Blue Advisory! (8)

After confirming that Rebecca and the others had departed, I went to find Wijel.

I had already set various goals with Wijel and gathered information on the nearest fiefs, and I learned that many of them had been quite well-off—thanks to beastkin who brought in high-quality medicinal herbs and hides.

But I also heard that circumstances had begun to tilt ever since I took office.

From the viewpoint of the neighboring lords, I could only appear to be a thorn in the eye.

They were only holding their tongues because they belonged to the imperial-loyalist faction and couldn’t risk speaking harshly.

This was information I got through Rebecca and the others; the price, as ever, was the “Physical-Ability Boosting Potions” the knights went crazy for.

Listening to Rebecca, I happened to learn about their family, and interestingly the two sisters were not nobles.

Most of the imperial guard orders were filled with nobles—early education and early academy life let them build skill quickly and shine, so noble-born often drew imperial pay.

But the unusually gifted sisters Rebecca and Aenia were among the few commoners who had become knights of the imperial orders.

In trying not to make mistakes about noble matters, they had studied them inside out; thanks to that, I was able to profit from the information.

Grateful in many ways, I paid with potions—but even as I offered plenty, Rebecca modestly took only part, asking me to look after her younger sister.

“It’s good the sisters get along…”

Aenia, the other knights who had come with her—everyone had already received more than enough from me. I heard that once their obligated escort period ended, they wanted to leave the imperial orders and come to our fief; for now, I put that on hold.

It was nice to have capable knights, but in pure combat power they still couldn’t properly handle even a single Sain tribesman.

“If they reach the point of being useful against humans later… there’s no rush.”

What their skill would look like a year from now was the key, but it wasn’t urgent, so I left it be.

Back to the main point: I estimated the roadwork would take about a month. Because I needed to go on an expedition, I needed someone to handle things here—yet no one seemed a perfect fit.

I could have asked Vincent, but he was busy with the butler’s work; he was also training the attendants I’d requested, so I couldn’t overburden him. I decided to work two weeks, return briefly, then head back out to the site.

It was little better than a desperate measure, but if we just opened the road, we could achieve much—so I decided we had to do it, even by force.

“Alright—shall we get moving too?”

At my words, most of the Sain Tribe, including Wijel, set out with me. My safety mattered, but we also needed the strong power of the Sain Tribe and the bear beastkin.

The Sain Tribe were slated to range around and clear monsters or animals that could harm humans; the bear beastkin would help me by removing trees and cumbersome rocks.

The site leads were basically Wijel and Debik.

As we moved with them, many beastkin took an interest and followed. I thought this would be a problem, but…

“I tell them, and they still won’t listen…”

I couldn’t understand why they trailed after me everywhere; watching them, Wijel chuckled and praised me as having “mighty charisma,” nearly embarrassing me to death.

In any case, the road-opening toward the neighboring fiefs had begun.

There were four nearby fiefs—two viscountcies and two baronies. Beyond those lay a frontier count who guarded the border; I’d heard he cared little for politics and focused on the front against the Demon God.

He was said to be a fairly young noble—and, in common parlance, a “Master.” I didn’t actually know what “Master” meant.

I remembered Muriel being called a Master too; if so, were Masters common? It was ironic.

“Wijel, are those called ‘Masters’ strong?”

“Extremely strong.”

“Stronger than you?”

“Unless I undergo beastkin transformation, I would not be able to win.”

So if he transformed, he could win. Wijel was very strong; Debik, I’d heard, was also very strong.

Few beastkin were strong enough to warrant the adverb “very,” but such people, I realized, might be able to face a Master—that was a surprising bit of info, and it made me want to know exactly what a Master was.

I had no intention of forcing wider connections, but since they might be trading partners later, it seemed useful to learn.

For now, imagining a well-laid road on the section the bear beastkin had cleared, I immediately used Construction.

I planned to start the road from the front of the lord’s manor.

The manor sat slightly to the north within Ingrad, near the Forest of the Demon Dragon; because of the beastkin, I intended to set the domain’s center near the manor.

With the lord’s castle here, it wasn’t a bad position for my own security; the question was whether beastkin would settle along the arterial road.

“Nothing beats having beastkin inhabit a road for safety patrols… If it comes to it, do I force it by order?”

I again regretted not accepting the goddess’s blessing when I had faced her. I newly realized how powerful it would be to have words that could not be refused.

As I made an 8-meter-wide road, a thought struck me.

“Are there monsters that climb walls well?”

“There are—but they don’t exist here in Ingrad. Only in the Forest’s central zones.”

“Mm… Right. How high can an ogre jump?”

“Perhaps about twice its own height.”

Given ogres were on average 3–4 meters tall, I recalculated after some thought.

“If I told the beastkin to guard the road, would they stay?”

“They would agree to patrols, but if you ordered them to reside, none would come.”

Then I had to change the method. What I considered was an elevated road.

To try what I had in mind, I used Construction for an estimate. I pictured the shape I wanted and set the height—about ten meters, based on ogres’ height, bulk, and abilities—then used Construction to lift the current ground-level road into the air.

Mana and magical power drained fast. The expenditure was substantial, but manageable. And…

“The view alone will be superb…”

I placed supporting pillars every 20 meters to hold up the superstructure. Compared to raising thick outer walls, this was less taxing; the experience of building walls proved helpful. Critically, assuming I took up to seven of my mana-recovery potions, I judged I could keep to schedule without major delays.

“Your lordship’s ability is truly extraordinary. How can one build such a structure… As expected, the divine messenger is different.”

The “divine messenger” line grated, but praise was praise, and I accepted it gladly.

I did not yet know this decision would become the signal flare of the Terakan Empire’s famed ‘Sky Domain.’

The first week went smoothly. How to put it—

Not a single “incident”; a dry routine. My entire day was building the bridge while eating bibimbap packed with mana-recovery herbs, sipping mana-helpful liquor with the meal, and taking mana-recovery potions.

Progress was faster than imagined—thanks to the liquor aiding recovery.

“If anyone knew I was drinking on the job… they’d faint.”

On Earth I’d certainly be violating the law and get punished. I wouldn’t have gotten permits either.

I lacked basic construction education and theory; I was just doing what I could within the bounds my Construction aptitude showed me—if someone called it illegal work, I’d have no rebuttal.

“Magnificent today as well.”

Whenever Wijel watched me work, he said that. It wasn’t gaslighting, so why did he keep doing this? I had no idea.

Anyway, seeing I could probably shorten construction by about a week, I felt it would be a waste to run this bridge as-is.

“Wijel, how about we set up ‘rest spots’—wayside stations—at intervals along the bridge?”

“That would be good. They could rest with the feeling of being in the air.”

“Right?”

Smiling, I costed the idea that had just come to me. Much like building the bridge, I imagined a space roughly 100 by 100 meters—but it glowed red.

“Hmm… too big at once?”

So I reduced in tens—90×90, 80×80… At 60×60 I saw a green marker. After a moment’s thought, I used Construction and raised the platform; the beastkin peered curiously at this sudden structure next to the bridge.

“With a space like this, we can’t put many buildings, can we?”

“If it is as you say—purely for rest—we’d need two to three times this area.”

At that point all my magic was wrung dry; even a hair didn’t want to move. Two to three times? I needed a different approach.

Still, once I set my mind, I did it. I decided to delay the main work by a day and focus here today.

Then, alternating mana-recovery potions and liquor, I expanded the pad as recovery allowed and raised several simple buildings—throwing myself into the job.

As the stopover took shape, everyone watched in fascination, and Wijel said to me:

“If you would raise a shrine honoring the goddess Artemisia… some beastkin might choose to live here.”

“A shrine… a shrine…”

Thinking of what religion meant to people, I nodded and said to Wijel:

“You gather residents; I’ll build the shrine. How about it?”

“All beastkin will marvel to see the divine messenger honor the goddess.”

That “divine messenger” again… apparently determined to make my ears bleed.