Chapter 27: Planning
“My lord.”
Roland's voice was hoarse yet unusually steady, the muscles beneath the scar slashing across his face tensing slightly with excitent.
“The preliminary registration is complete.”
“Among the newcors, seven claim to be blacksmiths, and nineteen are carpenters.”
“Additionally, there are over thirty stonemasons and kiln workers skilled in firing bricks and tiles.”
This figure far exceeded Caesar's expectations.
He had originally assud that what remained in Grayrock Town's Rat's Nest were rely the old, weak, sick, and disabled—bodies hollowed out by alcohol and despair.
Now it seed the place was more like a final refuge for craftsn discarded by the tis.
Perhaps their skills weren't refined, perhaps their temperants were timid, but what they carried in their minds was the most precious intangible asset on this desolate land.
“Excellent.”
Caesar finally withdrew his gaze and accepted the crude sheepskin parchnt.
His fingertips traced lightly over several nas, the corner of his mouth curving into an almost imperceptible arc.
“Much better than I anticipated.”
“In this ga, we've gained several key pieces.”
He handed the parchnt back to Roland and ordered in a calm tone.
“Go fetch Barrett.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Roland asked no questions. He turned and lifted the heavy door curtain, issuing quiet instructions outside.
The cold wind seized the opportunity to rush in, making the lamplight flicker violently and casting Caesar's shadow like a demon poised to devour.
For a mont, Caesar remained alone in the tent.
He walked to the center, crouched down, picked up a charred piece of wood, and began sketching on the relatively flat ground.
His movents were unhurried, each stroke as if asuring the land and outlining the future.
Lines extended beneath his hand. A crude yet ambitious outline was being born on the dark earth.
Monts later, one-eyed Barrett ducked his head and entered the tent cautiously.
He still carried the chill and dust from outside, his single eye filled with awe, unease, and a trace of undigested excitent.
The fierce energy he had displayed outside while subduing troublemakers and assigning tasks vanished without trace the mont he stepped into this confined space.
He didn't even dare breathe loudly, lest he disturb this young lord whose thoughts were more unfathomable than the abyss.
“L-Lord.”
He didn't dare raise his head, only bowed in salute, his posture extrely deferential.
Caesar paid no heed to his restraint, didn't even lift his head to glance at him, rely continued using the charcoal to complete a massive crude sketch composed of two concentric circles on the ground.
Barrett's peripheral vision caught sight of the diagram, confusion stirring in his heart.
What is this? So kind of ritual magic circle?
“Roland, Barrett.”
Caesar finally spoke, calling both nas.
“Here!”
Both responded simultaneously, their gazes involuntarily drawn to the sketch on the ground.
“This camp beneath our feet, and the Wall of Despair we've already built.”
Caesar tapped the inner circle of the sketch with the charcoal, his voice unusually clear in the quiet tent.
“Starting today, it is no longer rely a wall.”
“It is the inner keep foundation of my future castle, the first core layer of the entire defense system!”
“Inner keep foundation?”
Barrett unconsciously repeated the phrase, not yet comprehending.
Roland also frowned, though a trace of contemplation flashed in his eyes.
Caesar raised his head, his deep purple eyes flickering with fearso light in the lampglow.
“That's right.”
“This wall will serve as the first layer of our castle's main body. In the future, we will build higher towers and battlents atop it, forging my lord's manor into a fortress that overlooks the entire territory!”
“It is only a beginning.”
“Hiss—”
Barrett sucked in a sharp breath, his head snapping up, his single eye filled with shock and disbelief.
He felt as if an invisible hand had seized his heart, nearly stopping it from beating.
Using that wall—already nearly one kiloter in circumference, built by mobilizing two hundred n—as rely the inner keep's first layer? How large would the future castle be?
This… this wasn't ambition anymore, this was madness!
Even a marquis's castle didn't have such an exaggerated scale!
What was this youth exiled by his family trying to accomplish?
Compared to Barrett's near loss of composure, Roland's body shuddered violently.
On his weathered face, the muscles beneath the scar twitched slightly, his eyes erupting with a fervent gleam.
From this insane plan, he caught the scent of a kingly aura that made one tremble.
Truly worthy of the lord to whom he had sworn loyalty—this was the ttle only powerful pioneers possessed!
Caesar remained oblivious to their shock. His finger moved to the outer circle, forcefully drawing a line across the blank space representing the vast wasteland, the charcoal leaving a heavy black mark on the ground.
“Starting from the Wall of Despair, extending outward three kiloters.”
His voice wasn't loud, yet carried an unquestionable coldness.
“We will build a second wall here.”
“A true fortress capable of withstanding tens of thousands of troops, one that will make all enemies shrink back in fear!”
Three kiloters!
Barrett felt as if his skull had been struck by a battering ram, buzzing and blank.
He was a crude man, but he understood basic calculations.
With a three-kiloter radius… what terrifying figure would that wall's circumference be?
Even the Empire's most elite engineering corps would need years to complete it!
“My lord… this… this is impossible…”
Barrett stamred. This wasn't doubt, but an instinctive reaction after being stunned by a goal too imnse to imagine.
“We… we don't have that many people…”
“Nothing is impossible.”
Caesar finally stood, looking down at him from above, his deep purple eyes containing not the slightest ripple—only absolute rationality.
“Barrett, what do you see?”
“I… I see a wall that will never be finished, a mad notion that will work us all to death.”
Barrett nearly moaned out his true thoughts.
Caesar's gaze showed no disappointnt. Instead, he turned to his knight.
“Roland, what about you?”
“I see the foundation of a throne.”
Roland's voice was low and powerful, each word as if hamred from his chest.
“A border capable of sheltering an entire kingdom!”
The corner of Caesar's mouth curved into a barely perceptible arc. He looked back at Barrett, his tone taking on a trace of instruction.
“Barrett, your perspective limits your imagination.”
“You're right—with our current capabilities, building a perfect fortress in a short ti is indeed impossible.”
“But who says we must accomplish everything in one step?”
He crouched down and drew another parallel dotted line beside the outer circle's mark.
“First step: We'll use one to two months to build a rough wall five ters high and three ters thick, using earth and stone.”
“It needn't be beautiful, but it must be solid—sufficient to repel small bands of bandits and low-tier magical beasts.”
“This wall will be our territory's boundary, the safety line for everyone's survival.”
“Second step: With this basic defense line, we can develop peacefully within the walls.”
“Over the next one to two years, or even longer, we will continuously reinforce and refine this wall, encasing it with fired bricks and stone, building arrow towers and wall-walks, until it becos sothing beyond your imagination.”
Caesar's words were like cold water, extinguishing the unrealistic fear in Barrett's heart while igniting an even more vigorous fla.
Phased construction! First build sothing functional, then slowly upgrade it!
This approach he could understand! This… this actually seed to have a sliver of possibility!
“As for manpower and food…”
Caesar stood, dusting the charcoal ash from his hands.
“The thousand-plus newly arrived laborers crying for sustenance—they'll give everything for a ho where they can eat their fill.”
“I possess food capable of supporting consumption on any scale.”
“What I need is rely to convert this cheap labor and virtually unlimited food into impregnable walls and sharp blades.”
He used his toe to divide the sketch into four fan-shaped sections.
“Starting tomorrow, the entire territory will beco a massive construction site.”
“I will divide this place into four zones.”
“First, the Food Zone.”
“I'll have Finn lead everyone who knows farming to reclaim land there on a large scale.”
“Before winter fully arrives, I want to see Earth Potatoes covering that black soil as far as the eye can see.”
“Food is our foundation, the lifeblood driving everything—there can be no failures.”
“Second, the Craftsn Zone.”
He pointed to a downwind location.
“All blacksmiths, carpenters, stonemasons, and kiln workers will be concentrated there.”
“Barrett, you'll supervise them, provide them the best lodging and als, and satisfy all their reasonable needs.”
“I need them forging tools, cutting lumber, and firing bricks day and night without cease.”
“I want the sounds of hamr on anvil and saw on wood to beco our territory's heartbeat, never stopping.”
“Third, the Living Zone.”
He indicated the most expansive area.
“All newly arrived families will be settled here.”
“They'll build their own dwellings by household.”
“Tell them: the sturdier the house they build, the more secure their ho.”
“I don't support idlers, nor do I provide free lunches.”
“Fourth, the Military Zone.”
His finger fell on the area adjacent to the inner side of the Wall of Despair, his tone turning cold.
“Roland, your task is the heaviest.”
“Select our existing twenty veteran guards as the backbone.”
“From the two hundred who endured a full month of blood and sweat and have been completely transford, choose the most elite, most fearless hundred.”
“Then screen one hundred eighty of the most promising candidates from the newly arrived able-bodied n as reserves.”
He deliberately emphasized “a full month of blood and sweat,” both affirming Roland's work and reminding Barrett that his n were no rabble.
“Three hundred n total will form our territory's first standing army, codena: Black Dragon Guard.”
“They will be stationed in the Military Zone, receive the harshest training, enjoy the best treatnt, and their rations must include at.”
“They will be the sword and shield protecting this land.”
Four zones, four clearly defined functions.
The embryo of a massive, orderly city was being clearly outlined in this crude sketch and Caesar's cold words.
Barrett could no longer speak. He only stared blankly at the sketch on the ground, his forehead covered in cold sweat.
He had thought the lord rely wanted to build a larger stockade. He never imagined that from the very beginning, the goal was to build a city!
A tropolis capable of rivaling any of the Empire's border cities!
This heaven-devouring ambition left him suffocating, yet made all the blood in his body begin to boil.
A future he had never dared imagine was spreading before him, raw and bleeding.
“But, my lord…”
Barrett finally recovered his voice. He swallowed and raised the most practical question.
“With so many people, relying only on food and the whip will be difficult to manage.”
“People are inherently lazy, especially those lazybones fresh from the Rat's Nest. How… how do we motivate them?”
“There will always be those who show up but don't work, who slack off.”
“Excellent question.”
The corner of Caesar's mouth finally curved into a cold arc, that smile making Barrett shudder.
“You're right—people are lazy and full of selfish desires.”
“So we cannot fight human nature. We must exploit it.”
He picked up a small stone and gently placed it at the very center of the sketch, as if pressing the activation switch for the entire blueprint.
“We'll use this thing to drive them—work points.”
“Work points?”
Both Barrett and Roland showed confused expressions.
This was a term neither had ever heard.
“Starting tomorrow, all labor within the territory will be quantified and asured using work points.”
Caesar explained, his voice carrying a bewitching magic.
“Excavate one cart of earth, earn one work point.”
“Fire one hundred qualified red bricks, earn ten work points.”
“Forge a brand new logging axe, earn fifty work points.”
“Different tasks have different work point standards, which you and Roland will jointly establish and I will approve.”
“These work points are your money.”
“The only hard currency on this land.”
“One work point can be exchanged for a standard portion of black bread and vegetable soup—enough to keep you from starving.”
“Ten work points can be exchanged for a dinner with at, letting you taste so richness.”
“One hundred work points can be exchanged for a sturdier set of tools for your family, or a warm fur.”
“Even a thousand work points can be exchanged for a larger plot of land closer to the core area, where you can build your own stone house.”
Caesar paused, his gaze sweeping over the completely stunned Barrett, speaking word by word.
“More work, more gain. Less work, no gain. No work… starve to death.”
He spoke the final five words lightly, yet they struck Barrett's heart like a hamr blow.
He understood! He completely understood!
In that instant, Barrett felt his very soul trembling.
This was more effective than any whip!
More effective than any impassioned speech! This was the most naked form of open scheming! It bound everyone's fate—their sweat, their family's sustenance, their future prospects—tightly together!
Under this system, laziness equaled slow suicide.
And diligence could be exchanged for a visibly better life!
All that nonsense about noble bloodlines and social status was worthless in this frawork!
The only thing of value was the damn sweat you shed!
“I… I understand, my lord!”
Barrett's voice trembled with extre excitent, as if he could already see a scene of fervent construction, everyone swinging their tools like madn.
“I guarantee! Within a month, you'll see workers more driven than magical beasts!”
“They'll break their skulls trying to earn one more work point!”
“Good.”
Caesar nodded, satisfied with Barrett's comprehension.
These old foxes who had clawed their way up from the bottom understood this system's cruelty and allure best.
He slowly turned, his gaze settling on the tent entrance.
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