Chapter 142. Factory City (3)

One of the lord's main duties is inspection.

Anyone who has served in the military knows that whether a superior shows up occasionally or not has a significant impact on work efficiency.

The same goes for a domain.

Especially Wolfskrig, a newly established city, can be compared to a small or medium-sized enterprise in Earth's terms.

Unlike a large corporation with a perfectly established system, everything is in development, and therefore, every corner needs to be looked after more meticulously.

"My lord, we have arrived."

Of course, there are priorities among them.

The more important the place, the more frequently I visited.

The blacksmith district, which would later be transformed into a factory zone, was always high on my inspection list.

There were few places above it, one of them being the farmland.

‘Of course. It is important indeed. Is it not a sacrifice to be offered to these ancient and august beings?’

‘Tick-Tock…!’

Sacrifice, my ass.

I got out of the carriage with a chuckle.

A light drizzle was falling on the vast farmland.

It wasn't good weather for labor, but since the entire rainy season was the farming season, peasants holding hoes and small sickles could be seen here and there.

"Oh my, you've arrived."

An old man, the representative of the peasants in this cleared area, reported the situation to Bart, rubbing his hands together.

How much it had grown since the last report, how much had rotted, what the expected yield was, and so on.

"You've worked hard. It seems everyone is working in the rain, so I will provide raincoats through the administrator within this week. Please wear them while you work."

"Oh my, thank you."

"And you, elder, please wear this for now. The elderly are prone to catching colds."

"Ah, no, my lord…!"

"I'm not saying this as a viscount, but as someone who could be your son."

I draped my overcoat over the old man and got back into the carriage.

I visited a few more fields that afternoon.

Half of them were newly cleared lands where the first sowing had begun.

With people flocking to Wolfskrig, the most urgent issue was food.

Few rulers became benevolent monarchs without solving the problem of sustenance.

Wasn't the reason Fritz Haber, who killed tens of thousands with poison gas during World War I, won the Nobel Prize because his contribution of universalizing the concept of surplus food in human civilization through the atmospheric nitrogen fixation method was recognized?

Unfortunately, artificial nitrogen fertilizer had not yet been invented in this world.

However, there was a simpler solution.

Miracles.

The grace of God flowing from the hands of priests.

Miracles that breathed life into dead land and made family lands fertile had a performance comparable to the highest quality fertilizer.

Some pessimistic church officials sent sarcastic letters asking if we were using priests as fertilizer-making machines, but…

Nonsense.

This was all for the revival of the Luark Church.

The archbishops were actively supporting our viscounty's immigration policy, so who could say anything?

Above all, was I not a war hero chosen by God?

‘…Hey, your conscience?’

"Thanks to the church's active support, this year's rice harvest is expected to increase by about one and a half times compared to the last. And since we will be greatly expanding the farmland during this dry season, it is expected to increase even more."

‘It is the end of days. To think the priests of the state religion are being swayed by such a scoundrel who is a believer in appearance only…’

"The sugarcane harvest is expected to about double. We are already making sugar with the last harvest."

‘…There are such baseless rumors, but it seems to be appropriate support from the church for a war hero.’

"Now that Indika has fallen, if we can quickly dominate the sugar production industry, we can see great profits."

Bart said, pushing up his glasses.

He was right.

The changes in the continent's political landscape weren't just a story among kings and nobles.

The fall of a country meant that the goods exported from that country would also disappear.

‘The main producer of sugar was Indika.’

Sugar, enjoyed by many nobles including Archduke Gabir.

The Empire imported 95 percent of its sugar from Indika.

As it was a luxury item for the nobles, the trade volume did not decrease even when relations became somewhat awkward before and after the civil war.

That Indika had fallen.

Presumably due to the Lumer Legion's invasion.

Now, more than a year after Indika's fall, the price of sugar was skyrocketing.

Recalling my memories of Earth, its momentum was comparable to Bitcoin.

This meant that I hadn't started sugarcane farming solely for the inhabitants of the subspace.

‘Ha, don't be shy. It's fine. We know it's for us. We, the magnanimous, will understand even if you don't say it.’

‘Kiiing!’

“……”

The location was also perfect.

Wolfskrig's hot and humid weather was ideal for sugarcane cultivation.

Labor was constantly supplied from the Empire's mainland.

Untouched land was everywhere.

There were priests to fertilize the land, and I also had a trait related to farming.

[Oh My, A Bountiful Harvest!]

[The probability of your owned land having a bountiful harvest increases.]

Finally, the role of the head of the Kambad Merchant Guild was significant.

The head, who primarily traded steel and herbs, was also friendly with experts in herbology and chemistry.

Borrowing his connections, I invited several technicians who knew how to make sugar.

A sugar factory was built.

Although it's still a dark brown lump of sugar closer to raw sugar than white sugar.

Still, the sweetness is the same, so I'm researching ways to sell it for a higher price.

For example, as sweets.

In the evening, after all the inspection schedules were finished, I headed to the confectionery in the central square.

I had an appointment.

Since the other party was running a bit late, I ordered some snacks first.

"Oh my, welcome."

As I stood in front of the counter, a middle-aged woman holding a child greeted me.

She was old man Poodle's wife.

I knew her.

"The child has grown a lot. Is the first one out playing?"

"Yes, he's been coming home late at night recently. I was worried at first, but I'm relieved that the streets are so bright. It's thanks to your care, my lord."

"What did I do? It's thanks to everyone working hard."

"Living a peaceful life like this is thanks to you, my lord. You made it so my husband didn't have to go to war back then…"

The wife said, slowly stroking her child's hair.

She was talking about the time of the civil war.

A few weeks before being hired by Archduke Gabir and setting out, she came to her husband, old man Poodle, and pleaded with him not to go to the battlefield anymore.

In the end, it was a win-win.

She protected her family, and I gained an excellent architect and a resourceful confectionery owner.

After sitting down in the room on the third floor, the snacks I ordered were soon brought out.

Seasonal fruits, cookies, and coffee.

"I've never seen this cookie before."

I picked one of them up.

"Did you sprinkle it with the sugar made in the domain?"

"Yes, I kneaded rice flour, fried it, and coated it with sugar. The sweetness is a bit less than the white sugar we used to use, but it has its own unique flavor."

‘Me too! Me too! Just one bite!’

‘Kiiiiing!!’

"Miss Karen developed it. She's so skillful with her small, fern-like hands. I'm surprised every time she comes by to research recipes with me."

There was no need to mention how many Orcs and undead she had killed with those fern-like hands.

In fact, Karen had always been serious about cooking.

Back in the mercenary days, old man Brol had been slapped on the back hundreds of times for putting his personal spoon in the pot.

The first menu of this confectionery was also her cookie set, which won the cooking competition at the Harvest Festival.

"A few days ago, she said she found a problem with the rice bread and spent a long time kneading the dough."

Poodle's wife smiled, covering her mouth.

Then, the sound of a baby crying came from downstairs.

"Oh my, I should get going. Please have a good time."

"Thank you."

Poodle's wife left and the door closed.

I opened the subspace, which had been noisy for a while.

Tentacles, a short spear, an optic nerve, and a starfish arm were trembling and facing me.

‘Tick-Tock!’

‘Give me a bite. Just one bite!’

‘Me too, me too!’

I broke off about half of the cookie and put it into the subspace.

It was a reward of sorts.

These guys were currently creating the control manual for the aerial battleship hidden in a corner of the domain.

‘Mmm! This sweet and savory taste!’

‘Kiiing…’

‘Master! How about marrying that elf, no, that half-elf?! I will bestow upon you my blessing as an Outer God. I can even officiate if you want!’

As I was watching the statues' talent show, the sun set.

Luminescent stone streetlights lit up the square.

My appointment arrived shortly after.

"I apologize for being late. The training was delayed more than expected."

"It's fine. I haven't been waiting long."

It was Olif, the baron of Burken Fortress and the commander of the Nameless Knights, the core of the viscount's army.

"I sought you out because I have something to tell you."

While we were making small talk, the food arrived, and Olif spoke first.

With my ears open, I took a large spoonful of black pudding stew—which the Princess of Blood had introduced during the Harvest Festival—with rice.

It was none other than rice with blood sausage soup.

After a whole day of inspections, my stomach felt like it was stuck to my back. What could be more energizing than gukbap, the soul food of Koreans?

Thanking the Princess of Blood for joining my side, I stuffed my mouth full of rice mixed in blood sausage soup.

"It's about the 2nd Battalion Commander, no, about Miss Karen."

"Eom? Mmm. Mmmm-mmm-mmm. (Karen? Ah, our head chef.)"

"Miss Karen is a pure-blooded Elf."

"Pfft!"

I was reminded of one of the characteristics of gukbap after a long time.

It is extremely painful if you choke on it and it goes up your nose.

***

There is a culture of passing down reprimands.

It often occurs in hierarchical organizations, especially in public servant organizations or the military, and its origin probably stems from the top-down flow of accountability for public matters.

Frankly, I don't think it's a good culture.

There are many cases where the person on the ground takes responsibility for the decision-maker's mistake, and it's not uncommon for them to be treated as an emotional dumping ground beyond official reprimands.

The worst is when they bring up personal matters.

I experienced it a few times during my shorter-than-average military service.

Once, a close colleague's family suffered a misfortune.

He came to me after roll call, crying and telling me the whole story, and asked if I could keep it a secret because he didn't want to inform the unit for some reason.

I kept my mouth shut, but there are no secrets in an organization like the military.

Sometime later, the company commander, who had heard the whole story, called me in and reprimanded me for not reporting it to him immediately.

Various charges were attached, and my vacation, scheduled for a week later, was also canceled.

Interestingly, the accident happened during that vacation period.

After waking up from a year-long coma, I checked my phone and found messages of support, worry, and encouragement from many seniors and juniors piled up.

There was no message from the guy who told me the secret.

It's a bitter memory, but it's not important right now.

"You said she was a half-elf?"

‘I-I thought you knew, master. Didn't you say you know so many things that it's hard to tell what you don't know…’

"You asked me how I'd feel about marrying that half-elf, didn't you?"

‘I'm sorry.’

Knowingly hiding a secret is a reprehensible act.

Even more so if cookie crumbs from what they were just eating were still stuck on them.

However, if I got angry here, I would be no different from that company commander.

It's not like it would lead to a solution.

"Huu."

Let's go find the person in question.