Chapter 81: The Seed of Subjugation
Krag drained the last drop from his wooden bowl, staring down at the empty bottom with a look of pure devotion before raising his eyes toward Kellar.
"Is there any more of this, Shaman?" said Krag.
"No," said Kellar. "To make more, I need to ferment several extra barrels first and then distill them."
"What does distill mean?" said Krag, his brow furrowing in confusion.
"Don’t worry about that, I will teach you the process when the time comes," said Kellar.
At that exact moment, a crisp chime echoed inside his head:
[Ding!]
[Congratulations! You have introduced high-quality alcohol to the Overlord Tribe.]
[Reward: Primitive Still Blueprint]
A detailed schematic unfolded before Kellar’s vision, displaying an optimized distillation setup designed to be constructed using local resources: fired clay, hollowed wooden pipes, and carved bone connectors.
Before he could examine the structure further, a new notification flashed across his sight:
[New Quest: Build your first still]
[Objective: The populace needs entertainment to be controlled. The Overlord Tribe remains in a state of chaos and confusion; they need a way to unwind. Hand them the opium of the masses... beer.]
[Rewards: 2 Tech Points]
"On second thought, we need the people to be happy and drink contentedly," said Kellar, dismissing the panel with a flick of his mind.
He turned toward Krag and gestured for him to follow. Kellar led him toward an open area closer to the forest line, well clear of the cramped residential huts. Coming from an advanced world, he understood the fundamental importance of separating industrial processing from living quarters. Using his own residence as a central midpoint with a massive yard reserved for future expansions, he designated the exact layout for the new facility, dividing it into two distinct sections: the fermentation hall and the distillation workshop.
Kellar pulled a piece of smooth stretched leather from his pouch and picked up a piece of charcoal. With quick, precise strokes, he drew the schematic provided by the system blueprint, marking the exact positions of the fired-clay stills, storage racks, and hollowed-wood piping.
Krag stared down at the intricate drawing, scratching the back of his head in bewilderment.
"Forgive our poor skills, Shaman, but this looks far too complicated for us to build," said Krag.
"You’re right, this requires proper coordination," said Kellar, scanning the assembled crowd. "Bring Mentz here."
Mentz, who was standing near the back of the gathered crowd, gasped in shock upon hearing his name called out. He had never spoken to the new shaman, nor had he expected a person of such high status to even know who he was.
Sensing every eye in the village turn toward him, Mentz nervously pushed through the crowd and approached Kellar, trembling slightly with timid fear as he bowed low.
Kellar looked down at the trembling man, his expression calm.
"You have done a great job, and I’ve seen how well you manage the workers," said Kellar. "So I want to know if you are willing to work for this tribe with your heart and soul."
"My heart is willing, Shaman, but my body cannot," said Mentz, looking down at his missing leg with a faint, bitter smile. "I am just a man without a leg. How useful can I really be to you?"
"I don’t need a man who can perform physical labor, but someone who can direct it," said Kellar. "Your power will be in your mouth. You will tell them what they need to do, guiding them to carry out my words. What do you say?"
"If the Shaman truly believes in this old man, then I will take the position without shame," said Mentz, bowing his head until it touched the cold ground. "I will dedicate my remaining life to fulfilling your orders."
"Good. From today onward, I name you Chief Builder," said Kellar.
A familiar chime sounded inside his mind:
[Ding!]
[Title Granted (2/3): Chief Builder].
Kellar handed the marked leather to Mentz. "Take a close look at this schematic," said Kellar. "This will be our brewery and distillation hall. Set it up away from the residential zone, right near the edge of the forest. The structure must be split into two separate sections: the fermentation room and the distillation workshop."
"I understand," said Mentz, holding the leather with careful hands. "I will assign our best woodworkers to hollow out the wooden pipes and have the potters craft the clay vessels according to these exact measurements."
"Make sure the ventilation is handled properly," said Kellar. "We will be burning fires continuously to boil the mash, so build sturdy smoke outlets near the roof."
"It will be done exactly as you command, Shaman," said Mentz.
"Beyond this brewery, your main priority remains the residential expansion," said Kellar, gesturing toward the timber piles stacked in the central yard. "Continue building proper timber houses until every single person in this tribe has a roof over their head. I don’t want anyone under my command suffering from the cold."
Off to the side, the inner circle of the previous shaman and chieftain could only watch in bitter silence as the prime building spots were handed over to the commoners and lower-class dwellers. They had once held total control over construction and resource distribution under the old rule, but the new shaman hadn’t given them so much as a second glance. Excluded and stripped of their authority, several of the displaced elites backed away from the crowd, exchanging hushed, dark whispers among themselves.
Kellar ignored the shift in the crowd’s energy, turning back to Krag to hand him the ingredient list extracted by his alchemy skill.
"Gather as much of these herbs and fruits as possible," said Kellar.
"Some of these should already be sprouting deeper in the forest since the first snows have just fallen," said Krag, reviewing the marked items. "However, most of these berries and roots only reach full maturity in the middle of winter, so we still have a bit of time. I remember gathering them for the old shaman, so I’ll send out scouting patrols immediately to monitor the patches and harvest them the moment they ripen."
"Good," said Kellar, looking out over the busy village as the sun began to sink below the horizon. "Make sure they don’t return empty-handed."