown a clear image of the area a decade ago, and while the contaminated zone had likely continued to shrink since then, the current view was now limited to a "magical energy image" that couldn't be adjusted, making it impossible to confirm.
As time passed, the new labor system, which Heidi had worked tirelessly to implement, began to show results. Workers were realizing that labor brought better rations, while those who tried to exploit the system found themselves hungrier than ever. Gawain's punishments for dishonesty were strict, as survival for everyone was at stake.
Thanks to the new system, the construction of the outpost camp progressed rapidly, preparing it for the arrival of the larger group. Under Gawain's direction, the camp's fence extended hundreds of meters south and east, leaving space for the upcoming seven hundred people to set up tents. Space was also allocated for carpenters, masons, and blacksmiths, as well as storage areas for supplies.
Gawain had also ordered a temporary dock along the river and planned a sawmill nearby to process timber from the western forest. However, with only a hundred laborers, even with Heidi's magical assistance, progress on the camp was limited. At this moment, Gawain genuinely wished Rebecca could cast spells other than fireball…
Standing on a hill by the riverside, Gawain gazed at a large wooden structure nearing completion. It was one of the few buildings in the camp that could be called a "house" and was intended as a temporary blacksmith's workshop. Though the mountain vault contained a trove of refined metal ingots, most were exotic metals—mithril, adamantine, purple copper, and purple steel—unsuitable for basic nails or tools.
The iron mine to the east had been preliminarily surveyed, though it wasn't yet ready for mining. A few samples of iron ore had been gathered for testing, and once the blacksmiths set up their furnaces, the Cecil domain would officially enter the Iron Age.
Gawain sighed, burdened by thoughts of the magical tides and the mysterious satellite in the sky.
Nearby, Rebecca, who had been shading her eyes with her hand, noticed his sigh and looked over at him with a frown. "Why are you sighing? Can't I rest here for a moment?"
"Must you assume I'm that unreasonable?" Gawain replied, exasperated. "Have I ever pushed you that hard?"
Amber, who had joined them, jumped in gleefully. "Hey, sparring with you is fun! I've never met a noble who's this easy to argue with without getting upset. It's so refreshing!"
Gawain looked away, unwilling to humor her further. But Amber persisted. "You still haven't answered—why are you sighing?"
"It's too slow…," Gawain shook his head. "It's all too slow."
Amber's eyes widened. "You're complaining about their work speed? This is slow?!"
She threw her arms up in exasperation. "Do you even have a conscience? These people are the fastest-working serfs and laborers I've ever seen! Yesterday, they finished the new fence in under a day, and today they're already building the blacksmith workshop. This speed is insane!"
She muttered, "I used to think you were nice for giving them meat and forbidding whippings…"
Gawain glanced at her. "I am a good person, and I don't blame them for working slowly. I can see they're doing their best, but overall… the camp's construction isn't keeping up with my plans."
"Maybe your plans are unrealistic…" Amber scoffed. Then, suspiciously, she added, "You've seemed off these last few days, with your head full of mysterious things. You were even planning a barbican this morning when the camp's barely up. What's got you so spooked?"
Gawain replied without looking at her, "The end of the world, the sky falling, maybe aliens?"
"Admit it, you're worried," Amber teased, hands on her hips. "When did it start? Ah, I remember—right after the red spots appeared on the sun! You've been uneasy ever since."
Gawain looked at her, surprised. "Do you spend all your time observing me?"
"I have better things to do," Amber retorted. "But your mood change was obvious. Even your two… um, great-granddaughters noticed, though they didn't dare ask."
Gawain blinked, startled. "Really? Has it been that obvious?"
Reflecting on his recent mood, Gawain started considering how he could adjust his outlook. Amber, meanwhile, tapped her chin thoughtfully and suddenly blurted out, "What did you mean by 'aliens'?"
Gawain sighed, at a loss for words. Just as he was about to answer, a small figure appeared at the edge of his vision—Betty, the little maid in her coarse dress, was running toward him.
The girl stopped in front of Gawain, catching her breath, and looked up at him with wide eyes. "Madam Heidi wants you to come over."
"What for?" he asked.
Betty thought for a moment and then said blankly, "I forgot!"
Gawain sighed, while Amber noticed Betty's empty hands and asked, "Where's your precious frying pan?"
Betty replied earnestly, "Miss Rebecca said this is our new home, so I put it in the kitchen."
Following the group on the journey, Betty had been tasked with carrying cookware, and, now that they had a "home," she'd left it in the kitchen—just as Hanson's wife had taught her.
But Gawain already understood why Heidi was summoning him. He'd seen the figures approaching from the west.
The second wave… had finally arrived.