CHAPTER 40: CHAPTER 40 – A DYING PLANE

Suddenly gaining more than two hundred soldiers, Ryan quickly realized that his grain reserves were under pressure again.

But at the same time, his courage grew.

Inside the baronial keep, Ryan—assisted by both Old and Young Beard—was meticulously donning the mithril armor set that had been delivered.

In an instant, a majestic and formidable knight, armored from head to toe with no vulnerable seams exposed, stood tall within the room.

Yet Ryan did not feel even slightly obstructed in his vision.

Mithril had a dual nature—it could block magic, but also act as a superior magical conduit. These traits didn’t contradict one another at all when it came to mithril.

In terms of magic suppression, mithril could block up to 90% of spells cast by anyone below archmage level. And as a magic-enhancing material, any enchantments carved into mithril could exert 200% of their usual effectiveness.

This particular set of mithril armor came with three magical effects:

Eagle Eye – to see tiny creatures, like moths, from over a kilometer away

Strength Boost – granting Bronze Knight–level strength even at basic knight stage

Aura Burst – a power-up that let Bronze Knights (or higher) release 120% of their battle aura

This single set was worth 100,000 gold coins.

The remaining nine sets only had Eagle Eye and Strength Boost, placing their value between 5,000–7,000 gold coins each.

But those were capital prices, where countless powerful mages, alchemists, and extraordinary individuals were available.

So when Ryan estimated the total value of the Count’s gift at 200,000 gold, that was from the Count’s family’s internal accounting. Other nobles would likely value it far higher.

As for the carriage—there was no recorded market price. It had been custom-built by House Rimehart for their noble kin, and its manufacturing cost was only a few thousand gold coins.

Those few thousand, though, were only possible because most of the materials were self-produced by the Rimehart family.

"Give the remaining suits to Brand and the five Rimeharts—one each," Ryan ordered generously.

The statement left the old steward stunned.

"Young Master Ryan, you mustn’t!" he exclaimed.

"A set of mithril armor... they couldn’t afford that even if they wagered their lives."

Cold sweat gathered on Beard’s forehead. This wasn’t something to casually give away.

Ryan paused. He realized he’d become a bit too casual with these "free" riches. The last time he sold everything valuable in Zero Ferry City, he had only earned around 4,000 gold.

Indeed, for a Bronze Knight, mithril armor was extravagant—something only Silver Knights would even dream of owning.

"Getting carried away..." Ryan muttered to himself.

He had suddenly acquired a vast fortune and clearly didn’t know how to properly manage it—he’d have to be more cautious from now on.

"Forget it, then," he added.

"Tell them we’ll hold a grand military tournament at the end of the year. The strongest knight in the territory will win a set of mithril armor."

Though he reflected on his impulse, Ryan had no intention of hoarding war gear like a collector.

"By the way—Beard," he said, turning to Young Beard.

"I have a task for you. Northern Wind Province is in ruins after the orc raids.

Take 100 soldiers and 300 serfs. Your mission is to purchase slaves and bring them back."

"Prioritize:

Those skilled in horse breeding or blacksmithing

Then, farmhands and orchard workers

Lastly, general laborers—but don’t buy any who’ve been stuck in mines long-term"

"Also, we’re building roads. There should be plenty of orc slaves in Northern Wind Province by now—buy a few of those too."

"I’ll allocate 30,000 gold coins. Use your judgment."

He handed over the discount card from Irina, steward of Razor Rose.

"As you command," Beard replied, trembling.

He had never handled so much gold in his life and felt a bit dizzy just thinking about it. But he made up his mind—he would make every coin count double.

After Young Beard left, Old Beard hesitated.

"Young Master Ryan, I fear... this boy may not be up to the task."

"I believe in him."

Ryan had faith in the noble system of steward training—a system that began in childhood.

More importantly, he wanted to see if Young Beard was capable of becoming his future chief steward. Ryan’s ambitions extended far beyond what the Frozen Wastes could contain.

If he couldn’t manage 30,000 gold well, how could he ever manage Ryan’s future estate?

"Go fetch Brand."

Beard knew what that meant—Ryan was preparing to open the planar gate again.

Brand led ten soldiers, along with Harrington and the five Bronze Knights. Their faces lit up with excitement—just like those before them.

Ryan never made an effort to conceal his power. But thanks to the region’s remoteness and the era’s circumstances, his secret had somehow remained safe all this time.

"The Frozen Wastes—we came to the right place," the knights said, exchanging fervent glances.

For people like them—nobles in name but not in inheritance—their only hope was to follow a rising lord whose future burned brightly.

And then, just like that, a blast of frigid wind snuffed out their fiery ambition.

"Hiss—why is it so cold? Shouldn’t it be warming up?"

As they stepped into the continent of Exnir, Ryan was confused.

He clearly remembered that this plane had the same seasonal cycle as his own world—so why had spring come to the Frozen Wastes, but Exnir remained locked in ice?

"The gods’ war has plunged this plane into eternal winter," Brand said heavily.

This world was his home, filled with memories and stories. Seeing it like this weighed on him.

"It won’t last much longer," Ryan sighed.

Perhaps it was his bond with the Stag Spirit, but he could feel it—this world was dying.

Even Ryan—trained in the Flame Dragon Knight breathing method—was barely resisting the cold.

Ordinary people had no chance.

Their lives were tethered to their food stores in tents, villages, and crumbling castles. Once that was gone, so were they.

"There’s a building up ahead—with lights."

Ryan’s mithril armor granted him far-reaching sight, unaffected even by snowstorms.

He saw a tall tower—clearly a noble estate—its windows flickering faintly through the storm.

In a world already on the brink of death, Ryan felt no more hesitation.

He held the keys to survival in this place—perhaps even the only path forward.