Published: January 4th 2025, 12:38:05 am
Whiteleaf Manor was three hours by foot from Farcrest. The old cobbled road turned east through a path between steep hills into the Farlands, went low into the valley, and climbed the western hill into the hamlet’s main building. The ruined manor, now overgrown by weeds and bramble, was located on the slope of the hill, dominating the small valley. Hidden among the wild plants were twelve oaks with white leaves.
The Marquis had given me a plot of land in the middle of the Farlands with no workers to develop the land or soldiers to protect the valley. I grinned. Of course, the Marquis believed he was getting back at me. He didn’t know Whiteleaf Manor was the perfect place to study Runeweaving.
I had grand plans for the place.
Risha pulled a machete and started cutting the army of brambles that had invaded the cobbled path. He was making good progress, but it would take a while.
I channeled my flying mana blade and mowed down the path.
“Showoff,” he grinned.
After a few minutes, we reached our destination.
My blades opened the path into the manor's facade, or what was left. Nature had regained its dominion. The windows were gone, and the masonry was cracked and ruined. Without a map, it seemed nearly impossible to find it. Whiteleaf Manor must’ve been built at the same time as the orphanage because they shared a similar style: two wings in a U-shape encompassing a spacious backyard.
“So, what’s the story of my new crib?” I asked as my mana blade mowed the front yard. I would not have hated doing the garden as a teenager if I had access to a mana blade.
Izabeka gave me a confused look.
“Two hundred people used to live here before the Forest Warden’s Monster Surge,” she said. “That was thirty years ago. Warden’s Roots overran this place, so the old marquis surrendered it. Farcrest was much smaller back then, and we didn’t have the manpower to clear them.”
I nodded. The roots of the Forest Warden were as hard as steel, and they were impossible to deal with without skills.
“You fought the Forest Warden in this valley,” I said.
“I don’t want to brag, but I did it on my own, unlike a certain Scholar who needed a whole squad of helpers,” Izabeka replied.
Thirty years ago, the Forest Warden’s Monster Surge didn’t produce a Warden’s Tree or a Warden’s true body. Still, Izabeka had fought an army of Saplings, Gloomstalkers, and living vines to make her way into the center of the root system and destroy the Warden’s Seed.
“I think we should rest a moment,” Lyra Jorn said, panting from the effort.
As much as I insisted this was a dangerous trip, Lyra couldn’t overlook the chance of recovering books from a library sealed thirty years ago—if any had survived the elements.
We reached the building's facade. I tested the keys, but the lock crumbled into orange dust. We pushed the old wooden gates to reveal a huge vestibule with six lateral doors and a double staircase on the opposite side. The building was bigger than the orphanage. It smelled like rotten plant matter.
“Let’s check if any monster decided to make the manor its lair,” I said.
We cleared the floor together. There were signs of animals using the manor as a hideout, but nothing bigger than a fox. A family of owls didn’t seem particularly happy with our presence. That was infinitely better than monstrous spiders.
Since the end of Lich’s Monster Surge, monsters were slowly returning to the valleys, so this was our best chance to create a defensive perimeter. The Marquis employed two hundred and fifty Sentinels to keep a buffer area between the city and the inner Farlands. Lyra Jorn estimated we would need at least seventy trained soldiers to keep an eye on the two paths that connected Whiteleaf Manor to the inner Farlands.
The Marquis didn’t know I had way more available forces.
I looked at the sky through a hole in the ceiling. It was almost noon.
The reinforcements must’ve been near.
Lyra Jorn examined the old map Abei had provided us.
“There should be a river down the road and an iron mine on the slope of the eastern mountain. Near the northern pass, there should be a peat deposit in the lowlands… and if I’m interpreting this smudge of ink correctly, there is also a coal mine around there,” Lyra said, her brow frowning as much as possible. “If you can get this place up and running, it has great potential.”
It was no secret why the Marquis hadn’t re-developed this land. The initial investment in clearing the Warden’s Roots and setting a security perimeter was enormous. Having an extra seventy Sentinels on the payroll plus all the combatants needed to clear the old Warden’s Roots would clash against the Marquis’ attempts to turn the city into a trade hub. The Marquis was more interested in developing the infrastructure and the area’s stability to allow a healthy flow of goods than regaining farmland and a few mines.
“This will also be a good place to test our prototypes,” Lyra added with a mischievous grin.
Lyra Jorn was set on turning Whiteleaf Manor into the most technologically advanced settlement in the kingdom. Her intentions weren't totally pure, though. During our welcome party, after one and a half glasses of cider, she revealed that her ambitions weren’t only aimed at helping the Jorn settlements in the north but to spite the Scholars of the Imperial Library.
“What do you think, Risha?” Lyra said, showing Risha the map.
The half-orc leaned over the girl’s shoulder. The difference in size was comical.
“It looks like a smudge, but that clearly says coal,” Risha said.
In the month I’ve been out in the Farlands, Lyra had integrated into the orphanage without much trouble. Despite the difference in social class, Mister Lowell had prepared his students to rub shoulders with the nobility. Not only did Risha know how to read and write, but he also had a handle on sciences, art, and economics. In a sense, Mister Lowell had been a lot more ambitious than Elincia and me.
To the kid’s dismay, we expanded the orphanage’s syllabus. The children now had three morning lessons and practical training in the afternoons. The morning lessons usually covered arithmetic, history, natural sciences, and crafts. Ginz quickly became the kids’ favorite ‘morning teacher’ because his class was the least boring. In the afternoons, they learned fencing, riding, and survival techniques.
We didn’t have enough money to buy a horse, but Lyra Jorn had convinced her father to leave her one of their mountain horses. Lord Jorn couldn’t say no to her daughter. The horse had a gentle temperament and was great with kids as long as Loki remained inside the manor.
Lyra had accepted the fact we kept a Changeling as a pet surprisingly fast. Astrid, on the other hand, was still unnerved by the creature. It didn’t help that Loki, from time to time, adopted the appearance of Astrid’s younger self.
Once cleared, we exited the manor, and Risha lit a fire to prepare lunch.
“I was the best cook back in the army,” Risha said. “You’d be surprised what I can achieve with two stones and a bit of barley.”
Lyra Jorn looked at the pot worriedly, but Risha didn’t use rocks or barley. Prince Adrien had given us a few hundred gold pieces to keep the orphanage going for a year. His advisors almost had an aneurysm pulling so much gold from the coffers, but we were set regarding our food supply for the foreseeable future.
Risha pulled salted meat, orcish rice, spices, and fresh vegetables and prepared an exquisite stew. He might as well be the best cook in the army.
After lunch, Izabeka and Lyra entered the manor to scavenge for books and valuables.
“I guess it’s time to do some garden work,” I said, rubbing my hands.
Risha gave me a curious look.
“When you reach a certain age, garden work becomes a pleasure,” I pointed out.
Using [Mana Mastery] was like stretching my legs after a day in front of the desk. I channeled a two-meter-long mana blade and made it spin like a lawnmower. Careful not to damage the White Oaks, I cut down the weeds and bramble surrounding the manor. Risha looked from the side, examining an old outline of the manor’s grounds and warning me to avoid cutting important landmarks. We uncovered an old well, the barn's foundations, the stables, and what was left of the mill. We also found a spacious cellar, a bakehouse, and a brewery. After thirty years, there were few usable remains besides the well and the foundations.
After an hour, the manor grounds were mostly cleared. Using a bit of [Aerokinesis] and [Mana Mastery], I gathered the plant material in big piles, and the place started to look better.
“A Prestige Class doing lawn work? Now I’ve seen everything,” Lyra Jorn said.
Risha and Izabeka laughed.
I cleared the path down the hill into the old hamlet and used my [Geokinesis] to patch the cobbled road. The original builders had done a great job, as the path remained almost intact. The hamlet, not so much. Besides the stone mill by the riverside, no building had survived the Warden’s Monster Surge. The root system had destroyed even the roads.
Even thirty years later, the roots remained solid as steel.
My blades crackled with mana as I went down to business.
Behind me, over a slope, Lyra examined her map and guided me through the areas that needed to be cleared first. I ignored what kind of education she had forced herself to go through, but she had formulated an urbanization plan to maximize efficiency in record time.
First, I cleared a square of twenty meters on each side and flattened the terrain with an old well in the center. That would be the only landmark of the old hamlet we would reuse. The residential buildings would go on the western side, closer to the river and the manor. There would be a new path that connected the hamlet directly to the main road, skipping the manor altogether. The farmlands would be down the east to take advantage of the soft slope to improve irrigation.
I worked all afternoon under Lyra’s watchful eye. Izabeka gathered the pieces of the Warden’s Roots on the center square. When I tried to cut a thick root into a plank, the root shattered and crumbled like sandstone. I hoped Ginz would find a use for them because otherwise, it would be hard to discard them. Meanwhile, Risha chopped firewood from the dead trees I cut down.
We cleared a livable area in a few hours. Who would’ve thought that three high-level warriors made an excellent gardening team?
When the sun was about to set, a small sparrow made out of blue mana landed on my head.
“Our guests are here,” I announced.
Half an hour later, Wolf and Ilya appeared from the recently cleared road, followed by a retinue of almost a hundred orcs. Wolf seemed glad to see us, but the gnome girl had dark circles around her eyes and a pissed expression.
“Are these the volunteers?” I asked.
Wolf nodded.
“The first wave. I have two hundred more in wait. Many others will follow when they see what we are doing.”
After the Umolo incident, most of the Teal Moon orcs decided to stick to the old semi-nomadic lifestyle traditions. The orcs from the free tribes didn’t show such reluctance, as their traditions differed. Some tribes were so small and controlled tiny territories that they lacked the resources to maintain several mobile outposts.
Lyra Jorn guided the orcs into the residential area and instructed them to set up the tents. Her [Insufferable] title started to show, but I understood her. Lyra Jorn might be a self-made genius. She pushed herself to perfection more than anyone else, hence the unflattering title.
“How are things going with the tribe?” I asked, leaving Lyra to fend on her own.
Wolf shrugged.
“Smooth. I appointed two more chieftains to manage the newcomers. Five is our lucky number, so the elders are happy,” he sighed. “Chieftain Dassyra and Chieftain Oro are doing most of the work. After Umolo, they are open to change, so they accept whatever I tell them, but I don’t know how long it will be until their goodwill runs out.”
Ilya rolled her eyes.
“He’s being dramatic,” she said. “Kara has been helping arrange more marriages. Wolf is getting rid of Callaid men in exchange for farmers and laborers. These hundred greenskins? All of Wolf’s people now. Everyone wants to be under the Warchief’s command.”
Exchanging soldiers for farmers was a dangerous move. Each Chieftain had as many warriors as they had laborers in their ranks. One of the most important pillars of orc society was the balance between the Warchief and the Chieftains.
“Do you want to stop being Warchief?” I asked.
“They won’t let me,” Wolf replied. “The Monster Surges are becoming more frequent, so we are their only path to survival.”
Ilya rolled her eyes yet again.
“Wolf is being a drama queen. The orcs love him. Wolf could force them to change the teal moon for a flashy pink chicken, and they would cackle happily.”
Wolf massaged his temples, embarrassed.
“We should bring another hundred orcs as soon as possible,” Ilya said. “With so many marriages, everyone is making babies. You don’t know how hard it is to sleep in the Teal Moon camp at night. In nine months, this place will be overrun with little green snots.”
Wolf didn’t seem especially happy with the tribe growing so fast.
“I will go help Lyra,” Wolf said, ending the conversation.
The orcs weren’t happy with Lyra telling them how to install the tents.
“That was interesting,” Ilya said as soon as Wolf was out of earshot. “He acted all high and mighty while we dealt with the orcs. Only when you appeared Wolf showed his doubts. He trusts you.”
I felt flattered.
“What about you? Have you thought about what you want to do going forward?” I asked.
Ilya crossed her arms, pensive.
“I was thinking of applying to the Sentinels,” she replied. “I’m a bit below the required level, but Captain Kiln… Lady Izabeka promised to put a good word on me with Lord Alton. She says I’m on the same footing as recruits, and my skills are extremely useful for the job.”
Joining the Sentinels wasn’t a bad option. It was an honorable endeavor, and I couldn’t help but feel very proud of Ilya’s decision.
“If you need time to decide…”
“I’m fifteen. I don’t want to be a burden for the orphanage.”
I raised my hands in surrender.
“You’re the opposite of a burden, but if that’s what you want to do, go for it. Lord Alton would be lucky to have you in his lines.”
Ilya was pleased with my words.
“I will think about it,” she said with a mischievous smile. “I heard you need hands around the orphanage. Word is the Governess and the Caretaker will be very busy going on dates and picnics from now on.”
I was about to open my mouth, but Lyra called my name. Another plot of land needed to be cleared before the end of the day. Sighing, I channeled my mana blade and started cutting the roots. Neither my noble title nor my Prestige Class could save me from work. Still, I smiled. Life was good.
Ilya called my name.
“If you want to take my older sister on a date, you have my permission!”
***
With the first light of the day, we returned to Farcrest. Making Whiteleaf Manor habitable was an entertaining project, but awakening by Elincia’s side was even better. The orphanage was busy with the influx of new orphans, but for the first time in years, the orphanage had enough hands to deal with everything.
I couldn’t erase the smile from my face.
As soon as I arrived at the orphanage, I was taking Elincia on a date.
The guardsmen greeted us when we crossed the city gates. We were a picturesque bunch—a noble-born lady, the ex-captain of the Guard, a high-level army veteran, the Teal Moon Warchief, a Prestige Class, and a gnome. Nobody questioned our presence in the city.
When we reached the orphanage, we found Corin sitting at the entrance.
“I got a message for you, Mister Clarke. Urgent mail,” she said, pulling a fat envelope from her bag.
I looked at the envelope with curiosity. Lately, I’ve been getting a lot of mail—invitations for dinner and tax-related matters—but nothing as bulky as that.
I noticed the royal crest.
I wasn’t expecting a message from Prince Adrien.
“Let’s go inside. I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” I said, but I couldn’t help but feel worried. Royal envelopes weren’t a thing I could just ignore, like the pleas of other low-level nobles wanting to have brunch with me. I had little desire to deal with more intrigue.
Elincia was in the kitchen, stirring a pot of fruit for preserves. Over her green dress, she wore a beige apron stained with fruit juice. She wore a high ponytail, and her brow was covered in sweat. Despite the open window, the kitchen was very hot.
She instantly detected my worried expression.
“What happened, my love?”
I showed her the envelope.
“Open it.”
I summoned a mana dagger and broke the seal. Inside were four smaller envelopes with the same royal seal and a short letter addressed to me. I grabbed the letter.
Mud to Iron, Robert Clarke. Mud to Iron.
-Prince Adrien.
The four letters were addressed to Zaon, Ilya, Wolf, and Firana.
Elincia dropped the ladle and took off her apron.
“No way…” she muttered, squeezing my arm.
Ilya grabbed her letter and opened it with shaky hands.
“What in the everloving System?” Ilya muttered as her eyes darted through the lines. “I-I guess I’m an Imperial Cadet now?”