Published: April 1st 2025, 4:55:53 pm
“I’m sick of this place,” Elincia said. “Half of the city knows how to read thanks to Mister Lowell. He brought Blacksmiths, Craftsmen, Herbalists, Scholars, artists, and musicians from across the kingdom to teach workshops. You would expect some gratitude, but everyone turned their backs on the orphanage when we needed them the most.”
Elincia leaned on my shoulder.
“Are you sure? If you don’t want to do it, I don’t want to force you,” I said.
“I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. Half of the Alchemists Guild was Mister Lowell’s students… and now they want me to take their children as apprentices, as if they hadn’t made my life impossible not a year ago,” she said, her anger growing with each word.
“They didn’t treat us pretty well the last time,” I pointed out.
“Ongo almost dropped you out cold,” Elincia laughed.
“If you think about it, Ongo is the only person in Farcrest who has defeated me fair and square,” I replied. After seeing the true strength of orcs and half-orcs, I realized Ongo had gone soft on me. I was a Lv.10 Scholar back then.
The anger in Elincia’s heart would take years to heal, if it ever would.
“Maybe it was all my fault,” Elincia said. “The community Mister Lowell had created crumbled quickly after he died. Maybe I could've kept it together if I had learned more about him. I was so young.”
“You had a better sense of fashion back then, though,” I said, using [Mirage] to summon the picture of a more juvenile Elincia dressed in a black jacket and heavy eyeliner.
“Stop it!” Elincia squeaked, pushing me out the bench.
I fell on the grass, but the illusion didn’t quiver. Then, Elincia siphoned and tugged at my mana, trying to make me lose control of the skill, but my mana control had skyrocketed since the Lich’s Monster Surge.
“I’m being serious, Robert Clarke. If you don’t dispel that monstrosity at this very moment, you will sleep in the shed.” Elincia pounced on me and poked my ribs with her fingers.
Only after I obeyed did she stop nudging me. No amount of poking, jabbing, and elbowing was going to convince me Elincia wasn’t stylish back then. With a sigh, Elincia rested her head on my chest.
“We should go,” she said.
“It might not work,” I replied.
Elincia rolled her eyes.
“I’ll be clear. If I have to stay one more second in this System-forsaken city, I will take Astrid’s gun, and I will shoot the Marquis,” Elincia said, and I knew she was talking seriously.
Before I could say anything, the orphanage’s door slammed open, and Shu jumped into the backyard.
“They are playing rough!” the little harpy yelled, running full speed—which wasn’t much—toward us. When she was close enough, she jumped into the pile, arms and wings open. The little ones joined shortly after.
Elincia was right. We couldn’t stay at Farcrest. I closed my eyes, deep in thought despite the screeches from the kids. Maybe life in the country would help her heal her old wounds. I knew it would help me enchant without fear of spies behind every window.
*
Daylight was burning.
I grabbed Lyra’s horse, a stout black mare with white socks that didn’t particularly like me. Animals were very perceptive to mana, and even with my near-perfect mana control, many of them got skittish when I was nearby. On the bright side, the rats had stopped running across the attic during the night. Lyra’s horse was trained to remain calm. Selene Jorn was probably even more unnerving than me.
“Let’s go, Dame, we have work to do,” I said, offering her a thick carrot.
The mare deemed my offering as sufficient.
Dame trotted down the cobbled path, avoiding the puddles of stagnant water, the smelly alleys, and the drunkards sleeping on the porches. I stifled a laugh. Dame and Lyra weren’t all that different. None of them were used to life in a place like Farcrest, although both did their best to go along. Lyra still had a small heart attack every time the orphans touched her with dirty hands.
When I entered the main street, the market seemed to freeze for a split second. Farcrest didn’t know what to do with me. On the one hand, I killed Janus, their shining star, the only commoner who rose to become an Imperial Knight. On the other hand, the news about how I single-handedly stopped the Monster Surge was starting to spread to the common population. I was a Sage and a thane, yet I dressed like a commoner. The Marquis didn’t like me, but Captain Kiln abandoned the City Guard to teach at my orphanage. I was a puzzle wrapped in an enigma—and I would rather keep it that way.
Dame noted the glances upon us and puffed her chest, standing tall and proud.
The guardsmen bowed when I reached the inner gate.
“I want to meet the prince,” I said.
Before, they would’ve guided me through one of the lateral doors, but now, they opened the main gates for me. Most of the royal army had left the city shortly after the Monster Surge was stopped, but Prince Adrien remained at the Great Hall, probably resting from the politics and intrigue. Only the royal soldiers and a handful of nobles remained in the city.
The weather improved quickly, and spring had already settled over the valley. Prince Adrien was surrounded by retinue, sipping wine on the balcony that oversaw the gardens. The tournament arena had disappeared, and the bushes and flowerbeds had returned to their original places.
“Thane of Farcrest, Robert Clarke,” an aide announced my arrival.
The courtiers performed gracious bows. Lord Tirno and the other baronets acknowledged my presence and bowed their heads despite the difference in rank. Thane, after all, wasn’t blood nobility. Only the new Captain of the Guard, a young man, son of one of the Farcrest nobles, ignored me, and with good reason. The City Guard’s loyalty was still split between Izabeka and the new Captain.
With Janus and Kellaren’s deaths, the Osgirians lost influence in the area, and their plans to hijack the trade routes were set several years behind. As a result, they had lost prestige before the other ducal houses. Prince Adrien didn’t know the whole story, though. I had kept to myself that the Marquis had been playing both sides since the beginning. The Prince suspected I wasn’t revealing all the information, but the victory had been so good for the royalist faction that he had let me roll with it.
“If it isn’t Robert Clarke in the flesh,” Prince Adrien said. He was in a great mood, which wasn’t unexpected with the recent events. “Where have you gotten yourself into? I've been missing someone to have a real conversation with.”
Prince Adrien’s words were like a slap in the face to the courtiers.
“I’ve been busy managing my estate. I have an iron mine to put into operation before the end of the year,” I replied with a bow.
Prince Adrien grinned.
“If you don’t get enough workers, you’ll have to mine the iron yourself.”
“I fear the same. For that reason, I’d like to reside closer to Whiteleaf Valley,” I said.
“You are leaving the orphanage?”
My agreement with Prince Adrien remained in effect: raising orphans to meet the Imperial Cadet standard—with the provision they had to decide if they wanted to attend the Imperial Knights Academy themselves. Secrecy was paramount. If the dukedoms realized there was a method to guarantee good results, they’d be breathing over my neck again. I would rather go unnoticed for the next decade.
“Teaching is my call. I’m planning to take the orphanage with me,” I replied.
The courtiers whispered. The news that I was leaving Farcrest would soon spread like gunpowder. At least the Marquis would be happy.
Prince Adrien gave me a quizzical look.
“I would like to ask for a favor. I’m planning a project, but I will need help to complete it,” I said.
The courtiers exchanged mocking grins. Asking for a royal favor was a tall request—probably taller than my Class and title altogether. However, their expressions were wiped when Prince Adrien left his glass cup aside.
“A project?”
“I will bet my title that your highness will find it extremely amusing.”
Prince Adrien scratched his chin. His voice came out arrogant, almost challenging.
“I don’t know if you can do anything that amuses me, Robert Clarke. Before becoming the heir, I traveled through five kingdoms. I’ve seen things, places most people can’t even imagine. Are you sure you want to make that bet?”
I smiled and performed a deep bow.
“I think it’s better to discuss the details privately.”
A moment later, an illusion floated in the middle of the throne room—a 17th-century house on rollers across a British street. Prince Adrien was undoubtedly amused. I had only a handful of examples to show: Victorian houses being pulled by horses, Amish moving barns by hand, and inhabitants of the isle of Chiloé moving wooden houses and churches using oxen and logs, and even boats sometimes. Prince Adrien laughed like a kid when she saw a chilote house floating over the Chacao Channel.
“I want to take Lowell Manor to my estate following the old market in the north and then the road all the way to Whiteleaf Valley,” I finally said.
“Is it possible?” Prince Adrien asked. “The manor is considerably larger than the buildings you showed us.”
Of course, I hadn’t shown them most of the building moves from the twentieth century. I wasn’t sure how they would react to a twelve-floor hulk of brick and concrete that looked more like a house than a fort. Even the Great Hall was no taller than five stories, with the Scholar Tower reaching only a bit higher.
“I believe it’s possible, but I will need every Geomancer and Fortifier in the royal army,” I said.
“It seems a waste of manpower,” the Marquis said.
“Don’t you see it, Tauron? The city will talk about this for years to come. They will tell their children and grandchildren how the Marquis and the royal army moved a manor across the city. Do you think they will remember when you closed a juicy deal for iron or copper? Stories like this will imprint your resourcefulness in the people's minds.”
“Will it succeed, though?” the Marquis asked.
“Will it, Robert?”
“Absolutely, your highness. You will see the manor passing over the outer wall by the end of the week,” I said.
The Marquis wasn’t as amused, but I had the receipts of all the skeletons in his closet, so he backed up the operation nonetheless.
*
I sent Risha and Lyra to USS Enterprise Valley to prepare the arrival site. Meanwhile, I hunched over my desk, scribbling calculations and checking the map of Farcrest. There was only one possible route for the manor to fit and satisfy Prince Adrien’s need to put on a show at the same time: the old market, a wide six-lane street that went straight into the outer wall. Reaching the old market was easy. The street outside the manor was wide enough to fit the building and went straight into the old market.
There was a massive problem.
Distance.
The manor street hit the old market too close to the wall, and, according to my calculations, I needed at least a two-hundred-meter ramp to bring the manor over the wall. Even if the ramp started outside the manor, I would be short a few dozen meters. Increasing the ramp's angle was an option, but that would put a tremendous strain on the Geomancers.
We had to preserve our strength, especially when my [Minor Geomancy] seemed to cap the amount of mana I could pour into the skill. I preferred to be conservative with my calculations.
I used [Mirage] to project a 3D model of the city.
Elincia spied my work over my shoulder.
“Trouble in Scholarland?”
I summoned the ramp as I envisioned it. The intersection between the manor’s street and the old market was a few meters above ground level. A detour would be impossible because the roads narrowed as one advanced in the opposite direction.
Elincia nodded.
“What if we cut the grove and move the manor through that side?”
“The street is too narrow.”
Elincia used her mana to draw over my 3D map.
“Not if we cut the eastern wing,” she grinned. “We can come back for it later… or never. Do we even need Ginz’s workshop?”
“You are a big meanie, you know that?” I asked.
“Thanks for noticing,” Elincia said.
I leaned over the projection and cut the eastern wing from the manor. The gap would be minuscule, but it should work and give us enough distance between the starting point and the wall. Now, I just needed to move hundreds of cubic meters of stone to create the ramp.
“I’m going to need a couple of Energy Potions and a crate of Mana Potions,” I sighed.
“I have your back, darling,” Elincia replied, kissing my head.
The next day, I met with the royal Geomancers—three squads of ten Geomancers each, all dressed in black robes with yellow hems. Hufflepuffs, probably. The veterans were Lv.40 Geomancers, while the youngest recruits were around Lv.25. Two were Imperial Knights, and one was an Archivist of the Imperial Library. None seemed particularly excited about the project, and after the introductions, they jumped into the blueprints.
The next part was anticlimactic. The Geomancer squads worked like clockwork, pushing the cobbled paths to the side and raising the bedrock from the depths to slowly form the ramp.
The Archivist, one of the most talkative Geomancers, told me they had been creating layers of walls along the flanks of the royal army for the past eight years. It was impossible to stop the migration of monsters completely, but the walled sections ‘herded’ them parallel to the path they were trying to open. It would take decades for the monsters to get used to the new environment.
The Geomancers refused my help. They called [Minor Geokinesis] ‘dumb geokinesis’ because I couldn’t shape rock, only move it. They explained that to prevent the ground from collapsing due to the lack of material, they had to extract the rock, leaving small underground arches. The Scholars and Geomancers of the Imperial Library had made all the calculations for the safe usage of the skill.
The first day, the Geomancers built almost seventy meters of ramp, although I knew the progress would slow down because the higher parts required increasingly more material. Elincia’s potions helped to maximize the workflow.
While the Geomancers built the ramp, Craftsmen and Fortifiers prepared the roller pins over which the manor would move. The trick was to spread the weight of the building over several pins to prevent fractures. The Fortifiers ensured me that not even a Stone Golem could break the pins after their weave of spells.
The third group, the Geomancers and Fortifiers from Farcrest, prepared the stone bed where the manor would rest during the trip. We carved a hole around the manor, and we cut a slab of stone using Geomancy. The Fortifiers used their skills on the slab and the manor, so any damage due to the movement and weird angles would be minimal. We roped the manor to the slab with fortified ropes just in case.
It was a shame I couldn’t use my enchantments, but I wouldn’t use Runeweaving with that many experienced magicians around me.
I expected Elincia to be sad, but she was more excited than anything. Ginz was pissed because acquiring raw materials from USS Enterprise Valley would be a hassle and a half. Astrid was gloomy, so I had her tagging to keep her busy. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she silently thanked me.
By the seventh day, the preparations were ready. The whole city gathered around the ramp to see the show. Thousands of people waited for the manor to appear around the corner. I tried to talk with Prince Adrien about having a security perimeter in case things went south, but he dismissed my concerns, saying that Imperial Library Geomancers wouldn’t fail.
I expected an OSHA inspector to appear across a portal at any time, but luckily, it didn’t happen.
The manor moved slowly up the ramp. The fortified pins turned without even creaking. The royal Geomancers pushed the stone slab under the manor. The hundred strongest soldiers pulled with fortified ropes. Farcrest Geomancers created stone wedges attached to the ramp to prevent the manor from rolling back.
My heart beat like a burst until I noticed the ease with which the crew was maneuvering. Nobody broke a sweat. The effort was perfectly coordinated. Then, my worries disappeared leaving space to sheer awe.
Elincia squeezed my hand.
The manor reached the top of the wall in an hour and a half.
The dropping ramp was steeper, but with the combined strength of the Geomancers and the soldiers, the manor was returned to ground level without complications. The crowd cheered like something really special had just happened. Even the Geomancers seemed satisfied with the performance. Maybe Prince Adrien was right. Events weren’t as important as the stories we told about them.
Then, the slow and boring trip to the north started.