Three days had passed since the experiment with drying bricks began. Victor stood before the kiln, eagerly awaiting extraction of the first batch to assess the outcome.
Half an hour later, the serfs finally retrieved the first samples, and what lay before him caused his heart to skip a beat. None of the specimens were intact; all were cracked and deformed, suggesting either flawed composition or incorrect temperature settings.
Bricks were stacked in rows atop wooden racks. Upon removing the upper row, relief washed over him: more than half of the second tier preserved their shape, unlike the first.
Consulting notes compiled by Jinn, Victor reviewed compositions of surviving bricks. Twelve survived specimens showed minimal variation, likely signaling proximity to the desired result.
Next phase: firing. Success hinged on retaining at least half of the batch post-firing, marking triumph in this trial.
Having issued orders for new samples, he transferred bricks back into the kiln. Despite risks, ignorance loomed large; rudimentary insights stemmed from anecdotes shared by instructors during lectures, discussing unrelated topics.
Knowledge of kilns originated from metalworking studies, specifically during apprenticeship as a blast furnace worker. Discussion veered toward domes, sparking instructor's enthusiasm for diverse types of ovens, including brick-burning ones.
Unfortunately, data remained sketchy, demanding improvisation. Blast furnace principles diverged starkly from current setups, providing useful context on functioning mechanisms and internal processes.
Ordered removal of defective pieces, functional bricks were returned to the kiln. Next step: seal all openings and raise temperature. Essentially, bricks would undergo tempering, eliminating temperature fluctuations.
Obeying orders, serfs executed tasks promptly. This time, only one row remained, owing to several factors. Firstly, additional test samples were unavailable. Secondly, multi-tier placement was unfeasible.
Drying succeeded due to low heat, avoiding ignition of wooden supports. Now, temperatures would reach approximately six hundred degrees, necessitating metal spacers fabricated by blacksmiths. Again, the pressing issue of iron supply arose.
Realizing work would stall without metal, Victor decided immediate action was mandatory. Upon Alganís' return, he planned to attack the stronghold and uncover its secrets.
Completing tasks at the camp, he traveled to Rivenhall. Time to inspect fertilizers and prepare fields for sowing.
An hour and a half later, the baron stood amidst fields sprinkled with mediocre fertilizer. Employing plant ash and food waste, he attempted to mitigate toxicity.
Divinity alone could predict success.
Commanding collection of scattered materials and distribution across cultivated fields, serfs hesitated initially. Viewing the lord's directive as extreme, only intervention by the village elder compelled reluctant compliance.
Anticipating sabotage, Victor remained on-site to oversee operations.
Exhausted by evening, the lord departed the field, returning to his castle. Dust-covered and sweat-soaked, he entered the foyer, encountering Linea once more—not coincidentally present, but deliberately awaiting him.
— Good evening, Baron, — the girl awkwardly curtsied, seemingly adjusting her behavior to match attire. — May I inquire where you spend your entire day?
Victor heard her, preoccupied with deeper concerns.
"Why hasn't her father sent anyone upon learning of her condition? And why isn't she concerned about staying in an unmarried nobleman's castle?"
Regardless of this realm's dynamics, such situations posed serious issues among nobility. No gentleman would leave his daughter unaccompanied in foreign lodging. Potential consequences included forced marriage due to rape, threatening inheritance. Consequently, nobles exercised caution regarding these scenarios. Being a bronze-level knight did not absolve this dilemma.
— Please excuse me, my lady, my lands suffer severe shortages, compelling me to explore every means of enhancing livelihoods, — Victor reluctantly explained, returning to reality.
Linea eyed him skeptically.
"So I believe you, Baron? Your wine and salt income suffice for royal living standards; clearly, something else motivates you."
Trusting such narratives was implausible, given most nobles clung tenaciously to profitable enterprises, ignoring broader contexts.
***
Understanding the mindset of nobility reveals peculiarities. Disregard for commerce restricted earnings primarily to land ownership. Modern readers might perceive this shortsightedly, akin to lottery winners squandering vast sums rapidly. Human mentality dictates priorities.
Thus, nobles securing iron mines hoarded gains, disregarding agricultural opportunities, purchasing essentials via profits from sold ore. Exceptions exist, but 90% adhere rigidly to this paradigm.
***
Before posing further questions, Linea sensed ripples of magic.
— Someone leveled up — muttered Linea.
Victor detected identical vibrations, confirming elevation of one of his soldiers to iron-knight status. Routine explanation: rigorous training.
However, prior to articulation, another wave struck, followed by successive tremors totaling twenty-three distinct pulses resonating through the castle. Magi alone perceived these undulations. Given Linea's widened eyes, she undoubtedly registered each vibration.
Denial of experiencing a magician's ascension surge was futile. Any magus familiar with level progression recognized these sensations.
— Twenty…three… — whispered the girl incredulously. — How is this possible?
Victor grappled with silencing her, aware revelation of simultaneous creation of twenty-three magi threatened inevitable scrutiny. No falsehood could obscure such anomalous proliferation.
Neither concentration stones justified rapid growth, as blessing conferred primary blame. Disclosing this secret was impermissible.
Mid-contemplation, the study door swung open, revealing ecstatic Alganís.
— My lord… — he halted mid-sentence, spotting the girl, recognizing the brewing catastrophe.
Mutual silence ensued, punctuated by a maid's entrance.
— Milord, Vorcat seeks audience with urgent tidings.
"Have you all colluded?" echoed through Victor's mind.
Escape proved impossible; resolution was imminent. Preventing disclosure demanded negotiation, ensuring confidentiality.
Resignedly gesturing dismissal, he addressed the baroness.
— My lady, might we discuss privately?
— Of course, I intended to propose as much, — the girl readily agreed.
Turning to his knight,
— Alganís, unless urgent matters arise, defer discussion till later, — Victor dismissed him, exiting to his office flanked by Linea.
Alganís, fresh from reconnaissance, yearned to divulge updates from Clint territory. Postponing, he joined soldiers investigating promotion recipients.
Victor guided Linea into his study, closing doors behind them. Gesturing invitation, he indicated seating opposite his desk.
— Let me clarify: disclosing full details proves impossible, — Victor prefaced. — I am prepared, however, to compensate for your discretion.
Speech ceased; uncertainty gripped him. Agreement hinged on negotiating terms and praying gods secured her word.
Alternatively, coercing matrimony, imprisoning her within the castle, killing her en route to Clint, blaming bandits, or incarcerating her indefinitely, citing disappearance—all equally unpalatable.
Violence contradicted his nature; fatal acts, save self-defense, violated moral code.
— I harbor no intention of exposing your secret, — Linea countered, heightening suspicion further. Old wisdom warned: "Free cheese exists only in mousetraps." Subsequent remarks, however, alleviated tension.
— Can your secret enhance my level?
Victor's mind raced. Trusting strangers proved risky; even Alganís earned partial confidence.
Offering concentration stones bore flaws: universally recognized, detailed effects documented extensively, even central wizard towers maintained records, potentially stocking samples.
Referencing stones alone was insufficient; concurrent elevation of dozens defied plausibility.
Internal debate culminated in dubious choice, yet necessary compromise.
Retrieving a bracelet intended for his fiancée, Victor extracted it from inventory, placing it on the table.
— These are concentration stones; I suspected a link, but they fail to explain recent events, — Linea noted, examining the gift.
— Further demonstration occurs at the training yard, — Victor calmly announced.
Internally conflicted, resentment toward the girl dissipated. She committed no offense; queries stemmed from curiosity, choices his own.
Victor rose, exiting the study, intercepting the waiting maid.
— Sir Vorcat requests urgent meeting, insisting importance, — she reported.
Typical guests received swift rejection; Vorcat, equal in servant hierarchy, merited respect.
— Where is he? — inquired Victor.
— Outside, sir, awaiting your presence, — replied the maid.
Intending outdoor excursion regardless, Victor pivoted, catching glimpse of Linea trailing behind.
Emerging outdoors, Vorcat stood beside a cart, bowing enthusiastically upon recognition.
— My lord, forgive the disturbance, but extraordinary developments warrant sharing, — the merchant announced, awaiting instruction.
Absentmindedly, Victor neared the wagon, curious about contents beneath protective tarpaulin.
— Dwarves? — Victor exclaimed involuntarily.
Two drunken bodies rested within, identifiable as typical "dwarf" figures.
— Yes, my lord, unfortunately intoxicated, but assure you, worthy artisans, requiring copious wine to deliver them safely to Baltès, — Vorcat proudly elaborated.
Dwarves were common sights in metropolitan areas, occasionally spotted wandering city streets. Typically sedentary, resettlement marked heroic accomplishment.