Chapter 69: J*b
"Get up!" Edgar said, pulling the old man back to his feet. "You have work to do."
Sir Steven remained frozen for a long moment. Then the blacksmith inside him awoke.
The shock in his eyes was replaced by pure fascination.
He slowly walked through the workshop, his fingers brushing against the smooth stone walls.
His gaze wandered from one corner to another with increasing disbelief.
Everything had been arranged with unbelievable precision.
"H-how...?" he whispered. "How is this place so perfect?"
He hurried toward the largest furnace and crouched beside it. His fingers traced the firebricks before moving to the chimney.
Edgar looked at the old man, who was both fearful and tearful at the end product.
’...Well, this was a blueprint I got from killing a Nightmare and wasn’t made by me.’
Perhaps that was why it looked so perfect through the eyes of a blacksmith.
After half an hour of restlessly moving around, the old man finally turned his gaze back to Edgar.
"What do you need me to create, Young Master?"
Edgar smiled and began explaining everything that he needed for his future plans.
---
After spending another hour with the blacksmith, Edgar was finally free from all the work.
Andrew was with the new workers, guiding them as they fed the ⟨Tower of Souls⟩.
Old man Oswald was busy with the farmers and the production of food.
And finally, Viera was teaching a group of young girls how to cook.
With a small smile, Edgar folded his arms and looked around calmly.
’Finally, I can outsource all my work and be truly free.’
For the first time since arriving in this cursed world, he wasn’t the one doing everything himself.
A strange feeling of accomplishment rose inside him.
He had gone from living alone in a broken Fortress to leading nearly a hundred people in less than a month.
’Not a bad month, I must say.’
After having some time to himself, Edgar walked back to his old house, which was occupied by Hera and her maid.
He pushed open the wooden door and stepped inside. The house was much quieter than the bustling Fortress outside.
Walking slowly, he reached his room and, with a knock, opened the door.
He immediately noticed Lady Reeba sitting beside the bed, carefully peeling a fruit with a small knife.
When she heard the door open, she quickly stood up.
"Young Master."
Edgar gave a small nod before shifting his gaze toward the bed.
The young lady, Hera, was quietly sitting on the bed with her head resting on her knees.
Her gaze was fixed outside, where children were playing and laughing.
"...How are you feeling?" Edgar asked.
The girl remained silent for several seconds.
"...Better."
There was a strange emptiness in her voice that Edgar didn’t like.
With a sigh, he sat down on a chair and leaned back, relaxing his body.
Last night, he had spent most of his time on top of the patrol path and had only slept for a while in old man Oswald’s house.
’Come to think of it, there are too many old people in the Fortress.’
Given that death was really common because of the harsh environment, most young people died very early.
Those who survived were either veterans or cowards.
Hera slowly turned her head and looked at Edgar, who was seated nearby.
Her emerald eyes were fixed on him as though she had never seen him before.
"...What?" Edgar tilted his head.
"...Why are you here?"
"To know how you’re doing," Edgar replied with a shrug. "I can’t have you die on me."
Hera stared blankly at Edgar before letting out a tiny, exhausted laugh through her nose.
She closed her eyes and hid her face behind her hair. "...Why are you doing this for me?"
Edgar had no response. He could only look away from her.
The silence stretched between them for a long while before Edgar stood up with a sigh.
"I will give you one more day to recover," he said clearly. "From tomorrow onward, you will work like everyone else."
The young lady looked up at him with a bewildered expression. "Work?"
"Yes, a j*b," Edgar replied while rapping his knuckles against her forehead. "You really think this house and food are free, huh?"
Hera rubbed her forehead where he had flicked her. "...You flicked me."
"I did."
She stared at him in disbelief. "I’m a patient."
"And?"
"..."
For some reason, she couldn’t find the words to argue.
"You don’t have anyone to pamper you, lady," Edgar said, turning around. "Get your ass out of bed and start earning."
Hera looked at his back in disbelief and anger until he vanished beyond the hallway.
Edgar walked out of the house and toward the patrol path on the Fortress Wall.
The reason he was forcing her to work was so she could keep her mind away from all the negative thoughts.
It would be best for her if she stopped thinking about the past and focused on the future.
’And I can’t just let another laborer live here for free.’
The blonde boy thought as he walked on top of the Fortress Wall, where he quickly found Sir Gordon.
The young-looking old man walked toward him with a small smile. "How can I help you, my lord?"
’I am not your lord,’ Edgar thought before shaking his head.
He placed his hand over the battlement and asked seriously, "How do two rival clans fight a war, Gordon?"
If there was one thing Edgar knew, it was that war was second nature to humans.
It was embedded in them to kill others for stupid reasons.
But this world was different, where the night was so dangerous that people couldn’t even travel through it.
The unique setting of this world made him wonder...
How did people wage wars then?
’There is no way humans haven’t developed a unique way to fight.’
Gordon’s easygoing expression quickly grew serious. "Why are you asking that, my lord?"
Just as Edgar was about to reply, the loud neigh of a horse made him look down.
From the dense murky grey-black fog, a carriage was quickly approaching the Fortress.
A carriage bearing the insignia of the Northern Sect.
Edgar turned to look at Gordon, who was glaring at the carriage.
The blonde boy patted his shoulder and said, "That’s why."
He then turned his gaze toward the soldier standing beside the lever.
"Open the gate!" Edgar yelled.
"Let them in!"