CHAPTER 70: CHAPTER 70: DIG THREE FEET DEEP? EVEN THE WEEDS ARE MY WEALTH!

That’s right. Back when the first group was transferred from Furnace City to the Frozen Territory, Ryan had already ordered the commoners to bring everything they possibly could—from wooden forks to hoes, even the soil outside the city. He had scraped away three whole layers of it.

The Frozen Territory needed arable land to grow crops, and that meant fertile soil. Just this scraped-off layer could be enough to cultivate thousands of acres.

At this point, Ryan even believed that of all the wealth he gained from Furnace City, this soil was the most valuable.

As for why the population was being transferred in phases, the reason was simple.

The Frozen Territory couldn’t handle the sudden influx of nearly twenty thousand people—not in terms of housing, nor the strain it would place on social structure and resources. The first group to go over were the most capable laborers. They brought resources and were expected to help build and implement the layout plans for the new city in the Frozen Territory.

The remaining people stayed in Furnace City because, although it was getting colder, the shift was gradual. For the time being, the city was still livable—even more so than the Frozen Territory in some respects.

Most importantly, it also helped alleviate pressure on food supplies.

"A bit of a pity that those mages used up too much gold—and took too much wealth with them."

Ryan was disappointed. After ransacking all of Furnace City, he hadn’t managed to extract much treasure. Even in their hurried escape, the nobles and mages hadn’t forgotten to grab every last coin.

But soon he let it go. Gold coins served as magical catalysts—of course the nobles and mages would prioritize them.

Still, in the limited time available, Ryan had managed to seize nearly 50,000 gold coins and over 700,000 silver coins.

Even more valuable than the coins, though, were the rare and artistic goods. Nobles and mages took coins and silver because they were useful for spells—but those luxurious artworks? Not so much.

Delicate antiques, especially finely crafted bottles and flasks once used for wine—these were a treasure trove.

Ryan had shipped it all back to the Frozen Territory. If Irina really arrived next year, Ryan planned to give her a massive surprise.

If the timing had been better, he’d have already established his own merchant guild to start selling this treasure to the south. Southern nobles would never hesitate to spend gold on luxury.

And then there were the houses. In the days ahead, Ryan intended to have the remaining residents tear down the city buildings. Massive wooden beams and finely carved stones would be transported back to the Frozen Territory—not just to decorate his baron’s keep, but even the more ordinary materials could be sold off.

Who would buy them? Well, don’t forget—once the Frozen Territory had landed nobility (those new Lords of Merit), even people like Bain’s family of peasant farmers would be eager to buy these materials. Why? To show off. To draw status lines between themselves and the mud-covered commoners. To get closer to Ryan.

Any surplus would be sent to the south as decorative artworks. Ryan understood this part of the game all too well.

Besides demolishing houses, every item, big or small, Ryan had no intention of leaving anything behind.

The noble estates had flower beds and lush lawns. Once those plants adapted to the colder weather and survived, Ryan planned to dig them up and ship them back to the Frozen Territory.

In short: pluck every feather from the passing goose.

Wherever Lord Ryan passed, not even a blade of wild grass would be left behind.

Digging three feet deep wasn’t an exaggeration. That very day, Ryan led a team to the Mage Academy and dragged out the subterranean furnace buried dozens of fathoms below.

This action finally convinced everyone in Furnace City that the place was truly doomed. Even the geothermal fire had frozen over. The depths of the earth had entered eternal winter even earlier than the surface.

In that moment, every conspiracy theory was crushed. The people of Furnace City, drowning in despair, had no choice but to cling to Ryan as their final lifeline.

Naturally, this meant that Ryan’s orders were followed far more smoothly.

When serfs became proactive, the development potential they unleashed was truly astonishing.

As a result, Ryan had to shuttle constantly between the Frozen Territory and Furnace City, maintaining the people’s morale.

Every few days, he would let a small group cross the planar gate, which also served to motivate those still waiting, spurring them to work harder in hopes of being chosen next.

Time passed, and by the end of May, it had been a month since Ryan—once an outsider from another world—had gained control over the last warm zone on this continent. With the cultists no longer appearing, his confidence grew.

He began searching for nearby resource nodes, and sure enough, less than ten miles north of Furnace City, he found a copper mine.

Once the harsh cold was endured and the mining tunnels dug, it would even provide better shelter than the city itself.

"Some to farm, some to mine. Hopefully I’ll find a few more deposits. The rest will cut firewood—and oh, right, I still need people fishing in Crescent Lake."

In Furnace City, Ryan jotted down these plans one by one, his constant travels between two worlds keeping him very busy.

"Once these future lords are trained up, I’ll finally be able to enjoy life."

So Ryan encouraged himself.

According to the promises he made (plus the addition of Beard), by the end of this year, his territory would have six landed nobles.

This exceeded the number of lords permitted for a barony, but Ryan didn’t care.

After all, what other barony had a population of twenty or thirty thousand?

The Frozen Territory sat at the edge of the empire—who was going to come check?

By the time the other nobles found out, Ryan would already have the clout to justify it, and tell them confidently: Yes, my domain can support this many lords.

So what were standards made for? To be broken, obviously.

Just because other barons couldn’t manage it didn’t mean Ryan Rimehart couldn’t. If anyone had a problem with it? Fine—give him a promotion. He was worthy of the title Viscount.

This Furnace City had become Ryan’s greatest treasure since arriving on the continent of Exnir. Everything within—seen and unseen—would allow his territory to leap forward in development.

But that didn’t mean Ryan had no worries. Besides the food issue, he noticed something else: every time he opened the planar gate, the spiritual energy cost increased.

From the initial 100 units of spirit energy required to reach Exnir, the cost had now risen to 150. He suspected it would soon climb even higher.

In the future, he wasn’t even sure if he’d still be able to open the gate.

This urgency made him even more determined: in the next few months, he had to extract every bit of wealth he possibly could from here.

The first stockpile of his domain’s future—it all hinged on this moment.