Victor summoned the blacksmith and instructed him first to produce a cube according to his drawings, followed by ten plows.
The blacksmith stared at the diagram handed to him by the butler, depicting a barrel with tubes and a small auxiliary container.
He couldn't comprehend its purpose, but, recalling his earlier ignorance about plows, his blood simmered with anticipation that this might be another ingenious invention from his lord, capable of transforming his perspective.
— My lord, grant me three days; I'll handle it, — he said, glancing at Victor.
— Finish it within a day, and I'll reward you with another gold coin, — the lord announced.
— My lord, I can't complete it quicker, — Karram replied immediately. — For me, it's a matter of honor as a blacksmith to perform your commission as expeditiously as possible.
Victor paused, finding it unusual to hear the word "honor" from a blacksmith, as well as discovering that his daughter was literate, which was anomalous in this world.
Individuals with such trades rarely taught their children literacy. Daughters were typically groomed for marriage, while sons inherited their fathers' skills.
— Very well, I'll await good news, — Victor said, departing toward the castle with Alganis.
He proceeded to the rear courtyard, intent on resuming training. To enhance his strength rapidly, he needed more rigorous workouts.
Upon reaching the site with the knight, the lord instantly equipped his armor, marveling at its unexpected lightness. Thoughts lingered briefly before assuming a combat stance.
Raising his shield to eye level, Victor prepared for combat, gripping the shield in his left hand and the hammer in his right.
— Engage, — he commanded, prompting Alganis to attack without delay.
Again, the clash of shield and blade ensued, but this time, the strikes felt weaker. Encouraged, Victor requested the knight increase his intensity.
Uncertain but compliant, Alganis escalated his strength to bronze level and launched a barrage of full-power strikes. Instantly, yesterday's sensation returned. Blows landed like hammer strokes, and after fifteen minutes, Victor halted the bout.
Breathing heavily, he removed his armor and collapsed onto the ground, while Alganis watched him incredulously, alternating his gaze between the lord and his sword.
— My lord, this is impossible, — the knight exclaimed.
— What do you mean?
— Your level has skyrocketed to the peak of iron knighthood, but that can't happen, — Alganis skeptically argued.
Victor rapidly deliberated on plausible explanations, resorting to deceit.
— Alganis, my strength was suppressed; I don't know how or by whom. Obtaining this armor enabled me to restore my level and grow even faster. If word gets out, I'll attract many enemies, — he justified.
Concluding with a reference to acquiring enemies, emphasizing that enemies of his lord would automatically become enemies of his vassals.
Powerless and without landholdings, Alganis was nonetheless Victor's vassal, implying that whatever befell his lord would affect him likewise.
With that, the lord rose and headed to the dining hall, where preparations for lunch were ongoing. Both washed up and took seats at the table. Meanwhile, Victor opened the cloud menu, noticing significant changes in the displayed statistics.
Strength: 19 (up by 8 points)Agility: 15 (up by 6 points)Armor rating improved from -91% to -85%
However, Intelligence and Luck remained unchanged, leaving him uncertain how to improve them. His assumption was that Intellect could be enhanced by studying magic-related texts, excluding those he had previously read, focusing instead on works explicitly teaching new spells.
Luck, however, remained a mystery, and he had no clue how to augment it.
Mid-contemplation, lunch ended, and Victor sat idle, holding his knife and fork, until Lulu interrupted, checking if he had fallen asleep again.
Amused, he put down his utensils, reassured the maid, and exited the dining hall.
Accompanied by his knight, the lord mounted horses and rode toward the nearest village.
Upon arrival, the baron observed villagers bustling and cleaning streets. They'd scraped soil into bags and hauled it to the village perimeter, depositing it in a communal cesspit.
Spotting their lord, they immediately knelt.
— Cease this behavior; continue your work, or you'll never finish, — Victor bellowed, needing a pretext to discourage kneeling.
People hesitated, fearing to move, until Alganis roared, driving them back to work.
"I need to adjust my mindset, not try changing theirs," Victor mused. Kind gestures were ignored, but harsh commands yielded compliance.
Surveying the roads, he noted the ground had been excavated nearly a meter deep, evidence of accumulated waste over years.
Curiously, even buildings appeared taller than originally perceived, as serfs had cleared debris around them.
This scene resonated with his memory of the journey to his domain. The road was so rutted that the carriage jolted violently, partly explaining traders' aversion to visiting this area.
In this world, markets didn't exist. Traders operated stalls and shops in urban centers, while mobile peddlers bought goods from various territories, ferrying them to cities where demand existed, selling to local vendors.
These reflections led Victor to summon the village elder while waiting, distracted by ideas triggered by his observations. Interrupted by Alganis announcing the elder's arrival, he refocused.
Eyeing the old man, Victor judged him healthier than yesterday. Evidently, the distributed food had already begun effecting improvements, warranting reinforcement to stabilize the gains.
— Remind me of your name, — he inquired.
— My lord, this slave's name is Prott, — the elder replied.
Naming conventions in this world were bizarre. An extensive list banned certain names, enforced by church officials to prevent serfs adopting royal or noble titles.
Six primary religions predominated: Goddess Iris of Earth, Light God Kyros, Darkness Goddess Symila, Life Goddess Latia, Death God Amros, and War God Baltaar.
Minor divinities existed throughout the continent, worshiped without churches or priests.
— Announce publicly that fifty men will be hired for constructing a road connecting our territory to Baron Clint's, — he instructed the elder. — Inform them I'll pay five copper coins daily.
The elder, near collapse from processing this revelation—that their lord had gone insane, willing to compensate serfs for labor—could only nod mutely.
Next, Victor ordered mobilization of workers to prepare fields for planting using the new plowing technique, requiring more land clearance. Additional messengers were dispatched to relay this mandate to all villages.
Issuing directives, the baron journeyed to the western village, intending to implement a measure that would yield increased crops next season.
Arriving, he summoned the elder and, accompanied by him, explored the riverbank, searching for something unseen by either companion, neither daring to inquire.
Five hours later, Victor halted, marking spots along the river's straight bankline.
Identifying four additional sites, he annotated them on parchment.
Hours of aimless searching culminated in cryptic notes, leaving observers mystified but hopeful, perceiving their lord's apparent satisfaction.
Parting with another gratuity of two copper coins, he rode away, smiling broadly, leaving the elders and knight puzzled.
Returning to the castle, he ascended to his study, locking himself inside for three hours.
Seated at his desk, he sketched diagrams on parchment, discarding drafts repeatedly. Perfection eluded him, and he longed for Chinese paper, ubiquitous in his former world. Unfortunately, he had no clue how to produce it, and such technology didn't exist here.
Without this simple yet pivotal invention, he wrestled with parchment, which was both inconvenient and malodorous, inducing headaches.
Aware that paper derived from cellulose obtained from spruce, pine, birch, and other trees, he lacked the manufacturing process. Solving this quandary was deferred.
Interrupted late at night by a maid complaining about his neglect of health, she brought dinner to his study, staying until he finished eating.
Fatigue rendered him incapable of further work, and the youth stumbled toward bed.
The next morning, Lulu awakened him prematurely, her characteristic cheerfulness intact, assisting with his preparations.
Descending to the dining hall, he joined Alganis for breakfast. Rising afterward, he was informed by Jinn that the blacksmith awaited him.
Ecstatic, Victor nearly leapt from his seat, as the sole reason for the visit was readiness of the distillation cube.
Hardly containing his excitement, he marched to the courtyard, where Karram stood, visibly exhausted from sleepless nights but smiling.
Removing the burlap covering the metal vat, Victor finally glimpsed the contraption, though imperfect, it accurately mirrored his drawing.
Ordered to transport the cube to a barn behind the castle, they added wine barrels and firewood.
Once primed, boiling wine initiated the distillation process. Unversed in the procedure, Victor understood the mechanics of the cube.
As the chamber heated, the barn became unbearable, prompting everyone outdoors, leaving a servant monitoring a cooling tube dripping into a small cup.
Hours later, the servant emerged holding a transparent liquid, carefully transferring it to the lord.
Victor had never been a frequent drinker in his previous life, indulging only on New Year's Eve or birthdays, but he knew what he faced.
Under watchful eyes, he took a sip. The fluid seared his throat, inducing momentary vertigo. Unprepared for such intensity, he realized the previous owner's tolerance was inferior.
Alganis, standing opposite, grew alarmed as his lord's cheeks flushed crimson, reflexively gripping his sword hilt. The servant, mortified, feared blame for delivering poisoned liquor.
Recovering quickly, Victor flashed a broad smile and passed the cup to Alganis.
The knight scrutinized the crystalline liquid, then, encouraged by his lord's "drink" command, gulped it down.
Choking, Alganis gasped, momentarily suspecting poisoning, but relief swept over him, leaving only warmth and tipsiness.
Victor now recalled his error: he'd said "drink" instead of "take a sip," resulting in Alganis consuming the entire contents.
— My lord, this is magical brew, — Alganis declared, recovering. — Is this alchemy?
Hearing this inquiry, Victor recalled his uncertainty: he didn't know how to explain it and decided to defer answering.
— I'll explain later, — he dismissed, instructing Jinn to restrict entry to the barn, accessible only to trusted personnel.
Granting Karram one gold coin, he offered him permanent appointment as the castle's official blacksmith.
***
Certain professions could integrate into a noble household. Tailors, blacksmiths, tanners, and monks exemplified this status, parallel to knighthood for soldiers. One might be a soldier, but inclusion in a noble household signified elevation.
***
Karram, astounded, remained mute, eventually accepting the proposal, recognizing it as a survival mechanism rather than an invitation. Observing the lord's restrictions on barn access implied safeguarding secrets within the castle.
Unknown to Victor, his intention was merely to incentivize the blacksmith, ensuring loyalty and retention on his land.