Her pale, delicate body trembled ceaselessly under
After giving birth, Ilina's figure had grown fuller, no longer the slender thing she once was. Lorist had taken a page from Henned's book and made Ilina his concubine, registering the son she had borne him in the family registry as his first-in-line heir.
He savored the lingering afterglow while idly fondling the fullness of Ilina's chest. After a long while, Ilina gave him a push. "My lord, let me up — I'll fetch some water to clean you off..."
"No need. Lie still and be good. Let's go again..."
"No, my lord — tonight, can't it wait? It's still noon, uh..." Ilina couldn't finish her sentence. Lorist's hardness entered her body once more...
After giving birth, Ilina had insisted on staying at Maplewood Manor to raise the child, refusing point-blank to return to Firmrock Castle with Lorist. She said she had grown up here since she was small and long since grown attached to every blade of grass and every tree at Maplewood Manor, unwilling to go somewhere unfamiliar. Lorist didn't want to force her, so he yielded to her wishes, only coming back to Maplewood Manor every so often to stay a few days, share a few intimate evenings with her, and dote on his beloved son.
In October, Lorist found himself with a bit of free time — mainly because the string of failed experiments had left him feeling discouraged and unwilling to continue making further attempts. He rested at Maplewood Manor for five or six days before Schwei reminded him that he ought to go to the Blade Mountains to bring Miss Tessie back to Firmrock Castle. Only then did Lorist bid farewell to Ilina and his beloved son, setting off toward the Blade Mountains with his personal guards.
Miss Tessie had brought over a dozen of her students to the Blade Mountains to select a suitable site for the academy. The place they finally chose was not far from Northfield Town — a broad hillside blanketed in golden chrysanthemums, with a clear, babbling stream running through it. Miss Tessie was so taken by the natural beauty of the area that she ordered the guards escorting them to set up camp right there. Amid these picturesque surroundings, she proceeded to teach her students about the natural world.
The moment Lorist arrived at the camp, he saw the little girl Eliza come charging over and throw her arms around him. She shouted with delight, "Uncle Locke, you're finally here!"
Lorist doted on the little girl and ruffled her hair, casually picking out the bits of grass stuck in it. "Where have you been running around now? Your hair's full of grass."
Eliza giggled and said, "Zeno and his brother are such idiots! They couldn't even tell the difference between selaria roots and celery roots. They kept insisting the two were the same thing — that they were both wild vegetables you could eat — and the Instructor scolded them for it…"
Selaria root was a medicinal ingredient. Slightly toxic. Celery root was an edible wild vegetable. The two kinds of roots looked somewhat similar, and careless people could easily confuse them.
"Well, Eliza's so clever, you must be able to tell them apart, right?" Lorist laughed with amusement.
"Of course! I was the fastest one. Out of that whole big pile, I finished sorting mine first, and the Instructor even praised me!" Eliza declared proudly, using both hands to gesture at how big the pile of roots had been.
"Eliza's amazing. When you grow up, you'll surely be just like the Instructor — a great female scholar," Lorist complimented her.
Eliza pouted. "Hmph, I don't want to be like the Instructor! She's the biggest scaredy-cat ever. Last time she saw a gray mountain rat, she screamed for help. When I grow up, I want to be like Aunt Bai Sha — a female knight! Riding a horse majestically, lancing every magical beast in sight, skewering them one after another…"
"Oh?" Lorist was quite surprised. He hadn't realized the young lady Bai Sha had such a tiny admirer. He really couldn't figure out what was so impressive about that busty, scatterbrained female knight for this little girl to idolize. Then again, thinking about it, the idea of Eliza becoming a female knight wasn't a bad notion at all. Eliza had always been as mischievous and rowdy as a boy — she would never make a quiet, bookish scholar like Miss Tessie.
"Go see your brother. You've been out running around for months — did you forget all about him?" Lorist playfully flicked the little girl's nose.
"Hmph, mean Uncle. Flicking my nose again… Big brother!" The little girl launched herself toward Schwarz, who had been following behind Lorist.
"Teacher, look who I brought you..." Eliza blurted out as she lifted the tent flap and ducked inside. Lorist followed her into the large tent.
Miss Tessie, who had been busy sketching, looked up and smiled: "Locke, you're here?"
"Yes. I'm here to take you back to
"Is this the academy design you came up with?"
Miss Tessie stood up, walked over to Lorist, and threw her arms around him, planting a sweet kiss on his lips. After a gentle peck, she turned and said: "Yes, it's my preliminary concept for the academy's layout. I'll need to send it to
"Alright, we'll set out tomorrow morning. First to Poplar Flats, then to Black Mud Swamp. Master Siroba should be in one of those two places. I also need to inspect several of the development projects over there, and then we'll head back to Rock Fortress together," Lorist said.
"Will you be taking the children along?" Miss Tessie asked.
"...won't let them get lost. Besides, with tens of thousands of people working together over there, the scale is quite impressive. The children should see for themselves what it means when sheer numbers make all the difference — the grand campaign to reshape the land, turning swamps into homes..."
…
Poplar Flats had already transformed into an astonishingly bustling construction site. Over twenty thousand laborers were building a new settlement there. The foundations for the city walls had already been laid, and now they were digging trenches to extract soil for making mud bricks to erect the walls. The person in charge was a dark, gaunt middle-aged man whom Lorist remembered as a subordinate administrator from Hansk's statistics department. Whether he had been promoted or simply pressed into service for lack of better options, the poor fellow had been thrust into the role of steward here as though someone had shoved him onto the stage against his will.
"Sir, the construction work here is progressing very smoothly. We'll be able to complete the preliminary construction of the city walls and set up all the warehouses before winter arrives. Next year, we can begin stockpiling supplies." The dark, gaunt man reported respectfully.
"Good, you've done well. Keep it up. By the way, is Master Xiluoba here?" Lorist asked.
"Sir, Master Xiluoba left just two days ago. He went over to Turtle Mountain — it seems there are still some problems with the water collection and drainage system structure over there. It needs some modifications." The dark, gaunt man replied.
"Hmm..." Lorist nodded. "It's still early, so I won't linger here. Go fetch me some fresh water — once we fill the waterskins, we'll head to the Black Mud Marsh."
"Of course, sir. Please wait a moment, I'll have someone bring water right away."
While Lorist was talking with the dark, gaunt man, several large cauldrons had been set up in a small rest plaza in the distance. A few big beef bones were bobbing up and down in the boiling broth inside the pots. This was one of the perks the
The ones tending to the cauldrons were a big-bellied Fatty and his equally plump wife. Whenever the broth in any of the pots got low, they had to add water and a bit of salt.
A tall, large-framed old man was standing to one side of the pots, sipping the bone broth from a large bowl in small mouthfuls.
"Old sir, sit down and take your time drinking. You can stay here tonight — I'll get you a beef bone to gnaw on. Don't let the fact that all the meat's been boiled off these bones fool you — if you crack them open, the marrow inside is a real delicacy. Perfect for nourishing the body of someone your age." The big-bellied Fatty was a warm-hearted fellow, chattering away as he handed the old man a piece of black bread.
"Here, old sir. Soak this black bread in the bone broth and it'll soften up and taste great in no time. Have a bit to fill your stomach first." The Fatty stirred the broth in the large cauldrons a few more times with his big iron ladle, put the lids back on, and told his wife to take away some of the firewood — no need to keep the fire burning too strong. Then he walked over and sat down beside the old man.
"I've seen cases like yours plenty of times lately. Really, old sir, I'm not deceiving you. From time to time, families and relatives of war prisoners come here hoping to find their sons, husbands, brothers, and the like. If you're from Northland, then there's a ninety percent chance you can find your relatives. But you say you're from Winston Province, which makes things a bit more difficult. The
"The Norton Family aren't those vicious lord forces who slaughter indiscriminately. They don't kill without cause, and they won't seize commoners' belongings. I can guarantee that. Look at us — my wife and I were forced to come here, but we harbor no resentment. Before, working as a cook for our old master, if I didn't do well enough I'd get beaten and cursed at. It wasn't until we came here that we felt real freedom. Once the town construction is finished, they say they'll give us a house and some farmland. I plan to open a little snack shop then and live out our days in peace and stability. It's something we never dreamed of — that we could actually live a good life…"
"Old sir, if you were literate, you could look up your grandson's whereabouts in the registry. But since you can't read, and you only know your grandson's name is Hilo without knowing how to write it, and there are many people with the same name, that's why you have to search place by place like this. As for war prisoners, they're essentially all at Blackmire Marsh. There are three locations there, and you'll have to check them one by one. Really, finding your way here was a mistake — this is the laborer camp, where you get paid for your work. Over at Blackmire Marsh, it's war prisoners performing forced labor. They have to work for three years before they're granted freedom…"
"Who is that?" The tall, large-framed old man raised his head, looking toward the distant crowd and carriages.
The Fatty cook stood up and watched for a moment, then called out joyfully, "That's the Lord himself! It's quite rare to see him. Looks like he's just passing through here — perhaps he's heading to Blackmire Marsh for an inspection…"
"Which one is the Lord? Is he inside the carriage?" the tall old man asked.
"No, he's the one riding a horse at the very front. Our Lord doesn't really like wearing standard-issue armor. He has long black hair and a pair of black eyes — very easy to recognize. That's him, the one wearing the black cloak up ahead. When he was at Rock Fortress, he once inspected the commoners' camp, and I caught a glimpse of him." The Fatty cook answered with great excitement.
"Oh…" The tall elder rose to his feet. In that instant, the Fatty cook was struck by a fleeting illusion — it was as if the old man before him had become a sharp, gleaming sword.
But by then, Lorist in the distance had already turned his horse and ridden off under the escort of his guards. The tall old man sat back down, resuming that frail and haggard appearance.
"Could you tell me about those three places?" the tall old man asked.
"Old man, were you a mercenary when you were younger?" Fatty the cook asked, bewildered. Just now, how had he seen the old man as a sword? Looking at him—tall, sturdy, and fit at sixty-some years old, having traveled all the way to the Northland to find his soldier grandson—he must have been a mercenary in his youth. This was probably what the Garrison Captain had once mentioned in idle chat: an aura, a bearing that lingered even in old age.
The tall old man nodded. "Yes, I was a mercenary for forty years. Because this grandson's parents died early, I came home to watch over him. It was a struggle to raise him, and then off he went to serve the King, saying he wanted to become a knight. When I heard the King's army was defeated and wiped out, I rushed out to find him..."
Fatty the cook felt relieved. "Don't worry, old man. Sigwa will watch over your grandson and keep him safe. I saw the Lord head off towards the Blackmud Swamp just now; he was probably going to inspect that area. The closest spots are where the Blade Ridge Mountains meet the swamp, then further in is the central path through the Blackmud Swamp, and finally over by Tortoise Mountain. War prisoners are doing labor at all three places. But the largest number should be over at Tortoise Mountain. The schedule there is tight, and I hear the workload is heavy."
"Oh. I'll go to Tortoise Mountain first to ask around. If I don't find him, I'll go check the other two places. Thank you for the bone soup and the black bread." The tall old man stood up to leave.
Fatty the cook stopped him. "Old man, how long will it take you walking? See over there? Those carts are loaded full of supplies bound for Tortoise Mountain. I know a few of the wagon drivers. I'll ask them to give you a lift this afternoon, they're going that way too."
"Oh, thank you so much," the tall old man said, bowing repeatedly in thanks.
"Don't mention it. When you're out and about, everyone runs into difficulties. Of course, you lend a hand if you can. Old man, I wish you find your grandson soon. Then you can settle down here and live a peaceful life," Fatty the cook said with a hearty laugh.
…
Lorist, taking Miss Tresis and the children with him, first went to inspect the land-reclamation work at the point where the Blade Ridge Mountains met the Blackmud Swamp. After staying a day, they proceeded to the central path. The progress of building the road with filled stones was still very slow. The main reason was the frequent attacks by Ironspine Gulf crocodiles. Although few people were injured, the work was significantly delayed.
When Lorist arrived, three super steel crossbows happened to take effect, shooting and killing an Ironspine Gulf crocodile over twenty meters long. It was the largest one killed so far. The children gathered excitedly around the crocodile's carcass, and the mischievous Elisa was already climbing with the Zeno brothers toward the very top.
Lorist immediately decided to have the Ironspine Gulf crocodile mounted as a specimen, thinking to himself that such a massive, long crocodile would be far more impressive for intimidation than those mammoth magic elephants. He lingered at the central path for two days over this matter, and only set out for Turtle Mountain once everything was arranged.
Bodfenger, who was in charge of overseeing the war prisoners doing labor, came with a party to greet them. Seeing that the mud-wall fortification being built along the route was already largely complete, and that the remaining sections could be finished well before winter arrived, Lorist was very satisfied.
Upon reaching Turtle Mountain, they moved directly into the military camp. Miss Tresis went off to find Master Syloba, and that was that. Lorist wandered here and there, occasionally gesticulating and offering directions, and with everyone fawning over him, he thoroughly enjoyed his fill of playing the lord.
On the third day, Lorist decided to head to the far side of Turtle Mountain for an outdoor barbecue. There was a hillside and a stream over there. Miss Tresis wanted to take her students to do sketching and painting on wooden boards, while Lorist planned to send the guards out to procure some game for the grill.
Carrying two plump pheasants, Lorist emerged from the treeline and walked over to where Miss Tresis sat with a furrowed brow. "Hey, what are you thinking about? You look so worried."
"Nothing really. I'm trying to figure out how to design the emblem for the completed academy," Miss Tresis said.
"Haha, what's so hard about that? Radi, go fetch that small box from the compartment under the carriage," Lorist called out.
Before long, Radi brought the small box over.
That kid had been thoroughly tormented these past few days by the chart of human acupoints and meridian pathways that Lorist had assigned him. He'd been trying to rote-memorize the whole thing, kept forgetting it at regular intervals, and had gone rather dull-eyed and wooden from the effort.
Lorist opened the small box and said with an air of smug pride, "Here, dear, take a look at my collection."
Inside the small box, the first thing visible was a thick layer of plush velvet; only after lifting it aside could one see the various academy badges pinned across it.
"Look, these are the badges I collected from different academies when I was studying in
Before he could finish, shouts and screams erupted from not far away: "Stop right there, you old— ahhh!"
"Enemy attack, ugh—"
Lorist spun around to see a tall, broad old man bursting out of the small grove, a long sword in hand, charging straight toward him at terrifying speed. Behind the old man, three guards were clutchting at their gushing throats and collapsing to the ground.
"Norton Family head, hand over your life!" With that thunderous roar, the towering old man merged with his blade as one, hurtling forward like a bolt of lightning...
...(To be continued.)