CHAPTER 44: THINKING ABOUT THE FUTURE

While Arthur was busy planning, the builders had already begun their work. Although only a few hours had passed, they had demolished the old walls and laid the foundations for new ones. Their work pace was fast—thanks to their sheer numbers, they resembled diligent ants.

Arthur gathered the designs he had drawn, looked at the builders for a few minutes, then suddenly frowned, a hint of discomfort flickering across his face.

Octavia noticed and asked politely, "Is something wrong, my lord?"

He shook his head oddly. "No, it’s... something else. Not worth thinking about right now."

"I see," she replied, though in truth, she didn’t understand what he meant. Still, she knew well enough that he was likely mulling over some strange idea again.

She wasn’t wrong. The short time Arthur had spent observing the builders was enough to reveal multiple issues—foremost among them, the complete lack of safety measures. The second issue was the poor quality of materials. The stone foundations and walls were being constructed using unevenly shaped rocks, bound together with a basic mortar made from clay, sand, and plant fibers.

There existed a better type of mortar—lime mortar—with far superior quality. But Arthur had no plans to use it for three reasons. The first was time: lime mortar was more complex to prepare and required longer curing, which meant more money spent. The second reason: he had other plans, and this workshop wasn’t particularly important to him, it could easily be discarded.

But the main reason was the goblin army attack that would take place two months from now. In the novel, it was said the city was devastated and most of its buildings destroyed in the fierce and brutal assault. Simply put, he didn’t want to waste much effort on something that would likely be reduced to rubble. Everything he was doing now was just experimentation, to identify potential problems, possible solutions, and future improvements.

After a brief silence, he stood up calmly and gestured to Octavia. "Let’s take a tour of the area."

"As you command, my lord."

As they walked through the city, Arthur observed everything with curiosity, unlike his first tour, which was just to see the general layout. This time, he analyzed the design of every building and mentally drafted improvements, even noting where a sewage system might pass in the future.

After several minutes, a strange smile crept onto his face, followed by a quiet chuckle.

’What am I even doing? There’s no point improving a place that’s going to be destroyed. Not to mention, this place is a wreck anyway. Building a new city from scratch would probably take less time and money.’

What started as a sarcastic thought suddenly froze his entire body.

He stood in place, stunned. His escorts looked at him in confusion as he muttered aloud, almost unintentionally:

"This is actually... a genius idea."

’For now, I’ll focus on income-generating projects. And after the coming disaster, I’ll build a new city—with all the luxuries of the modern world. I think I even know the perfect location. Yes... it’s ideal.’

Unbothered by the doubtful stares of his followers, Arthur laughed again—this time louder. His body trembled with excitement. He couldn’t wait to see the kind of city he’d build.

Originally, Arthur didn’t even know why he was bothering to improve this desolate land. After killing the Baronet, he could’ve fled anywhere, especially with the magical artifact ensuring his safety. Yet he hadn’t left—not because he loved the place, but for a deeper reason:

He couldn’t bring himself to abandon the people who supported him.

He didn’t want to leave them to the real Arvan—the man who would ruin them and get them killed.

"That’s enough sightseeing. Let’s return to the castle."

None of his companions understood what had just happened, or what their lord had been thinking. But they returned to the castle, all of them wondering the same thing:

Why is our lord acting so strangely?

The only one who didn’t seem concerned was Octavia. Unlike the rest, she felt a sense of excitement and curiosity—eager to see more of her lord’s ideas.

...

After returning to the castle, Arthur had lunch. Then he went to his room and drew some additional schematics. He had initially planned to build a primitive sewage system and gradually improve it, hoping to solve the sanitation and foul odor problems plaguing the area. But after his new decision, he abandoned that plan.

Instead, he decided to construct a number of temporary public toilets and issue strict hygiene laws.

Though he wasn’t planning to build many projects at the moment, he used his free time to sketch out necessary plans and write down a few new laws he could eventually apply to his people.

Once he finished, he exhaled a long breath and gathered all the scrolls, storing them with the designs he had drawn that morning.

"There are so many problems I have to deal with. But the real issue is... I’m doing everything alone. The administration system is a mess—or more accurately, non-existent."

He sighed deeply again and thought, ’I need to find some promising talents.’

As he was lost in thought, a soft knock came at the door, followed by Octavia’s voice:

"My lord, Alvin reports that he has gathered all the literate people in the city, as you instructed."

"Right on time."

Arthur stood, quickly adjusted his clothes, and made his way to the main hall.

Without care or ceremony, he walked into the hall, where about fifty people awaited him, and sat on his simple throne.

With cold eyes, he scanned them all—examining their clothing, appearances, and ages. As expected, most were adults from well-off families. Their clothes were clean and in good condition, and they looked healthy. Only a few were from the poor class. One man, in particular, caught Arthur’s eye—he wore ragged, torn clothes like a beggar.

Arthur’s gaze lingered on this man for a moment. Then he realized—it was the same person he had previously ordered flogged.

’What a coincidence. I bet this man thinks today’s one of the worst days of his life. I’ll make it worse.’

His mood soured just remembering the scene. To stay calm, he composed himself.

After a short pause, he spoke:

"Those of you who can write proficiently and read with ease—raise your hands."

Everyone in the hall raised their hands without hesitation.

"Which of you can compose poetry and write stories?"

About half the people lowered their hands in embarrassment, bowing their heads. The ability to compose poetry or stories was a mark of high literary education.

"Which of you are skilled in mathematics—creating tables, organizing numbers?"

A few more people lowered their hands.

Arthur narrowed his eyes. "I’m not talking about basic math—I mean large numbers and complex concepts. If you’re not confident in your skills, lower your hands. This is no game."

His stern words had an immediate effect. A large portion of the group lowered their hands. In the end, only seven people remained, including the beggar—which surprised Arthur slightly.

"Those who lowered their hands at the start—leave."

More than half of those present exited the hall.

Arthur looked at the remaining thirty or so individuals and said:

"Starting tomorrow, I want a full census of every resident in the barony. Include all farmlands—and don’t forget the livestock. Record everything: their jobs, lifestyle, origins, even the size of their homes."