The Current State of Mages

The people working at the campsite quickly realized that the "ancestor" from seven hundred years ago was indeed a strange person.

As for the sudden change of Cecil's lord from Miss Rebecca to Master Gawain, the commoners and serfs had no opinion. In this era, the lower classes were grateful for their lord's generosity and wisdom as long as they could eat seven to eight parts full each day; they didn't care at all who the lord actually was. To them, the only thing worth discussing after Master Gawain took over was the strange new rules he had implemented right from the start.

Regarding the possibility of serfs being promoted to free citizens and free citizens receiving remuneration for their labor, most people chose to believe it to a limited extent, viewing it as a means for the new lord to display his generosity. Following general patterns, they expected these promises to be fulfilled in very harsh or cunning ways: perhaps one or two serfs would become free citizens, and those who worked for pay might have their wages deducted for various reasons, leaving only two or three lucky individuals to receive a symbolic copper coin, demonstrating that the lord had indeed done as he said.

However, the commoners and serfs wouldn't complain. After all, a lord willing to show his generosity was much better than one who immediately whipped slaves to assert his authority.

And besides, wouldn't some benefits be distributed anyway?

Compared to those generous rules, the various "regulations and rules" formulated by Master Gawain were truly perplexing.

Dividing people into work groups, having groups compete, and even registering workloads and conducting "assessments"... these were unheard-of methods.

Some people were discussing in hushed tones, speculating which part of these new rules would eventually become the basis for taxation – even though no one in the currently impoverished Cecil Territory could afford to pay taxes. Others were discussing whether Master Gawain was making such a fuss over simple labor service due to some ancient eccentricity of the old nobles...

But regardless, they could understand the parts that directly affected their interests: the first-place group in the daily work competition would get meat, while the second and third place groups could eat their fill of bread dipped in meat broth.

Those whose work performance was average would only receive bland vegetable soup and black bread. Although both could be eaten to satiety, for those who didn't get to eat meat in the "tent-pitching competition" on the first day, the feeling of drinking soup while others ate stew was something they never wanted to experience again.

Whether the fantastical-sounding promotion and wage systems were real or not, at least the fact that the lord provided meat had been proven true.

So, on the second day at the campsite, Heti witnessed a sight of labor she had never seen before – whether commoners or serfs, they all worked as if possessed, completing their tasks at lightning speed even without overseers standing by. Furthermore, since the work was divided into groups rather than individual efforts, they unconsciously began to coordinate their work, further increasing efficiency.

Most of those chosen as group leaders quickly realized that if they wanted to eat meat, the only way was to improve the efficiency of the entire group, ensuring everyone in the group could eat meat. The few who were slow-witted and became leaders through brute force or cunning would likely be replaced quickly.

It was incredible – not driven by the lash, but by competition and rewards.

The tents were already set up, and Rebecca had led some people to survey the nearby wasteland. The logging group had set off early in the morning for the felling point upstream of the White Water River. By noon, a batch of timber would arrive downstream in the open and flat section along the White Water River. To prevent the logs from being washed away by the river, Heti had handed over the patrol duties to Knight Byron before the agreed-upon time, and she herself went to the riverbank to receive them.

At the appointed time, the first batch of timber appeared, tied into rafts with thick ropes. Larger logs were placed below, and smaller logs were piled haphazardly on top and secured. From a distance, it looked like a large, ugly clump of dead branches floating on the river. Two nervous serfs stood on the raft, using long poles to control the raft's trajectory. The current of the White Water River was very slow in this section, and there was no wind or waves today, but the hastily assembled raft was inherently difficult to control. With the slightest carelessness, it could even fall apart entirely, leaving them no choice but to be nervous.

However, the two serfs soon discovered that the raft was smoothly approaching the shallow beach beside them. A giant, semi-transparent hand appeared on one side of the raft. The hand, formed of air, was gently but powerfully pushing the raft towards the shore. One of the serfs involuntarily exclaimed in surprise, but the other quickly hit the fool on the head with his pole and pointed at Madam Heti standing on the riverbank.

They quickly cooperated with their mistress to pole the raft towards the shore, allowing it to drift onto the gravel and stop steadily.

Then, the people waiting on the shore rushed forward, untied the ropes, dragged the logs, and prepared to turn them into the temporary housing the camp would build next.

Originally, the timber would need a series of processes such as air-drying and pest removal before becoming qualified and durable lumber. However, since many of the facilities to be built in the camp were temporary and they were in a hurry, they couldn't be too particular.

Gawain stood behind Heti, lost in thought, "Magic is truly convenient..."

Heti, who had just caught her breath, was startled by the voice behind her, almost falling off the rock – luckily, Gawain caught her.

"S-sorry..." the lady apologized flusteredly, "I didn't expect you to be standing behind me..."

"I startled you," Gawain waved his hand dismissively, "By the way, that move you just did was quite good?"

Heti blushed slightly, "Sculpting Hand is a very basic spell. I've practiced its super-magic technique, so the duration can be longer. This way, as long as I keep pushing, even very heavy rafts can be guided to the shore. However, if the current were any faster, it wouldn't be possible..."

Although Gawain was a knight, everyone in the pioneering era had been forced to become naturalists. He had some theoretical knowledge in the field of magic. Despite Heti's simple explanation, he knew that strengthening a basic Sculpting Hand to this extent and specifically practicing super-magic for it was not an easy feat – and also very rare.

"I... I don't have much magical talent," Heti's face became even more shy upon hearing Gawain's question. "Although I awakened mana affinity at a very young age, my mental power condenses very slowly, and I can't construct overly complex magic models. So, even now, I'm just a third-level mage, and I'll probably stay at this level for the rest of my life. I can only strengthen those elementary spells repeatedly."

"Rebecca's magical talent doesn't seem very high either..." Gawain frowned, thinking of his stubborn great-great-great... granddaughter who could conjure four types of Fireball Spells.

"Her total mana is very large, and her mental strength is also very strong, but she encounters similar problems to me when constructing magic models, or even worse," Heti lowered her head. "She can only master one Fireball Spell, or a Great Fireball Spell similar to the Fireball Spell magic model. In fact, she's a very hardworking child. She knows herself that her talents aren't great – she's neither a good lord nor a good mage. Although she seems carefree usually, she actually knows it and has been secretly working hard. But there's nothing she can do; the limitation of talent is a limitation, a wall that's hard to cross."

Saying this, she sighed softly, "So, when I saw that Wild Mage's notes, I also sighed with emotion... He's not an exception. This situation is actually very common among fallen mages. Their ability to construct magic models can't keep up with their theoretical level, so they can only be low-level spellcasters for their entire lives. For pragmatic mages, if they can't convert the calculation processes in their minds into usable spells, then everything is zero..."

"No," Gawain's voice suddenly interrupted her.

Heti didn't immediately understand, "What?"

"If only being able to conjure a fireball or an ice arrow by yourself is considered 'practical,' then there's not much difference between a mage wielding a staff and a monkey wielding a wooden stick," Gawain shook his head. "Formulas aren't zero; they are a one in front of countless zeros. You just haven't found the position of the decimal point..."

Heti frowned, "I... I don't quite understand. If I can't realize the formulas in my mind through magic models, then what's the use of knowing all that theoretical knowledge? Can it be used to fight people?"

"One day you will understand that 'being able to fight people' is not the only criterion for evaluating a mage, and it shouldn't even be the main criterion," Gawain smiled. "I've already sent someone to ride to Tanzan Town to inform Knight Philip to purchase some additional items. When the main force arrives, your magic laboratory can also be set up."

"Magic laboratory?" Heti was stunned for a moment, and then her brow furrowed, "Those things are very expensive, especially in the initial stages..."

"I've taken a few mithril ingots from the Mountain Treasury. They are not coins and don't need to be recast. They can be used as hard currency directly when purchasing magical items, enough to equip you with a basic set. I know your original magic laboratory in the castle was completely destroyed, but we must establish a new laboratory as soon as possible."

Heti remembered the task Gawain had assigned her earlier.

"Understood! Once the Crystal Resonator arrives, I'll make copies of all the rune structure diagrams you requested!" Heti couldn't help but laugh. Although she felt a pang of regret for the mithril ingots, as a mage, how could she not be happy to have her own magic laboratory again? And as the saying goes, a son selling his father's property doesn't feel the pain...

Is there a problem with the ancestor giving his great-great-great... granddaughter some pocket money to buy a set of experimental equipment? Absolutely not!

Alright, this statement might not be suitable for the steady, reliable, and mature Heti, but it would definitely fit Rebecca.

When there's spare capacity, should she also get that stubborn little girl a magic laboratory? Although she'd likely only research Fireball Spells in it...

With her thoughts already drifting, Gawain returned to his tent, preparing to study those peculiar crystals.