This was essentially a valley, with two stretches of wall separated by roughly three hundred meters. The continuous mountain range came to an abrupt break here, and a wide road passed through the gap. The opening on the far side was not large—the wall built across it measured only seventy or eighty meters. Inside the wall, however, the valley between the mountain ridges spanned a full seven or eight hundred meters before the ranges converged again, leaving a gap over two hundred meters wide on this side. With the walls now complete, the valley had been sealed off.
This was truly an excellent spot for building a city. The terrain where the valley met the hills was gentle and gradual, perfect for constructing a castle against the mountainside. On the other side, although there was only a lone hill, its slopes were steep and its ridgeline extended deep into the distant black forest, forming a natural defensive barrier that cut off all traffic.
In the valley, the slave laborers had gathered in clusters of three or five around their camp, sunning themselves, chatting, and hollering. On days without work, they cherished the rare opportunity to rest. A dozen or so guards patrolled the camp in formation, occasionally meeting the slaves' awestruck and envious gazes.
On the far side of the valley stood rows upon rows of crude wooden houses, enclosed by a fence of unstripped logs. That was the storehouse
Not far from the storehouse was a wagon camp—the encampment of the convoy Lorist had brought along. Some of the guards' family members had used a horse cart to haul several large buckets of water from a pool beneath the distant cliff face, and were now washing and hanging laundry beside the wagons.
A girl was catching insects in the grass near the wagon camp, a horsehair whip swishing behind her.
Wasn't that Miss Tresti's maid, Little Vini? The sight of Little Vini reminded Lorist of Miss Tresti. He slapped his forehead—he had found his person for the city-building project.
"Go and invite Miss Tresti here. Tell her I have matters to discuss with her," Lorist instructed a guard beside him.
Miss Tresti arrived at the city wall with Little Vini and her black-iron steward in tow. Lorist welcomed them into the room where the large sand table was set up.
He described his plans for building the city and sincerely invited Miss Tresti to take charge of the project.
Miss Tresti asked, somewhat puzzled, why he would ask her to be the one in charge.
Lorist spread his hands and admitted he simply had no one else. Fortunately, all the design blueprints for the city had already been completed, and the castle model was half finished. Beyond minor adjustments to certain details during construction, there was no need to redesign the whole set of plans.
As the daughter and student of the renowned ruins researcher Sir Nico Albess, Miss Tresti had inherited her mother's knowledge and mantle in the field of ruins studies—she was a scholar in her own right. Lorist said that if she could make sense of those twisting, turning tunnels in the ruins, then reading these city-building blueprints would be a walk in the park. Who else but Miss Tresti could fill this role?
Miss Tresti still hesitated. Lorist told her that as the person in charge, he would arrange a full support team for her. Even in his absence, defense would be handled by
The situation in Northland was turbulent, and Lorist truly had no time to spare. If Miss Tresti was willing to help, then the sooner she helped him stabilize affairs here, the sooner he could free up time to take her to the black-mud swamps of Northland. Moreover, once the city was built, she could choose one of the hillside villas as her residence and permanent property. On top of that, Lorist would provide her with a generous fund to continue her ruins research.
It was unclear which of these conditions finally swayed Miss Tresti, but she at last nodded and agreed to take charge of the city-building project.
Lorist finally breathed a sigh of relief. He had Steward Boris brought over, then summoned Reidi, and ordered them both to assist Miss Tresti with the numerous matters of construction. He then turned over the five large buildings in the middle of the city wall to serve as her command center.
Early the next morning, Lorist found nearly a thousand slave laborers filing out of the city in orderly fashion. Reidi and Miss Tresti's black-iron steward, along with over forty guards, escorted them. Judging by the direction of the column, they were heading out to gather construction materials.
Lorist went to the command center. The moment he stepped inside, he saw Miss Tresti giving instructions to Steward Boris, who nodded repeatedly.
When she noticed Lorist, Miss Tresti asked what he needed.
Lorist said there were a few things he wanted to change. He picked up the castle model and began explaining to Miss Tresti and Steward Boris where he wanted modifications.
The Kemis family's original plan called for this to be a military garrison castle, occupied solely by Kemis family members and their garrison troops along with their families. This was what Lorist found most objectionable.
"The central castle can be removed. The castle built against the mountainside on this side is sufficient as the hub of the entire city. With the central castle gone, the remaining space on this side can be used to build a square, while the area near the road can naturally be incorporated into the residential and commercial districts."
Miss Tresti agreed that Lorist's changes were well-reasoned. She too had disliked the original design—building a massive castle in the middle of the valley, with the extending walls chopping the entire valley space to pieces. Now that Lorist planned to remove the central castle, it would not only reduce the difficulty of construction but also cut down the workload considerably.
The second change Lorist wanted to make concerned the four-meter-high rough stone wall at the front. The Kemis family had spent three months having slave laborers build the wall facing
Now that Lorist had reclaimed this castle construction site from Norton Family territory, that crudely built stone wall had become the first line of defense facing the Viscount's domain. Before Lorist arrived, Miss Tresti and Steward Boris had been discussing exactly how to renovate and reinforce this wall.
Lorist's idea was not to build it like the wall they were currently standing on. He took a blank piece of beast-hide paper and drew a convex shape, requesting that the wall be built in this configuration. If it were to be as long as the wall under their feet—over two hundred meters—the workload would be enormous. Fortunately, the front wall was only seventy or eighty meters long, and built to Lorist's specifications, it could be completed in a month-long push.
Seeing that Miss Tresti had noted down his requirements, Lorist took his leave.
By evening, Jossk,
Sedekamp and Pat brought forward a man in his sixties with graying temples. "My lord, this is Old Balak, the overseer the family had managing copper mining operations."
Old Balak bowed deeply to Lorist, his eyes reddening. "My lord, thank you for remembering us, for rescuing us..."
Lorist hurriedly helped Old Balak upright and spoke to him gently. They were all members of the same family—there was no need for such formality. The family's darkest hour had passed, and there would be future growth to attend to. He would need Old Balak and the others to continue giving their all for the family. But having just been freed from the mines, Old Balak and his companions should take proper care of their health. They could rest here for a while.
Old Balak was visibly emotional. He said he knew the family had been running into nothing but bad luck these past two years, and that the decline had accelerated sharply after the deaths of the eldest and third young masters. When Viscount Kemis had sent troops to seize the copper mine and thrown them into the tunnels to dig, he had given up all hope that anyone from the family would come to rescue them. He had expected to spend the rest of his life digging ore. Never had he imagined that Lorist would hear of their plight and send people to save them before even returning to the family estate to claim his title and lands.
Old Balak was deeply grateful. He thumped his chest, declaring he was in fine health, and insisted that Lorist put him to work—he refused to be a freeloader. So Lorist gathered everyone for a meeting, settled matters one by one, and assigned Old Balak to Miss Tresti's command center as well.
On the thirty-fourth of February, Lorist bid farewell to everyone, and he, Sedekamp, and Pat climbed into a four-wheeled carriage and set off for the Norton Family estate castle.
In Little Lok's memories, Lorist could find impressions of the Norton Family estate. The place was full—abundantly full—of maple trees, and every autumn the crimson foliage burned like fire, making for a truly beautiful sight. Among all those maple groves there rose a great white hill, and perched atop that white hill stood the Norton Family's estate castle.
Little Lok also remembered that the estate was vast. There were vineyards, chicken and pig farms, and a small lake shaped like a crescent moon. In summer, the children of the estate loved nothing more than playing in its waters. Across the lake stood the family stables, and those spirited, magnificent horses had been Little Lok's greatest passion—he would often stare at them, lost in a trance. Back then his mother was still alive, and she would fondly call Little Lok her little horse-crazy boy...
Seven hours later, Sedekamp brought the carriage to a halt. Pat knocked on the carriage door. "My lord, we've arrived."
Lorist stepped out of the carriage and found himself standing before a gray-white castle. The drawbridge had not yet been lowered.
"What's going on? Pat, why haven't the people inside lowered the drawbridge and opened the gate?" Lorist asked.
Pat said, "My lord, there's no one standing watch up there at all. They don't even know we've arrived..."
Sedekamp climbed into the carriage, found a cow horn, and put it to his lips, blowing a long, mournful blast...
"Who's down there?" Two figures finally appeared atop the castle, craning their necks to peer below.
"It's me, Sedekamp! And Pat! We've brought the second young master back!" Sedekamp jumped and bellowed.
"What, the second young master is back? Wait—we'll go inform the old steward and Eldest Miss Baisha..." The heads vanished from the castle battlements. After a long while, Lorist heard a short horn call from within, and then the drawbridge slowly lowered with a creak. The gate swung open, and out strode a female knight in chain-mail armor, a riding crop in hand, her long crimson hair flowing behind her.
The female knight gave Sedekamp, who stood respectfully to one side, a crack of the whip and laughed as she scolded.
Sedekamp bowed his head. "Thanks to Eldest Miss's blessings, we found the second young master and brought him home. Mission accomplished."
The female knight said, "You got lucky..."
She then turned to Pat. "Well, well—this trip has changed you so much I hardly recognize you. Now that's something."
Pat said nothing, merely nodding to the female knight.
She didn't mind. Stepping past Pat, she came before Lorist and stared straight at him. "The second young master?"
In Little Lok's memories, aside from his father, the most terrifying and annoying person had been that red-haired little girl. She fought with him over his brother, trailed behind his brother every single day, and when he had merely tugged on her crimson braid out of curiosity, he had received a sound beating...
Now the former red-haired little girl had grown up too, into a tall, strikingly handsome female knight with a bold and dashing bearing.
Lorist forced a grin. "S-Sister Baisha..."
Seeing that Little Lok still remembered the respectful address he had used as a child, the red-haired knight seemed reasonably pleased. "Not bad—Little Lok has grown into a man. You're so tall now. It's good that you're back. You must have endured quite a hardship on the journey. Go on inside—Old Steward Kreis is waiting for you."
Old Steward Kreis had truly grown old. Lorist remembered that when Little Lok left home, Kreis was already sixty-three. In the blink of an eye, ten years had passed, and the old steward had aged terribly—old wounds and injuries flared up so badly he could barely walk. But the foundation of his
Clutching Lorist's hand and refusing to let go, Old Steward Kreis was torn between joy and remorse. "Child, I don't know whether to be happy about your return or regret bringing you back. The Norton Family right now is a rotten ship about to fall apart. It's on the verge of sinking, and yet the people aboard are still arguing over who should steer. Dragging you aboard and making you captain of this wreck—that's a terrible burden to place on you."
Lorist smiled. "Grandfather Kreis, when the family is in trouble, it is the unshirkable duty and obligation of any Norton Family member to return and share its hardships. The Norton Family has weathered over two hundred years of Northland storms, and I will absolutely not let it continue to decline. Norton shall become a name that resounds across the entire continent."
Old Steward Kreis smiled with satisfaction. "Child, ambition is a fine thing, but everything must be taken step by step. Go eat and rest now. Tomorrow I'll arrange your inheritance ceremony. The family has been squabbling far too long—it's become downright shameful. With you at the helm, I believe everything will get better."
Lorist rose from the old steward's bedside, bowed his head in respect, and then followed Sedekamp and Pat toward the dining hall...