
full image - Repost: An Otherworldly Scholar [LitRPG, Isekai] - Chapter 289 (from Reddit.com, An Otherworldly Scholar [LitRPG, Isekai] - Chapter 289)
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All roads led to Farcrest, for better or worse.I tried to focus my eyes on the harvest report, but the funny Ebrosian glyphs blurred and merged into each other. On the table, dozens of signet-sealed letters from all around the kingdom needed urgent reading. Farcrest’s relative remoteness gave me a small time buffer, but I couldn't leave the nobles waiting forever.I grabbed the letter opener Firana had given me for my birthday and broke the green seal of the Vedras tree. The neat handwriting led me to believe that Halessia, not Lord Vedras himself, had written the letter. The letter was long, with as many branches as the seal itself, but the deeper meaning was evident. Lord Vedras had lent me a small mountain of gold, and in return he wanted guns. Radio systems, railways, magically powered lathes, enchanted armor, steam engines, or any other appliances wouldn’t do. Vedras wanted guns.One reason to not give Vedras guns was my reluctance to have people shooting each other because of ducal quarrels. The other reason was that Herrans had also lent me another small mountain of gold. I couldn’t have my weapons be used to attack an ally.I opened a letter from Lady Herran. Vigdis had penned this letter herself, and it had a striking resemblance to the contents of Lord Vedras' letter. Vigdis Herran wanted guns. She did not want power drills, magically powered hammers, high-pressure ventilation systems, or smelters. She wanted guns.Of course, both letters assured me the guns were exclusively for defending themselves from the monster coming from the ruins of Cadria. Maybe, years ago, I would’ve agreed to their request, but now I was skeptical enough not to believe mere words. To keep my people safe, lying was the least I would do.In the past two years, at least a dozen rifles had been ‘misplaced’. By now, every self-respecting noble with a capable spy network knew the weapons’ design. They also knew every single rifle was user-locked.I scratched my chin. Vedras, in his letter, cited the Mariposa incident. Early that year, everyone below level ten had lost access to the System for fifteen minutes in an area of five kilometers on the outskirts of Mariposa. The event hadn't happened again anywhere in the kingdom since then. “I’ll send more marksmen.” I scribbled two identical letters.My support wasn’t completely altruistic either. Reducing my army size was a strategic decision. I feared that if I amassed enough force in Whiteleaf Valley, Byrne would target us for the summoning of the second Corrupted Ancient instead.I put the letters down and sealed them with my ring. The delicate design of the flower and the quill was imprinted on the wax. That would buy me at least three more months until the petitions resumed.Milly slammed the door of my office open, and I jumped in my seat.“Lady Firana is waiting on line four, and she says it’s urgent.”Dozens of terrifying scenarios flashed before my eyes as I followed the gnome through Whiteleaf’s city hall. The radio room looked like a file archive, but instead of documents on the shelves, there were dozens of thin metal plates engraved with runes. Of course, the equipment wasn’t a real radio but magically entangled plates. I had a vague idea how everything worked, but the entire facility was the brainchild of Lyra Jorn, Ginz, and a dozen Scholars from Farcrest and the Imperial Library.I snatched the headset from the table, hoping it was nothing serious.“Firana?” I asked.“I killed a dragon!”Milly and the other operators, most of them gnomes from Cadria, gave me curious looks. Usually, people talked to me through the radio when something terrible had happened somewhere. “Can you repeat that? "I think there is interference," I said into the mouthpiece.“I killed a dragon! A big one! Red!” Firana giggled on the other side of the line, her voice scratchy through the device.I raised my eyebrows, trying to picture the girl fighting a dragon in the skies.“Are you sure it wasn’t a wyrm?“No! It had four legs! I counted them!”I took a deep breath. Good news: dragon materials were extremely valuable. Bad news: a dragon had been lurking less than fifty kilometers from Farcrest. Good news: Firana had survived an encounter with a dragon. I shrugged. Two against one was good enough.I covered the mouthpiece with my hand and looked at the gnomes.“Firana killed a dragon,” I announced.The gnomes lost interest in my conversation and continued working.I imagined Firana fighting a dragon. It wasn’t a pleasant image, even after everything we have been through. Still, she sounded as if she wanted to be praised. I wondered if a parent should even praise their child for fighting a dragon—even if she won. Skipping the first fifteen years of parenting wasn’t doing me any favors.I couldn’t help but smile.“That’s my girl! Just… remind me not to argue with you in the future.”On the other side of the line, Firana giggled. Even if I said it as a joke, I wasn’t completely sure if I could defeat Firana without using my authority. The girl gained levels like married men gained weight. “How are things looking over there?” I asked.“Apart from the dragon, everything looks normal. There are more high-level monsters than there were last year. We found the hunting grounds of a pack of Fake Manticores… well, they technically found us,” Firana said, like she was talking about her weekend getaway with the girlies.“What about the secret mission?”Firana lowered her voice.“The mountain range is impossible to traverse. I don’t see how we could cut through the Farlands into Jorn territory.”I sighed. From the start I knew it was a pipedream, but I had to try. Having a direct connection to Stormvale and the Jorn Dukedom would be a tremendous relief to our economic standing. In the game of politics, good will wasn’t completely selfless, and Lord Vedras had helped us a lot. On top of lending me money, Vedras allowed Jorn and Kigrian merchant caravans to move freely through his territory to Farcrest. Without the royal family paying the bill, it was getting harder and harder to deny him a platoon worthy of rifles.But that wasn’t a problem for Firana.“Good job, kid. Will I be seeing you soon?” I asked.“Yes, we're on our way back. A dragon’s head is heavy, though.”“Say you are kidding, please.” I could almost see Firana grinning from ear to ear across the Deep Farlands.“We’ll see. Love you. Bye!”Before I could add anything else, she cut the connection. Static crackled through the headset. I put it back onto the nail on the wall, sat down in silence, and closed my eyes. Last night I’d only had a couple of hours of sleep, and my body had developed resistance to the Red Moss tea.The gnomes continued connecting calls across the marquisate like I wasn’t there. The advantage of being considered ‘one of the tribe’ was that they treated me like a regular human being, whereas the rest of the kingdom would panic to see the Runeweaver running on fumes.“Should I schedule a fifteen-minute power nap, sir?” Milly asked.I shook my head and psyched myself up. It was noon, the System hadn’t crashed down, no dukedom had decided to invade Farcrest, and there was no sign of Corrupted Ancients. Keeping a city protected and well fed wasn’t an easy task, but I was up to the damn challenge.I jumped to my feet and walked to the door.“Don’t work too hard! Leave something for tomorrow!” I said my usual farewell and left the radio room. All the gnomes in the room rolled their eyes. On my way out, I stumbled upon a couple of young Scholars chatting in the corridor while holding stacks of papers. I hoped those wouldn’t end up on my desk. I greeted them, and they bowed so hard their noses almost touched the floor. I wasn’t going to get used to that treatment any time soon. Still, no one took me seriously when I asked them to tone down their deference. Maybe I should have made it a decree.Avoiding the clerks the best I could, I grabbed a short-legged mountain horse from the stables and made my getaway for a peaceful, work-free lunch. The inhabitants of Whiteleaf Valley moved aside as I crossed the square. I greeted a couple of orcs I recognized from the first settlers. At least orcs treated me as an honorary warchief, nothing less, nothing more.Not so long ago, the cobbled riverwalk had been a dirt road. Old orcs, way past their fighting years, sat by the riverbank, looking at the young ones splashing in the water. It felt strange to realize that for some kids, the valley was the only home they knew.The city hall was located in Lower Whiteleaf, just a few meters past the old well where the first orc settlers had arrived five years ago. There were no tents in sight whatsoever. Lower Whiteleaf had grown in every direction, and no matter how hard Lyra and I had been trying to push the urban area into the southern outskirts, more and more houses seemingly spawned out of nowhere by the river.Lyra wasn’t happy that the best farmland was being used as a residential area, but managing people was as hard as sorting grains of sand. Still, we had a hospital and a House of Healing, two daycare centers, two big taverns, a basic school, a tall wooden tower to watch for fires, and an open-roof theater. Most of the civilian life happened in Lower Whiteleaf.Across the river, in High Whiteleaf, were all the water-powered industries and the railroad. There was not enough steel in Cadria to make a proper railway, so most of it was made of carved roots of the Forest Warden and enchanted regular logs. The railroad reached Farcrest to the south and the stone quarry in the northwest and forked towards the farmland past the town. We have plans to expand it into Vedras and Tagabirian territory in due time.I crossed the old bridge and climbed the slope. There was not a lot happening on High Whiteleaf apart from the sawmills, lathe workshops, and the manors up the slope, somewhat retired from the town. Lowell’s Manor served as my primary residence, while Whiteleaf Manor functioned as both an orphanage and a school for children aged twelve and older.After the destruction of Cadria and the subsequent scourge of the Corrupted Spawns, the kingdom was filled with wandering orphans, and many of them drifted into Farcrest and Whiteleaf.I reached Whiteleaf Manor. The twelve white oaks had grown tall and strong. The path was covered in dry white leaves. It looked like clean snow.Elincia was in the front yard playing with the little ones. I waved from afar. Even five-year-olds seemed to intuit I was an important person, and their play typically stopped as soon as I approached. They must’ve noticed the social cues from the non-gnome domestic workers. Kids were quick to pick up those details.Elincia left the kids behind with the orc nanny, a woman who was clearly a Teal Moon warrior given the tattoos covering her arm. I read the tattoos. She had defeated a Stone Golem territory and survived the fight with a Wendigo.I stopped the horse and jumped down.Elincia gave me a worried look.“Two envoys from Tagabiria arrived an hour ago. "Were we expecting their arrival?" she asked.“No. I'm not aware of anything like that. The elven king doesn’t want anything to do with me,” I replied, worried.Even with their king’s reluctance, Tagabirian elves loved sticking their noses in Whiteleaf.“Where are they?” I asked.“They sat in for Ginz’s class and should be waiting in your office now.”I closed my eyes, trying to remember the class schedule hanging in the manor’s kitchen. Ginz was giving a class in industrial machinery for future artisans to kids who wanted to get crafting classes. Why would the elves be interested in machinery now, of all times? It wasn’t like I had been hoarding them for myself.“Go.”Elincia grabbed the reins from my hand and took the horse to the stables while I entered Whiteleaf Manor. The place had been overrun by orphans. Everyone suddenly remembered the no-running-inside rule as soon as I entered. [Foresight] pinged my brain.I looked up. Nokti was sitting on the ledge of the rose window, her legs hanging four meters above the floor while she looked outside.“Hey! We have talked about this! You can’t be up there! It’s dangerous!”“I’m fineee! I won’t fall,” the girl said, rolling her eyes.I didn’t even know how she had gotten up there. The gap between the second-floor corridor and the window was considerable. The twins had no Classes yet, and they were a year away from their fifteenth birthday, so it wasn’t magic. Could snakefolk stick to the wall like geckos?“If you don’t come down this very moment, I will revoke your potato privileges!”“Do it! I don’t care!” the girl said.“I’ll feed you only barley and spinach, I swear!”Nokti frowned and looked through the window.I heard heavy boots behind me. Izabeka put her heavy wooden prosthetic hand on my shoulder.“I’ll deal with the insurgent. You go see the elves.”Nokti gave me a panicked look. She knew perfectly well that messing around with Izabeka Kiln would result in certain agony. I shrugged, like saying, ‘you caused this’. “Do we have a problem, Nokti?” Izabeka asked, and the other orphans laughed at the snakefolk kid’s troubles.I patted Izabeka’s shoulder as a silent thanks and continued my way into the orphanage. “Damned fourteen-year-olds, man, I swear,” I muttered with a smile.Part of me enjoyed the snake twins' shenanigans.Whiteleaf was rather lavish compared to Lowell’s manor. The walls had been recently painted, and clumps of soft multicolor lightstones hung from the ceiling every few meters. Holst and Lyra both had advised me to have a suitable place to receive ambassadors and envoys, even if it was an orphanage. I trusted my advisors, but I did it mostly for the kids to have a nice place to stay.The elves were in the waiting room of my study. There were two of them, dressed in the same beige and green traveling garb. One was old, with graying brown hair. The other was young, barely an adult, and his gold was undistinguishable from strands of gold. Messengers, not nobles. Probably System users. In the corner of the room was Willow dressed as a servant, holding an empty silver tray. The tea set was on the small table, still steaming. Good. They hadn’t been prowling around alone.“I wasn’t expecting you, gentlemen,” I greeted them.“Our king ordered us to relay you a message,” the older elf replied, directly to the point.I opened the door to my study and let the emissaries enter. For the past two years, I had been trying to form an alliance with Tagabiria. The Elven King disregarded my warnings about the second Corrupted Ancient every time I brought up the matter and refused my marksmen as an extra layer of defense. I had told him about the imminent failure of the System, that we needed an alternative path. I had tempted him with enchanted items and machines, but nothing had broken the ice or even earned me any goodwill.The path between Ebros and Tagabiria remained largely unused.At this point, I was considering stealing the secret behind the Holone Grapes and letting them fend off Byrne on their own terms.The older elf put a map on the desk, displaying the area north of Farcrest and south of Tagabiria. There was a fine red line parting the map from west to east, a couple of kilometers north of Whiteleaf. The path through the Farlands to Tagabiria was on the opposite side of the line.I raised an eyebrow.“By order of the King, you are to cease all exploration of the Farlands and make no attempt to cross this line. Any attempt to cross the frontier will have consequences.”____________First | Prev | Next (Patreon)____________Discord | Royal Road | Patreon
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