Regressor Of The Fallen Family [EN]: Chapter 182

It wasn’t long after Ro-gun whispered his idea that Clayton made a big announcement: the Magic Tower was going to be moved.

“Why again?! I finished all the plans! Why move the Magic Tower *now*?!” The dwarf in charge of building yelled, grabbing his head with both hands. Ro-gun stood next to him, patting his back gently, trying to calm him down.

“Think about it, Hamar,” Ro-gun said softly. “The Magic Workshop. It sounds amazing, doesn’t it? The Magic Tower and the Great Workshop working together… imagine all the magical things you could create! And you, Hamar, you would be the master of it all.”

Hamar just grunted, still annoyed. Ro-gun knew what would get Hamar interested.

“Think about defense,” Ro-gun continued. “A strong fortress needs a lot of magic, right? And if many wizards live there, it will be much safer.”

“Hmm, maybe…” Hamar mumbled, starting to think about it. Ro-gun added more reasons.

“And this is all for you, Hamar. You would be the Great Workshop Master, the leader of a very important city with a Magic Tower! What do you say?” Ro-gun used words that dwarves loved to hear – words of power and honor.

“Alright! I’ll do it, Master!” Hamar said, his voice now full of energy. “Trust me! Changing the plans is easy. We will build a strong fortress city, perfect for the Magic Tower!” Hamar’s eyes sparkled with excitement. But not everyone was happy about this change.

“Why are we putting these big crossbows on the mountain walls?!” one dwarf shouted. “Who will pull them up there?” These were the dwarves building the fortress walls.

“I said build houses, not palaces!” another complained. “Just make simple, strong houses like the plans show!” These were the dwarves designing the city.

“This is enough wood for now,” said a third group. “The dirt walls will be made taller with magic, so wizards can do that. We just need to make good tools for everyone. This city will be the best mining city in the kingdom, so everyone should have iron tools!” These were the dwarves in the temporary workshop.

The dwarves were getting more and more tired each day because their leader, Hamar, was working them so hard.

Even dwarves who were trying to work hard for their freedom in 20 years were confused by Hamar’s energy. Soon, some of the newer dwarves started to complain.

“Are we workers or machines?” one grumbled.

“If we keep working like this, we’ll be dead before we’re free!” said another.

“Why is Hamar working so hard anyway?” asked a third.

During a short rest, three young dwarves were complaining when a cold voice spoke behind them.

“Wondering why I’m so excited?”

“Eek!”

“Hah!”

“N-nothing!” The three dwarves jumped and turned around, scared. But Hamar just smiled and patted their shoulders.

“This city,” Hamar said, “will be a safe home for us dwarves. Not a huge city like Stormrage, which our ancestors were so proud of, but a good city where dwarves can live without worry. That’s what I want to build.”

“But… isn’t your dream to be free?” Geommaru, one of the young dwarves, asked carefully. “To be free and go to the mountains?”

“You mean like our ancestors?” another dwarf asked. “The ones who went past the Southern Mountains and were never seen again?”

Geommaru nodded, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yes.” This was the dream of many non-human races who were slaves to humans. Even Geommaru, who was born a slave, had always dreamed of it – freedom in the mountains.

But Hamar shook his head.

“How would you cross the Southern Mountains?” Hamar asked. “What about the monsters there? Even if you get past them, there are legends of terrible monsters deep in the mountains. You’d be better off dying quickly.”

“But… aren’t those just stories?” one dwarf asked.

“If they were just stories,” Hamar said, “humans would have gone through the Southern Mountains already.” The young dwarves, who had grown up around humans and knew some human history, didn’t know what to say.

“I used to think like you,” Hamar said. “I thought if we just went to the Southern Mountains, some old spirit would come and help us. But it’s not like that.”

“Hamar, how can you say that?” Geommaru asked angrily, his face red.

Hamar didn’t react to Geommaru’s anger and spoke calmly. “Unless we can control the earth spirits like our ancestors did, and make magic weapons from them, going to the Southern Mountains now is just suicide. Or you’ll just hide in some other mountain, scared that slave hunters will find you.” When Hamar said this strongly, the young dwarves looked even sadder. Hamar, an older dwarf they respected, had just told them a hard truth they didn’t want to hear.

But then, Hamar smiled.

“So,” he said, “I started looking for a different way.”

“Yes?” Hamar continued. “Like I said when we arrived, the lord here is… very kind to us.” Hamar’s voice shook a little as he said this. He coughed and looked away because the other dwarves were looking at him strangely. “Ah, I’m just a bit sick,” Hamar said quickly. “Anyway, that’s not important. Listen, I want to make this city a good place for dwarves to live peacefully, because the lord is kind to us.”

“Yes…?”

“I couldn’t say this clearly before because I thought some of you would argue, like you just did. But this city is meant to be our home, not just a place to pass through. That’s my dream for this city.”

“Hamar…”

“But… is that really possible?” one dwarf asked. “Humans only see us as slaves…”

“Even if this lord is nice, what if the next lord changes everything?” another worried.

“That’s why we need a contract,” Hamar said.

“A contract?”

“If we work hard and make this city great, we can make a magic contract that costs 10,000 gold. This contract will say that we will be free and have rights after 20 years… by human years, called Maclane years. This contract will promise this to the lord and all the lords who come after him, forever.”

“Ah…” The young dwarves’ faces changed as they listened to Hamar. Twenty years wasn’t long for a dwarf who lives for 300 years. Especially if it meant real freedom. Now, the 20 years Hamar mentioned before made sense to the young dwarves.

“Imagine a life where we don’t have to hide in the mountains! We can use what we build in this city, get paid fairly, and have our rights! Isn’t that amazing?”

“Y-yes, it is!”

“Yes, it is!”

“We’ll help as much as we can!”

“Good. I’m glad you understand.”

“Okay, we understand.”

Hamar gave each of the young dwarves a warm, fatherly hug, his beard brushing against their heads.

And then:

“Put in a little more effort to build a city where our people can live freely. Even if the work is a bit tough.”

“Yes, Hamar, we understand,” one said.

“Sorry, we’ll work harder,” said another.

“We won’t complain again!” a third chimed in.

“No, no. You can complain about work as much as you like. You might get stressed. I can understand all that. If cursing at me helps you relieve stress, feel free to do so as much as you want.”

“Ah, no! From now on, I’ll do my best without complaining!”

“Good. Until you achieve results and can write that contract.”

“Yes. Until we write the contract!”

The young dwarves swore with determined looks.

“Good. Keep up the good work.”

Hamar patted their shoulders once more and turned away.

The young dwarves looked at Hamar with wide eyes. His kind words and gentle pat on the shoulder made him seem like a wise and good leader, almost like a saint in their eyes.

They had no idea that Hamar’s big dream was actually made up quickly just two months ago.

And then:

“Alright, alright. Now we have 52 lads volunteering to work hard to sign the difficult work agreement that feels like slavery to them. Let’s put in a bit more effort. Grand Master Hamar, ruler of the mining city of Taren!”

The eyes of the ambitious dwarf darted around, seeking another victim.

Later, Hamar went to see his Master, Logan, in his office.

“Master, the construction of the fortress’s outer strongholds is roughly finished, and the houses for the workers to live in are complete. Preparations for mining development are also nearing completion.”

“Good, you’ve worked hard. So, can you roughly take your hands off the mining side now?”

A light question flew in with the praise.

But Hamar, who had known Logan for a long time, felt a hint of something else in Logan’s casual question and reflexively answered.

“No, Master. Still, I need to supervise everything and check the intermediate processes….”

“So you’re saying you just need to supervise.”

“……Ahem. Ahem. Well, the city plan is quite large, and the way to reach the mineral veins is deep, so even just supervising means there’s a lot to do.”

Hamar tried persistently to avoid that feeling.

“You can entrust the supervision to someone else. You have other things to do.”

Logan made a grinding sound.

“Huh? Did you just grind your teeth?”

“Haha. Of course not, Master. Um, my wisdom tooth was just itchy.”

“That’s right. The person who will become the head of our Great Magic Engineering Workshop wouldn’t do that.”

“Ahaha. But what are you going to make me do again…?”

Hamar carefully asked, trying hard to suppress his trembling eyes, but the answer that came back was ominous.

“There’s some wasteland in front of us, right?”

“Wasteland? You mean the Great Wasteland? The one that takes days to cross?”

Hamar’s heart sank. He felt a cold dread creeping up his spine. This sounded very familiar, and not in a good way.

“Yeah. It’s a large wasteland, long from north to south. To the south, the Luther River flows behind some low hills. To the north, the Tenon River flows behind a mountain range, you see?”

“Su, surely….”

“Find a location to drill through the mountain and build a dam, and report it. I’ll tell Dwain about the workers to dig the waterways, so mobilize them as you see fit.”

Hamar groaned. “No! Not again! Why always me?!”

The nightmarish memory of being dragged around for two weeks, losing sleep just to find a location to construct the dam, and having to travel back and forth between the gold mine and the dam construction site without a single day of rest, carried on that cursed Kai Solon’s words, was waiting for him in an even more expanded form.

“Please, please tell me you’re kidding, Master. Huh?!”

Hamar looked at him with pleading eyes, but:

“You’re the only dwarf who’s built a dam before, so what can I do? I’ve also told Clayton, so the magic tower will help you enough. Sounds good?”

“It doesn’t sound good! It doesn’t sound good at all!!”

“Good. That’s Hamar for you. A confident answer, I like it.”

“Listen when a dwarf is talking!!”

“I’ll entrust the work entirely to you. Just make sure to report regularly.”

“Who am I even talking to right now….”

“Of course, Hamar. And I am listening. That’s why I’m giving you this important task.”

“Why do you only listen to what’s advantageous to you?!”

“Good, you’re full of energy. Keep up the good work.”

“Aaaargh! Seriously!!”

Thud.

Logan left Hamar’s scream behind and closed the door of the temporarily constructed office.

‘Once the fortress city of Taren is completed and we start mining magic stones, it’s as good as having a spring that never runs dry. Now, all that’s left is….”

Kraune’s research journal.

Perhaps the possibility of mass-producing low-circle artifacts lies within it.

That would depend on Clayton’s achievements.

‘In the worst case, we have to keep in mind that we might not be able to reproduce it in the end. If that’s the case, then this wasteland reclamation is the end of the preparation.”

Developing the magic stone mine and reclaiming Taren’s wasteland to create a plain.

Once that was finished, the territory development plan that Logan had planned to face the Empire would finally be fully realized.

Vast amounts of food and vast amounts of money.

Assuming that all of that was achieved, all that was left was….

‘Gathering information about the Empire and improving the constitution of the entire kingdom. Especially military power.”

Four years ago, it was just a daunting task to think about whether this would even be possible.

He had crossed the 90% mark of the plan he had set up back then.

‘Careful, careful. The more it is like this, the more carefully we must proceed. We must not repeat the mistakes of Tomodo or the civil war.”

Logan clenched his fist, trying to calm the anxious mind at the sight of the future that was approaching as if it were within reach.

Let’s proceed a little more calmly and carefully.

Logan, who had calmed his mind, sent a magical communication to McLaine Territory.

“Send Damian Nadal to Taren. Ah, no. It would be better for me to go to Town. Draw up how much of the available budget there is right now.”

[Yes, I understand. But what are you going to do again?]

“I’ll tell you when I get back. Just get ready for now.”

Just as he was putting the pieces together for the great work, one by one.

[Logan. Come up to the capital as quickly as possible. Something urgent has happened.]

A message came from his teacher.