The Military Supply Warehouse

The military supply warehouse stored not only military supplies but also spoils of war!

Although the elves had helped Nether repel the Orcs, Nether hadn't disbanded its army afterward. On the contrary, it had continued expanding it year after year. Of course, Giles Academy's support had been indispensable.

Every year, more than half of the graduating students joined the legions, becoming either junior squad captains or accompanying mages. Their terms of service were at least five years, as stipulated by the contracts they had to sign before enrollment.

After all, anyone capable of becoming a spellcaster couldn't be lacking in intelligence, and their strength went without saying. Even if they knew only one or two spells of Prestidigitation, they were still stronger than ordinary people and could greatly improve the overall strength of the legions.

As for why spellcasters were being sent to serve as rank-and-file soldiers instead of doing research and advancing magical studies, the main reason was that Nether was poor. It simply couldn't support so many spellcasters.

Without the elves' funding, Nether's existing resources alone could never have supported the development of a human magical civilization. It was pure wishful thinking.

The facts were plain: Nether lay in a remote part of the North, its territory was small, and it had no resources worth exploiting. A third of the year was winter, and even the common folk at the bottom struggled to feed themselves, let alone study magic.

After most of the Orcs' main forces had been wiped out, the honeymoon between the elves and Nether was more or less over. The elves had plenty of internal conflicts of their own, and many among them had opposed supporting humanity from the start.

The main reason, of course, was that Nether was determined to develop its own magical civilization. (The real reason was that elven magic was too difficult to learn, and Nether had happened to find the Nether Scroll.)

The elves took one look.

"Oh, dear!"

This little brother wasn't being obedient. They immediately pulled all their international relief—er, support funds.

The instructors were withdrawn, the records burned, and any supplies that could be carried away were taken. Anything that couldn't be moved was destroyed on the spot!

Nether was like a young wife abandoned by her husband. The romantic promises, the vows of eternal love, and all the benefits pledged back then had vanished without a trace.

The elves' move nearly sent Nether back to square one overnight.

Just as Nether was on the verge of descending into chaos, Concinnio advanced to legendary rank. He then used his overwhelming might to suppress the unrest and successfully redirected the country's internal conflicts outward.

Only then did everyone realize that there didn't seem to be any particularly powerful 'players' left on the whole continent. At least here in the North, Nether could now be considered a regional 'powerhouse'!

After the Crown Wars and the Orc invasions, the entire continent of Faerûn was in an extremely chaotic state. The elves had fought among themselves until they were at each other's throats. Eventually, they realized that fighting like that wasn't working and switched to arguing instead.

The Orcs had been driven back, and their main forces were largely scattered across Faerûn. They could no longer pose a threat and were reduced to banditry and raiding.

The Dwarves had dug out their mountain halls. Some hid in the hills, while others retreated underground. Rumor had it that they, too, later fell to infighting and division. But the Dwarves weren't as destructive as the elves. They didn't routinely shatter continents and reshape the landscape. Most of their fighting was hand-to-hand, making their battles relatively 'gentle.'

As for the other races, they had either been dragged into the Crown Wars or plundered by the Orcs. Every notable race had been caught up in the turmoil, and their high-level combatants had been wiped out.

Under the elves' protection, Nether had managed to survive. Not only had it preserved its strength, but it had grown stronger.

With the several 'big shots' out of action and back home nursing their wounds, it would have been unreasonable for their little brother not to seize the opportunity and grab a few benefits.

Expand the territory, earn a little extra...

Of course, they couldn't do it openly, or their 'big brother' would be displeased. Even while recovering, the elves could easily keep Nether in line with one hand.

They couldn't let anyone get a hold over them, right?

Clearing new land was a good solution.

There was no need to disband the legions. The academy's students were simply sent out.

And so, a large-scale scavenging operation was officially launched!

That's right. Back then, they used scavenging as a pretext to claim territory.

Five years of study at the academy was generally enough. The truly gifted could distinguish themselves, like Count Ioulaum and Hussein. The people who now held the most power and influence in Nether had all come into their own during that period.

With spellcasters leading the way, bandits and outlaws were much easier to deal with. Whenever possible, they were recruited; otherwise, they were killed. The spoils had to be turned over, of course, but there was plenty of room for maneuver. In the end, it came down to what each person could manage.

The many different families and magical secrets in Nether today all dated back to that era.

Although anything truly valuable would be 'skimmed off the top,' at least the meat stayed in the pot. Besides, Nether didn't need those 'high-level' things at the time. Ordinary swords and armor, even abandoned baggage and supplies, were what Nether needed.

That was why the legions had essentially supported all of Nether back then. Besides standard equipment, they brought back damaged weapons and supplies abandoned on battlefields, as well as broken magical devices. These were repaired and studied in Seventon, then put back into use by the legions. That was what brought Nether back from the brink of collapse.

Nether had managed to scrape through its hardest years by picking up scraps. And the opportunity that set the stage for its later rise had come during that very period.

Humans who had fled the interior, along with Tieflings, Genasi, and members of other races, were 'picked up' by Nether...

Of course, the process may not have been entirely harmonious, and it was never recorded. The relevant files had even been ordered destroyed by Lord Concinnio...

Borne wasn't interested in that part of history. His target was the 'treasures' that had accumulated in the warehouse over the past two hundred years.

Yes, the 'spoils' brought back by the legions!

Don't underestimate these 'spoils'!

Nether had survived the initial 'magical wasteland' thanks to these 'spoils.'

Going from nothing to something, from zero to one—that was the hardest part.

Many people thought Nether had built its magical empire on the Nether Scroll alone. But without concrete examples to compare against or materials to experiment with, the knowledge in the scrolls was nowhere near enough to build anything.

As it happened, Nether lacked simple magical devices and products of magical industry. Truly high-level magical items were rarely lost; even when damaged, they were recovered. Only low-level devices, or those that could be mass-produced, were considered expendable.

Those simple, low-level magical devices were exactly what Nether needed. Although elven magic and craftsmanship were too obscure for humans to understand, the principles were the same. After all, copying was much easier than creating something new!

East District, Trade Market.

This was Nether's largest trade market, and also where the military warehouses were located.

Even in the depths of winter, the place remained bustling. Vendors of all sizes called out their wares, and among them were quite a few adventurers and spellcasters.

When they saw Borne wearing Giles Academy's uniform, many merchants came over to introduce their products. Borne immediately became interested, feeling as if he'd gone to a market fair in his previous life.

Most of the wares were magical plants used in basic spell experiments. At Borne's current level, he could tell at a glance whether they were good or bad.

Most were of uneven quality. Either they hadn't been stored properly, or their properties had been damaged during harvesting.

Borne shook his head to himself. In the early stages of civilization, many industries developed haphazardly. It was unavoidable.

Still, ordinary people could now more or less identify magical plants and even perform simple processing. The methods were crude beyond belief, but it was a sign that civilization was progressing.

In the early stages of development, civilization needed not only the contributions of a handful of people at the top but also a great deal of manpower and resources to support it.

After making a full circuit, Borne had still managed to buy a few good things.

There were no scenes like in movies and dramas, with buyers and sellers testing each other's wits for ages over a single item. Prices were marked in advance. You priced an item at what you thought it was worth. If the price was too low, you could only blame your poor judgment; if it was too high and nobody bought it, you were stuck with it.

Of course, haggling was also an option, as long as both parties agreed.

After another circuit, Borne made his way to the military warehouse. He presented the Lehman Trading Company insignia, which was checked against the records, and was soon allowed inside.

It was called a warehouse, but it looked more like a department store. There were quite a few people inside, including several spellcasters in robes.

Borne's arrival attracted some attention. When they noticed the Giles Academy uniform he was wearing, they just smiled. A few others, however, decided to test their luck and approached him to say hello.

"Hello. Can I help you?"

Borne looked him up and down. A broker, huh? This job really exists everywhere.

"Thanks. I'm just here to look around and broaden my horizons."

Then the man noticed the ring on Borne's hand, and his expression changed. He bowed slightly and said in a low voice, "Sorry to have disturbed you!"

Then he turned and walked away.

"Wait..."

Borne was surprised by how quickly the man had left, so he called out to him. The man stopped.

"Do you have any unusual items? I mean, things from other races..."

The man thought it over, then pointed to the right. "Head in that direction. The twenty-seventh shelf should have something that interests you."

"Oh, thanks."

As he spoke, Borne flicked his thumb. A gold coin landed in the man's hand, and before the man could react, Borne was already heading in the direction he'd indicated.

The man looked at the coin in his hand, then up at Borne's retreating back, and bowed slightly.

"There really is a lot of stuff..."

Borne walked along, looking around and feeling his horizons broaden. He couldn't identify ninety percent of the items, and some he couldn't even figure out the purpose of. There were plenty of duplicates, too, and it was clear that some weren't made for human use.

Some still held traces of magical radiance. Borne picked one up and examined it. It looked like a fragment of some kind of item. What was interesting was the pattern on it, which seemed to be part of some unknown magic circle. Even though only a small section remained, a faint trace of magic still flowed through it.

He put the fragment back where it belonged and continued browsing. There were quite a few things that interested him, but nothing he intended to buy.

Soon, he reached the twenty-seventh shelf the broker had mentioned.

The items displayed there were short swords shaped like daggers, along with a few large hammers.

"Dwarves?"

Borne picked up one of the short swords. It was unexpectedly heavy. Then he tried lifting the hammer beside it with one hand, but even that was a struggle.

Borne was a professional now. Although he was a spellcaster, his physical fitness was still far beyond that of an ordinary person.

He ran a finger along the short sword's edge. It had a few notches, but it was still very sharp. This was clearly a weapon that had seen 'many battles,' and it had only chipped—not bent.

There were quite a few weapons of this sort nearby. It was clear that they were rare among the Dwarves.

"I see..."

Nether did have Dwarven weapons. In fact, a large portion of its weapons and armor were now purchased from the Dwarves. That was especially true after the Black Road had opened: Danzor Dwarven weapons had completely outclassed Nether's local products.

Borne had seen Danzor Dwarven weapons, and they were clearly far inferior to the ones in his hands. Perhaps the Dwarves considered these weapons defective—so worthless they weren't even worth reforging.

"We were taken for suckers..."

Borne sighed softly. If he hadn't known how history would unfold, he would have thought Nether had no future, too.

"That guy..."

Borne glanced back the way he'd come, then raised his brows and looked slightly upward. He murmured, "The weapons business does seem pretty profitable. But... now isn't the time."

Then he continued browsing and gradually came across quite a few more good items.

"Elemental crystal core."

"This is dragon hide, right? It's actually white. A Chromatic Dragon's..."

"Good grief... They even have severed limbs here. No, the crystal encasing it is a seal. Hmm? This violent, chaotic feeling... Is this a demon's arm?"

After setting down the sealed crystal, Borne turned and left without hesitation.

When the warehouse manager saw Borne come out empty-handed, he looked quite surprised.

It wasn't unheard of for someone to leave empty-handed, but Borne was the first person to do so on his very first visit.

Once he was outside, Borne glanced back at the military supply warehouse, then strode away without looking back.

Giles Academy, Wizard Tower.

An assistant in a mage's robe had barely stepped into the room when he heard two hearty laughs from within. He stopped for a moment, then pushed open the door and entered.

In the corner of his eye, a mirror image was slowly fading away. The image had shown what looked like a warehouse, somewhere he felt he'd seen before.

"Sir, the experiment is ready." The young assistant bowed slightly, then turned and bowed again. "Good day, Count."

Count Ioulaum nodded slightly. "Valkyri, while we're at the academy, I'd prefer you to call me 'sir'!"

"My apologies, sir!"

Valkyri said apologetically.