Rebuilding Carnford (1)

Karl took a deep breath and walked toward the damaged lord's fortress.

He pushed open the enormous wooden gate, which was barely hanging together and covered in wormholes and marks from blades, axes, and other weapons. A nauseating stench of old dust, mold, and some kind of decay that refused to dissipate rushed over him.

Karl had to wet his scarf and cover his nose and mouth before he could enter.

The inside was far more horrifying than it had appeared from outside. It was as though time had frozen on the day the fortress fell.

The entrance hall was a complete mess.

A skeleton clad in the kingdom's standard Chain Mail lay slumped beside the gate. A rusted Sauron curved blade was lodged between its ribs, while its own longsword had pierced the eye socket of another corpse wearing fur armor. Even in death, the two sides had remained locked in combat.

Broken shields, snapped spear shafts, and faded, tattered banners lay scattered across the floor.

After passing through the archway into the main hall, the scene grew even more brutal.

The spacious hall might once have been imposing, but now it had become a massive morgue and ruin.

More skeletons lay sprawled across the floor in various postures of battle or struggle. Some had been piled together, clearly having endured savage hand-to-hand combat.

The walls were covered in deep gashes from blades and axes, along with dense clusters of arrow holes. Large patches of black bloodstains were visible as well.

Several enormous long tables and chairs had long since been smashed or chopped apart, reduced to heaps of rotten wood.

A huge stone fireplace was stuffed with ashes and half-burned fragments of bone, while its inner walls were coated in black soot.

Karl reached the second floor, only to find that the enormous wooden main staircase leading up had been smashed in half from the middle by some heavy object, making it impassable.

Beneath the stairs and around the broken section, countless remains had likewise piled up. Many of the skeletons still had arrows sticking out of them or fragments of stone embedded in their bones. Clearly, they had suffered annihilation while fighting for control of the staircase.

Aside from the main staircase, there was also a narrow spiral stone stairway along the side. Though covered in cracks, its structure remained intact, and Karl carefully followed it upward.

The remains of fallen soldiers could be seen on the stone steps from time to time.

The second floor had once been the living quarters and contained various functional rooms.

The corridor was dim, with only faint light filtering through cracks in the walls and arrow holes.

Most of the doors on either side were damaged or collapsed, and the rooms beyond presented the same scenes of chaos and death.

In a room that might once have been a study, the books and parchment had long since rotted into sludge, mixing with dust and splintered wood. A skeleton in a scholar's robe lay facedown on the desk, its skull smashed.

Another room appeared to have been a bedroom. Its ornate four-poster bed had collapsed, while a female skeleton crouched in the corner, still clutching a much smaller skeleton in her arms.

The staircase leading to the third floor was even more badly damaged, almost completely blocked by rubble.

Karl barely managed to climb up, only to find a scene of utter devastation.

The third floor had clearly suffered the fiercest long-range bombardment, perhaps from Sauron catapults, Cannons, or some terrifying magic.

Most of the entire floor had collapsed. Huge blocks of stone and broken beams had smashed through the floor and fallen to the second story, forming a massive hole.

The remaining walls were covered in charred scorch marks and enormous impact craters.

Most of the bodies found here had been torn apart or crushed beneath boulders. The sight was utterly horrifying.

Clearly, this had once been the defenders' final command post or refuge, and it too had suffered the most merciless and destructive assault.

After seeing all this, Karl left the gloomy, oppressive interior of the fortress and returned to the sunlight.

He took a deep breath of the cold air, which nevertheless carried the vitality of life.

The ruins before him weighed heavily on his heart, but more urgent was creating the conditions for the living to survive.

Old Morrell immediately came over. His face still held a complicated expression, excitement and worry intertwined after surveying the city walls.

"Lord, should we begin rebuilding the main fortress immediately?"

In his view, the lord's castle was a symbol of power and rule. It was the foremost project for any Lord upon arriving in their territory, directly tied to their dignity and safety.

Karl, however, shook his head and swept his gaze over the severely damaged structure. "No, Morr. The main fortress is far too badly damaged. Rebuilding it will take far more than a day or two. Moreover, at this stage, its symbolic value far exceeds its actual defensive value. What matters most to us now isn't a castle that displays authority, but walls that protect everyone! Strong walls are the foundation of whether we can survive on this land."

He paused, then pointed toward the ruined barracks in the inner city and the displaced people huddled in the open spaces. "But before repairing the walls, we first need to give everyone—including our soldiers, slaves, and newly arrived people—a place to shelter from the wind and rain and withstand the cold. We plan to stay here permanently. We can't keep living in tents."

Upon hearing this, deep surprise flashed through Old Morrell's eyes before transforming into even greater admiration.

This young Lord considered problems from an angle entirely different from any noble he had ever known.

He was practical and clear-headed, placing the needs of the common people, soldiers, and even slaves before the symbolic significance of his position as Lord.

"You are absolutely right, Lord! This old man was too set in his ways. Then let's begin by building houses!"

Before long, Karl, Old Morrell, Hans, Vali, Firth, and several other craftsmen gathered together to discuss the design of the houses.

The soldiers could prioritize rebuilding the barracks, but housing three hundred slaves and more than twenty displaced people was a major problem.

They needed temporary shelters that could be built quickly, retain heat well, and use easily obtainable materials.

Karl proposed an idea. "Perhaps we could build semi-subterranean houses? Most of the space would be dug underground, while the aboveground section would use wooden frames covered with soil and thatch. They would be quick to build and mainly require wood and labor. The deeply buried section would also retain heat extremely well and withstand the bitter cold of the Northern Territory."

The craftsmen were stunned once again. "Semi-subterranean houses"?

This Lord actually understood civil-engineering knowledge like this? Just how many unknown abilities did he possess?

Old Morrell reacted the fastest and immediately nodded. "Lord, this is an excellent method! It is indeed perfect for our current situation!"

He promptly took out a charcoal pencil and the parchment he carried with him, quickly sketching a draft and marking details such as the excavation depth, support structure, ventilation, and entrances.

Once the plan was decided, they put it into action at once.

Karl handed the construction work over to the slave teams.

By now, these slaves no longer needed soldiers to supervise them harshly from the side.

Otto, Morgan, Fenn, and the other nine team captains had already established an effective management structure.

They loudly relayed orders, and the slaves worked with extraordinary effort. Not one of them slacked off.

They knew very well that working for this Lord would not only earn them full meals, but also tangible rewards and opportunities for advancement. Even the seemingly unreachable status of Freemen now appeared to offer them a glimmer of hope!

At the same time, Karl gave the soldiers another solemn and weighty task: clearing Carnford inside and out, especially the remains piled up around the fortress and the breaches in the walls.

The soldiers carried out the order in silence, cart after cart of pale bones being hauled down the hillside.

Karl specifically instructed them, "The Sauron corpses can simply be collected and disposed of together. But the remains of our soldiers from the Goldflower Kingdom must be treated with respect and properly buried! They died here fighting for the kingdom and to protect the people behind them. They were comrades we had never met, yet were connected to by blood. We absolutely cannot leave them exposed in the wilderness or bury them in the same grave as the enemy!"

The soldiers deeply agreed and carried out the order without the slightest negligence.

The Sauron remains were dumped directly into a huge pit, which soon became piled high like a mountain.

The remains of the kingdom's soldiers, however, were carefully sorted out. Even when their identities could not be determined, the soldiers did their best to piece together the incomplete limbs before wrapping them loosely in worn cloth.

One by one, row by row, they were neatly placed in another enormous grave that had been dug in advance. Their postures were solemn, as though a silent army were lining up to sleep forever.

After the burial, Karl personally ordered a rough but solid stone stele to be erected before the great mound where the kingdom's soldiers had been laid to rest.

A clerk with some knowledge of reading and writing carved a simple inscription into the stone:

Here rest the soldiers of the Carnford Fortress garrison in the Northern Territory of the Goldflower Kingdom.

They held their ground in despair and shed every last drop of blood for the kingdom and its people.

Their heroic spirits shall never perish, and their loyal bones shall endure forever.

—Erected with respect by Karl von Schmidt, successor, and all those who rebuilt this place

The simple ceremony was nevertheless filled with power.

All the soldiers who had taken part in the clearing and burial, along with the displaced people and slaves watching from a distance, silently observed everything.

An invisible cohesion and sense of belonging to this land quietly began to grow as they paid their respects to the dead.

With the ruins cleared and the dead laid to rest, a new life finally began to take root amid the ruins of Carnford—struggling, yet filled with hope.