---
With 67,910 mana crystals and another 150k gold coins added to my coffers, even after deducting the usual 300k transfer to Lucia, I felt my treasury grow heavier.
Before me stood 10,000 vials of elven potions—a glowing treasure of opportunity.
I carefully set aside 450 potions for Kirin, as she had recruited three more members into the Chamber of Commerce yesterday. A fine job.
To entice these new members into staying, I posted 5,000 potions for sale at 100 gold each, ensuring a steady influx of wealth.
But greed whispered in my ear. For the remaining 4,550 potions, I listed them in the official mart for 150 gold apiece. The scarcity would drive their perceived value through the roof.
As I plotted these small schemes, I decided to indulge myself with a walk along the walls. It had been too long since I last took this serene, six-hour journey through the wild lands.
I wondered about Benny. That old bag of bones hadn't sent any word in a while. But that's fine, I mused. I had amassed enough wealth to disappear into obscurity if my kingdom ever fell.
For now, I embraced the tranquility around me.
---
Meanwhile, at the laboratory, Barns sat in deep thought.
After receiving 3x the budget needed for potion crafting, he had been trying to decipher my intentions. Why so much funding for something already running smoothly?
Unable to solve the puzzle himself, Barns approached his master, the one figure whose wisdom he always trusted.
With her usual sharp gaze, she asked,
"Barns, what are we?"
"Alchemists, Master," he replied, unsure where this was headed.
"And what do alchemists do?"
"Innovate new ideas and bring them to life," he answered, though he felt these were too basic to be meaningful.
She smirked, snapping her fingers.
"Exactly. And what has your lord been doing? He hasn't visited since assigning you to enchant 250k magic cores. Does that mean he doesn't care?"
Barns opened his mouth to answer but was cut off.
"No! It's the opposite. He does care, Barns. But we've been approaching this wrong. We're alchemists. We innovate—not mass-produce!
The extra funding? It's a silent directive. Build a factory for mass production and leave us free to develop new breakthroughs from the revenue of those products."
Barns, overwhelmed by her analysis, simply nodded. He didn't fully grasp the depth of her reasoning, but he trusted her implicitly.
---
Barns rushed to Lucia's office with a drafted proposal in hand. Though he had funds to begin construction, he needed her expertise to ensure the plans were sound.
Lucia's workspace was a mess—papers stacked high, ledgers crammed into shelves, and the faint smell of coffee lingering in the air. She looked ghostly, as if she'd been working days without rest.
Barns hesitated but knew he had to press forward.
"I have a draft for a factory and sub-laboratory. Initial funding of 200k gold coins is allocated, with potential for future investments once revenues stabilize."
Lucia scanned the document, nodding absently as she made notes in the margins. Despite her exhaustion, her focus was sharp.
"You'll get approval in three days," she muttered, not looking up.
Barns hesitated. "You look... worn out. Are you okay?"
She stopped writing, giving him a tired but determined smile.
"Our lord has placed heavy expectations on me. There's no room for rest until this kingdom is secure. You should know that better than anyone, Barns."
Barns nodded, retreating silently. As he left, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of pity for her. She bore the weight of an entire kingdom's finances, operations, and future—and yet, she never complained.
Perhaps this is her trial, he thought.
---