Chapter 113

 Lucian, who had been about to smack the back of Colin’s head before stopping himself, let out a sigh and muttered,

“I guess we have to assume remaking it is impossible.”
“Pardon? What do you mean by— ah.”

Only then did Colin recall a fact he had completely forgotten.
Dragons were creatures that had gone extinct on the continent long ago.
They were mentioned frequently in written records, and a small number of weapons and artifacts made from their bones and scales had been passed down through the ages.
But the last recorded sighting of a living dragon was already a thousand years ago, so they had vanished long before that.

‘The other materials are even worse. What? Giants and mermaids?’

Giants were creatures that had been active even before the age of dragons.
Back when dragons were still rampaging across the land, the phrase “giants who have already disappeared” was already in use.
So even at the time this book was written, it would have been difficult to see a giant.

Mermaids were on an entirely different level.

At least dragons and giants appeared in history books, but mermaids existed only in fairy tales.
In a way, this crafting manual itself served as proof that mermaids might have truly existed.

‘The only one with even a sliver of possibility is a fairy… but there’s no way to find one.’

A sigh slipped from Lucian’s lips.
He had thought they had finally found a method for crafting an artifact, but there wasn’t a single material on the list that they could properly obtain.

“I–I’m sorry. I got carried away without even checking it properly…”
“It’s fine. Since it’s an artifact, that’s understandable. More importantly, what about the other books? Don’t tell me they’re all texts detailing artifact crafting methods?”

Not all artifacts shared the same effects, so their required materials would differ as well.
Still, considering the power of artifacts, regardless of type they would all have similarly extreme levels of crafting difficulty.
If the other books also contained nothing but artifact crafting methods, then none of them would be usable.

Fortunately, the answer Lucian had been hoping for came out of Colin’s mouth.

“I haven’t examined the contents yet, but judging by the covers, they seem to be ordinary magic-tool crafting manuals. There appears to be a wide variety, from weapons to everyday tools.”
“That’s a relief. Well… whether it truly is a relief depends on checking the materials, I suppose.”

Having been burned so badly by artifacts, Lucian now found himself suspicious even when looking at ordinary magic-tool manuals.
What if the materials required for magic tools were also filled with things that only existed a thousand years ago?

Seeing Lucian’s expression, Colin hurriedly bowed his head and said,

“Artifact crafting difficulty is absurdly high, but most magic tools aren’t that hard to make. Moreover, the materials they require can usually be substituted fairly easily, so please don’t worry.”
“Is it really that simple?”
“As long as you properly understand the required functions, it isn’t difficult. The descriptions in these books are more detailed than you might expect, so there shouldn’t be any need to repeat endless trial and error by swapping things around.”

At Colin’s reply, Lucian nodded.
When an expert spoke with such confidence, there had to be something backing it up.
Just as Lucian was about to step back and wait while Colin examined the books, a sudden question occurred to him.

“Come to think of it, what kind of function does that artifact have to demand such utterly ridiculous materials?”

Lucian had only heard that it was an artifact crafting method; he hadn’t been told what kind of artifact it was meant to create.

Perhaps because the word artifact had dazzled him as well, Colin hadn’t checked it properly. Only after being questioned did he hurriedly flip open the pages at the back.

“S-So this artifact is… apparently a weather-control device.”

“A weather-control device?”
“Yes. One that can manipulate the climate over an extremely vast area, at that. However, its function is limited to lowering temperatures, and it can summon heavy snowfall and blizzards, turning the affected region into land where humans cannot live—.”

Colin, who had been reading through the text, suddenly froze.
Stopping mid-explanation, he looked up at Lucian with a pale face.
Lucian, having arrived at the same possibility, merely nodded in silence.

‘Unnaturally low temperatures, winter that lasts all year, and frequent bouts of heavy snow and blizzards.’

As far as Lucian knew, there was only one place like that in the Empire.

The North.

A level of cold so unnatural that people even called it a curse.
The suspicion arose that perhaps that cold truly was an artificial phenomenon.

The retainers who had come out after checking the treasury were swept up in excitement.
Those who had known of its existence were thrilled that the treasury had finally been opened.
Those who hadn’t believed that with treasure of this magnitude, nothing would be impossible.

But among them, Sword Saint Aizen alone maintained his composure.

“First, we need to gather people.”

Aizen spoke to Lucian with a face that showed the weight of long years.
He meant that they should first decide who would be assigned that legacy for research, and only then make it public.

“Unless you intend to use it as bait to lure someone in, there’s no need to reveal the legacy first. If you reveal it too early, all sorts of pests will swarm in.”

Lucian nodded at Aizen’s advice.
Whether in business or research, those who contributed help inevitably claimed a certain share.
If Lucian were to reveal that legacy, lords eager to jump in and grab a piece of the pie would rush in all at once.
If the distribution of shares were settled beforehand, no one would be able to interfere and they would be left sucking their thumbs.
It wasn’t wrong—but Lucian had circumstances that made that course impossible.

“You’re right, but unfortunately, this is a time when that temptation is necessary.”
“Do you already have some talent in mind?”
“Not exactly. But mages won’t gather unless there’s bait right in front of them.”

The retainers’ gazes turned toward Colin.
They had hired Colin to handle magical research, yet now they were talking about bringing in new mages.
Under the barrage of looks from all sides, Colin let out a sigh.

“I’m embarrassed to say it, but this isn’t a field where I can produce results on my own. Even if multiple mages tackle it together, it would take years…”
“Can’t you just bring people from the school you belong to? There’s no need to give up your bowl of rice to others.”
“I’m not giving anything up. It’s just that the Celestial School alone doesn’t have nearly enough people.”

At Hugo’s blunt—bordering on crude—question, Colin gave a bitter smile.

“The Celestial School I belong to consists of only five people in total. Of those, my master’s whereabouts are unknown, and the other three have also gone missing. Among my fellow disciples, there’s only one person I’m still in contact with.”
“…You call that a school? That’s all there is?”
“This is actually a lot. Most schools that have survived to this day consist of only two or three people at most.”

Colin explained that rashly increasing the number of disciples would only raise the risk of being caught up in a witch hunt, so they had no choice but to be cautious.
Only then did Aizen understand the situation, frowning deeply.

“I see. In that case, there’s no choice but to announce the existence of the legacy first.”
“Mages are one thing, but it’s also impossible to receive no support at all from other lords. The supplies loaned by the Imperial Court won’t last forever.”

Until recently, Asagrim had been an uninhabitable region directly administered by the Imperial Court.
Naturally, there were no trade routes or infrastructure of any kind in place.

Once the population increased, things would become active on their own—but it took time for rumors to spread and for merchants to gather.
For the rapid formation of a commercial district and smooth trade, there was no choice but to rely on the help of other lords in the early stages.

“Before we end up living off others, we need to secure the means for self-sufficiency with the bare minimum of debt. Once trade becomes active, Asagrim will become the center of commerce.”
“Do you already have some partners in mind?”

Concern crept into Aizen’s voice.
This was a world full of fools who bragged loudly over debts no bigger than a handful.
If you chose the wrong people to borrow from, it could become a lifelong headache.
But Lucian smiled calmly, utterly unconcerned.

“Of course. Friends who will gladly lend us a hand.”

***

The dispute surrounding the name Grimaldi had come to an end.
Lucian emerged as the complete victor, while Calyx’s fall had gone so far that the destruction of his entire house was now a foregone conclusion.
The people of the North, following the prevailing tide, threw their support behind Lucian—but there were those who could not do so even if they wanted to.

They were the lords of the allied factions who had supported Calyx with both material aid and manpower.

“What should we do now?”

Hermann, head of the House of Baron Glauber, asked the other lords in the same predicament who had gathered for the meeting.
Being stuck between a rock and a hard place, he had hoped that putting their heads together might produce a good solution.
But the lords merely watched one another, none of them saying a word.
After a long stretch of silence, Hermann slammed the table repeatedly.

“Don’t just sit there like a bunch of mutes—say something! We need to find a way to survive, don’t we?!”

Despite Hermann’s furious outburst, no one still opened their mouth.
Just as he was growing so frustrated that he considered scrapping the meeting altogether—

“So half of you are helpless fools who don’t know what to do, and the other half are complacent idiots who think you can just sit still and everything will work out. Truly impressive.”

At the sneer coming from the entrance to the conference room, Hermann and the other attendees all narrowed their eyes.
All the important figures were already present, so this latecomer had to be some insignificant nobody—and yet he dared to speak in such a tone!

“Which bastard dares—!”

Hermann sprang to his feet in anger, only to freeze on the spot.
The one who had hurled the mockery was someone who hadn’t even been sent an invitation.

“Nice to meet you. There are some faces I recognize and some I don’t. I’m not sure whether you know who I am.”
“Oh, we know you all right. Aren’t you the unfilial wretch who dragged his own father down, killed his elder brother, and stole the position of family head?”
“An unfilial wretch, huh.”

At Hermann’s words, Lesta, head of the House of Baron Beor, let out a quiet snort of laughter.

“Aren’t the real unfilial ones the people gathered here?”
“You’ve squandered in a single moment the glory your great ancestors built up over countless generations.”

“Truly impressive. How do you manage to walk around with your heads held so high? If it were me, I’d be too busy worrying about how to explain myself to my ancestors in the afterlife.”
“You bastard!”

The moment Hermann, unable to contain his fury, lunged forward to grab him by the collar—
a completely unexpected proposal spilled from Lesta’s mouth, his smile gone.

“Duke Lucian wishes to see your sincerity.”
“What? Sincerity?”
“He says that donations are needed to restore Asagrim’s former glory. Labor and goods are acceptable as substitutes, so as long as you show proper sincerity—”
“What kind of bullshit is that?!”

A furious roar burst from Hermann’s mouth.
Sincerity? Wasn’t that just an excuse to squeeze money out of them by invoking the past?

“We cut ties with Calyx long ago after the assassination incident! On what grounds do you demand ‘sincerity’ from us now?!”
“You know full well, don’t you? The crime of having supported a traitor in both material and manpower up until now.”
“Don’t make me laugh! You’re going to brand us traitors too just because of old connections? Fine—go ahead and try it! Let’s see just how great that upstart duke of yours really is!”

At Hermann’s words, the other lords nodded with confident expressions.
Why had they clung to complacency all this time, even while watching Calyx fall?
Because if all of them rose together, they would form a resistance force that could not be ignored.
If Lucian had no desire to spark a new war, he would have no choice but to pretend ignorance and bury their past.

Reading the lords’ confidence, Lesta let out a soft chuckle.

“How can you all be so slow on the uptake? Why do you think the duke would step in personally? All that’s needed is to single out who the traitors are.”
“What?”
“If you refuse, he’ll split this room neatly in half. He’ll swear to completely forgive one half and hold no crimes against them. Then he’ll declare the other half traitors and proclaim that whoever subjugates them will inherit all of their territories intact. Now—what do you think will happen then?”