The Events of That Day

Frederick had been worrying about one problem: the newly built village needed a large number of draft horses for plowing and hauling carts.

By tradition, the draft horses in a village belonged to the lord or some wealthy landowner. Other villagers had to pay rent to borrow them when needed.

Horses weren't cheap. A luxurious warhorse could cost over a hundred Florin Gold Coins, a first-rate warhorse went for around eighty Florins, and even a timid riding horse cost ten. An ordinary draft horse could be brought home for just one Florin, while a sturdy one cost two.

A village couldn't make do with just one draft horse. The total cost was enough to give Frederick a headache. First, he didn't have enough money. Second, there probably weren't that many horses for sale on the market. Third, there wouldn't even be enough pasture to feed them in the near future. That was why he had set his sights on an excavator.

Now the excavator was out of the question too. Frederick thought it over and decided he would have to settle for the next best thing.

Once again, he used his Mental Power to shape Light Element into a model. This time, it was much simpler: it would use the deformation of "Artificial Muscle" to replace the cylinder in a single-cylinder internal combustion engine.

This engine had plenty of drawbacks, but when there was no better option, having something that worked was good enough.

The engine would drive a winch at the edge of a field through gears. Ropes on the winch would pull a plow cart or seed drill equipped with several plowshares. Once the cart had been pulled from one end of the field to the other, that strip of land would be plowed. It was more efficient than draft horses.

It could also power water-lifting wheels and small mills for grinding flour, among other things. It was far more versatile than a draft horse.

Aumert thought for a moment before saying, "In theory, we can build this machine. We can use the cheapest Magic Muscle. It has enough power, and it isn't expensive. There shouldn't be a problem with mass production."

"But it has a drawback shared by all Magic Muscle: when used at high frequency for long periods, it overheats badly and eventually burns out."

"Since it's controlled by magic power, there's no way to cool it with magic."

Frederick wasn't very familiar with this material. He had only spent the last few days studying the newly moved Golem Puppets, so he didn't feel qualified to offer an opinion.

"Why not just pour water on it?" Manuel suddenly said. "Have someone nearby fetch water and pour it over now and then to cool it down. What's the big deal?"

Aumert fell silent, then finally said, "That would work. I'll have someone test it tomorrow."

Frederick was speechless too. Then he made arrangements. "We can prioritize this machine. If it works well, we might be able to sell it for ten times what it costs to make."

Aumert immediately perked up.

They discussed a few other matters, and the meeting ended half an hour before dinner.

Frederick and the others simply stayed there chatting until it was time to go to the dining hall.

Somehow, the conversation turned to something that made Ah Fu sigh deeply. "Sigh... Why is the King targeting us?"

The meeting room fell silent. No one else could make sense of it either.

"It's simple," Richard Nahl said gravely. "His Majesty William came away empty-handed from last year's war, and the other nobles in the country are deeply dissatisfied with him."

"But although Henry fell in battle, his final stand earned him great renown. William grew jealous."

Everyone from the Wessen Territory turned their eyes to Richard Nahl.

They knew roughly how Old Count Weissen had died in battle, but they knew nothing about the details.

Richard Nahl fell silent for a moment, then looked Frederick straight in the eyes. "You were bound to learn some things sooner or later. I didn't tell you earlier because I was afraid you'd act rashly. What could an eight-year-old child do?"

"But you've turned out to be more mature than I expected. So I'll tell you."

Frederick and the others grew solemn, waiting for Richard Nahl to continue.

"I learned of Henry's death in a theater in the Kingdom of Gaul." Richard Nahl's words shocked everyone.

He continued in a grave voice, "It was an opera celebrating Henry's bravery, honor, and sacrifice. The villain was Juste of the Kingdom of Gaul."

"Juste?" Manuel exclaimed. "You mean Lord Juste, the God of Magic and head of the Royal Mage Corps of Gaul?"

Richard Nahl nodded and continued, "That day, Juste led the raid on the supply camp Henry and his men were guarding. It held military provisions that had just been shipped from home. If they were destroyed, the troops at the front would go hungry, and the war would be over."

"At first, Juste didn't join the fight. He simply dismantled the camp's defensive magic in the shortest time possible. Then the Royal Knight Order and the Royal Mage Corps attacked the camp."

At that point, Richard Nahl picked up his teacup and drained it. Then he looked at Ah Fu and asked, "There's something you haven't told Frederick, is there?"

Ah Fu answered respectfully, "Before Lord Henry left for the campaign, he said that if he didn't return, Frederick could only see that thing after he had a child of his own."

Frederick froze, the corner of his mouth twitching. Could it be something like 'If you want to master this skill, first castrate yourself'? His dad had already started growing a beard before leaving for the campaign. Frederick had even plucked some hairs to play with—they weren't fake.

Richard Nahl glanced at Frederick and said, "It's a spell the Weissen Family acquired many years ago, one that burns life force to increase strength. It's no secret anymore. Many people know about it."

Everyone from the Wessen Territory except Frederick nodded. Franz said, "That's right. I learned it too."

Richard Nahl continued, "Back then, Henry and his eleven knights used the spell. Their strength doubled, and their first charge frightened an enemy force five times their size."

"None of them hesitated or faltered in the fighting that followed. Quite a few died alongside their enemies."

"Juste joined the battle, and Henry was quickly suppressed. Juste offered him the entire Lowlands in an attempt to persuade him to surrender."

"Henry's answer was to burn through the rest of his life force. He caught Juste off guard and nearly killed him."

"Before coming here, I went to see Juste and looked at his injuries. They were serious. He nearly died, and it'll take him several years to recover."

"He said that, at that moment, Henry's strength was no less than mine. If he'd had half a breath more, Juste would have lost his life."

Richard Nahl looked at Frederick and said seriously, "Juste asked me to tell you that if you want revenge, he'll be waiting."

Psyche picked up the thread, cradling her teacup as she spoke. "The spell can be stopped at any time. As long as the caster survives, the life force consumed can be slowly recovered later."

"They might not return to their peak, but they'll be able to go on living."

The meeting room fell silent for a long while. Frederick, Ah Fu, and the others wiped away their tears from time to time. Franz leaned back in his chair and gazed up at the ceiling, quietly reciting a prayer to the Church of Light.

Manuel sighed. As long as nobles surrendered on the battlefield, they were given the treatment they were entitled to. Once their families sent the Redemption Payment, they could go home.

In wars these days, countless soldiers often died, while the nobles came through without a scratch. In recent years, there had been almost no nobles like Count Henry von Weissen and his knights, who fought to the death out of a sense of duty.

Manuel confirmed once again that their King was a fool. A loyal subject like Henry deserved generous rewards for his orphaned child and to be held up as an example—not for the crown to scheme at every turn to seize his territory.

The people of the Kingdom of Gaul admired everything noble: romance, bravery, loyalty, and all the other fine virtues. It was no surprise that a model such as Henry von Weissen was welcomed there.

Even if he had been an enemy on the battlefield, as the people of Gaul said, noble qualities knew no sides.

Manuel jotted down a few lines in his notebook. He would make arrangements once he got back.

Frederick stared silently at the tabletop for a long while. When he finally raised his head, he said to Richard Nahl, "Master, please tell Juste that I'll settle our score on the battlefield."

Then he turned to the people of the Wessen Territory and said solemnly, "This grudge... I won't spare a single one of them."

The fact that the supply camp had been raided was strangely short on details in accounts from the Rhine Alliance. There was probably something hidden behind it.

From the very beginning, Frederick had kept in mind that every world had its clever people. He couldn't assume the other side was stupid just because he was a transmigrator.

But a series of recent events seemed to be telling him that he might have been wrong.