Chapter 116: Awakening

Desolation, bleakness, ruins, and crumbling walls defined the landscape. High above, crows let out harsh, discordant cries, flapping their wings to land upon a tall arrow tower, making the hill camp resemble a ghost town.

Several giant hounds, the size of calves, vaulted over a ten-meter-wide trench, squeezed through the gaps in the collapsed drawbridge, and fanned out across the camp. Moments later, long, mournful howls echoed through the ruins.

Victor stood silently, gazing at the carbonized remains of the massive drawbridge. The deep trench was pitch black, and the greenish tint of the earth bore witness to the thousands of ant-men who had died there. Their corpses were gone, likely devoured by their own kind.

"Bang!"

The chains were severed, and the half-hanging drawbridge crashed into splinters. Renault, wielding a two-handed battle axe, gestured to Victor. With a light leap, Victor vaulted across the wide trench and, escorted by six militiamen, walked into the hill camp.

Collapsed houses, splintered trees, and a scarred, littered ground—were it not for the fact that the fences remained somewhat intact, no one would believe that just twenty days ago, this had been a beautiful village. As Victor walked through the ruins toward the upper camp, he could almost hear the laughter of the villagers and the shouts of the guards during training. But all of that was merely memory now.

Seeing the results of six months of labor wiped out in a single day, Victor felt an indescribable heartache. He remembered building a beautiful castle out of wooden blocks as a child; when a stray cat knocked it to pieces, he had chased the animal in a rage for a long time. This hill camp, however, had been the culmination of the efforts of thousands.

Walking through the camp, Victor began to reflect on every step he had taken since arriving in this strange world. He had used a vague, beautiful vision of the future to rally everyone’s passion, driving them to work themselves to the bone, transforming the territory into something respectable in just a few short months. Though he had stumbled through many difficulties, he had handled them reasonably well. Yet, just as he was ambitiously planning for the future, a disaster destroyed everything. His construction and planning had been nothing more than a fragile castle of blocks!

The brutal ant-men had taught Victor a lesson: this was no longer the peaceful, prosperous world he once knew. This world had a cruel side. Victor had understood the importance of strength and had seen the monsters, but knowing was not the same as profoundly experiencing. Only after being taught a lesson did he truly understand why the ancestors of the Middle Kingdom had built the monumental Great Wall even under such backward conditions. His greatest failure was thinking with the mindset of a peaceful era—developing the economy before the military. He had spent most of his energy on territorial development; while he had considered building a castle, it was for the sake of his status, not for defense. Upon reflection, Victor realized he hadn't been building a territory, but a business! And his guards were merely security guards.

Of course, even if he had started by building a castle, he could not have succeeded. There was not enough time, manpower, or wealth. Moreover, the fact that he had developed the territory to this point in a few months proved the superiority of modern ideas. In truth, had he been given two more years, everything would have been on track. Alas, monsters do not reason with you. The tragedy of the hill camp was doomed from the start. No other lord would have done what he did—rushing to open up a territory with nothing but a few hundred free men. Ignorance is the root of fearlessness.

Fortunately, it was not too late! At least he was still alive, he still had the Alchemy Tower, and he still had this vast expanse of land!

As he reached the upper camp, Victor noticed dark red bloodstains and scattered fragments of crossbows—the remnants left by the fallen auxiliary soldiers.

Bending down to pick up a blood-stained piece of leather armor, Victor sighed. "Renault, what did Busuo and the others think when they fell? Were they afraid?"

"They thought of nothing, and they felt no fear," Renault replied in a booming voice.

Victor dropped the armor fragment and clapped his hands. Renault’s answer was within his expectations. The nature of the "Will" aspect determined the cognition of the alchemical humans; for them, death was merely falling into a deep slumber.

However, these ant-men clearly had a connection to the Alchemy Empire. Their behavior was little different from alchemical creatures. The only difference was that the life attribute of the ant-man commander far exceeded the scope of alchemical creatures, reaching a staggering thirty points.

Victor had two hypotheses: either the ant-men were alchemical creatures that had broken free from the constraints of the Alchemy Tower and were evolving into natural life, or they had originally been ordinary insects that inadvertently absorbed the soul fire of the Alchemy Tower while being influenced by its "Will" aspect. If one viewed the soul fire as divinity, these ant-men were transforming into divine beings. Victor dared not imagine what they would eventually become.

Passing through the ruins of the upper camp, Victor entered the Alchemy Tower once more. Countless runes on the elemental extraction platform glowed brilliantly, and an alchemical war hound was taking shape.

Connecting his consciousness to the Tower Spirit, Victor called out, "King, I have returned!"

"Welcome back, My Lord!" the King responded.

"Which war hound is this in the production queue?" Victor asked, one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his chin, looking quite like a certain someone.

"The 36th. With four more, the production order will be complete," the King answered.

Victor breathed a sigh of relief. He had hurried back specifically to issue new production orders; otherwise, once the task ended, the rapid production function would shut down.

"In these past two days, what changes have there been in the Alchemy Tower's monetary reserves?"

"Yesterday, the Alchemy Tower's soul fire limit increased by 90 points, and gold coins increased by 37,698. Today, the limit increased by another 60 points, and gold coins increased by 25,624."

"So much!" Even with some preparation, Victor was startled by the figure.

"My Lord, judging by the increase in the soul fire limit, you have killed seven ant-man commanders in total. These changes are natural," the King said calmly.

"I only killed two. The remaining five were likely finished off by the York family," Victor shook his head. "I had originally hoped the Yorks would send a Great Knight to help me hunt the commanders, but I didn't expect them to be attacked by the ant-men as well."

"My Lord, the result is the same. Your power is growing greater," the King said.

Victor sighed. "That might be a bad thing, too! The ant-men have clearly invaded the York family's territory, and their numbers are far greater than I imagined. And I have inexplicably stolen the ant-men's money. What do you think the mastermind behind them will do?"

The Alchemy Empire quantified the power of the laws of creation into wealth, and it was not wrong to call them money. Finding money was, of course, a joy, but finding a criminal syndicate's money was fatal—and the ant-men were ten thousand times more brutal than any syndicate on Earth.

"My Lord, the reaction of the ant-men is irrelevant. They never intended to spare you. Since that is the case, you should continue to weaken them and plunder their wealth until they are completely annihilated," the King suggested.

Victor laughed heartily. "You're right! I rushed back here just to spend money."

"My Lord, you seem very happy?" the King asked, puzzled. When he last connected to Victor's consciousness, the Tower Spirit had clearly sensed that his master was in low spirits; this time, he was quite relaxed.

"I suddenly realized my territory has been scrubbed clean as if by water. Except for us, there is almost no one alive. Now that we have money, it is the perfect time to manufacture alchemical creatures!"

For days, Victor had been maneuvering against the ant-men in his territory. He discovered that it wasn't just the hill camp; other factions within the territory had also been wiped out by the ant-men, who were still tirelessly teaching the mermen a lesson on the banks of the Goldwater River. The entire territory had been turned into an uninhabited wilderness by the ant-men.

Originally, Victor’s production of alchemical humans was limited by his wealth on one hand and the need to hide the secret of the alchemical humans on the other. However, the disaster brought by the ant-men had solved both problems. Naturally, he had to seize the opportunity and ride the tide.

Without delay, Victor issued his orders to the King. "King, after the war hound production is complete, produce 50 alchemical crows. Then, follow a sequence of five Spirit Monkey Militiamen and two alchemical auxiliaries, producing them indefinitely. Load the alchemical auxiliaries with the Spirit Monkey secret form, ranged weapon mastery, and rotate between construction and forging skills."

"As you command, My Lord! Production orders have been issued, and the tasks are set."

Victor nodded in satisfaction. He had carefully weighed the decision to stop producing the Ox-Bull Militiamen. They were tall, brawny, and possessed immense strength, capable of holding their own against ordinary knights—they were essentially "Fierce Humans." The problem was that Fierce Humans were rarer than knights, and a gathering of them would inevitably attract the attention of major factions. Furthermore, their strength lay in frontline defense, which made them prone to casualties, and the cost of an alchemical militiaman was as high as 1,200 Gold Solars, rising to 1,800 under rapid production. Victor could not bear to use them as cannon fodder! After all, in the Alchemy Empire's design, militiamen were not combat units; they were meant for gathering and auxiliary construction.

Compared to the Ox-Bull Militiamen, the Spirit Monkey Militiamen were closer to ordinary humans and had better survival instincts. While they could not face knights head-on, their extraordinary agility allowed them to maneuver for a time. If equipped with Thorium Crossbows and war hounds, they might even be able to shoot down knights—the Fierce Bear was a testament to that.

Most importantly, Victor was already preparing to build a castle, and the Spirit Monkey Militiamen's performance in the battle against the ant-men had satisfied him greatly.

"King, have the manufactured alchemical units assemble at Brick Kiln Village! It was not destroyed by the ant-men, and I will be staying there for the time being. Also, when you begin manufacturing alchemical auxiliaries, prioritize the awakening of Busuo. There is no need to change his skills," Victor ordered with a complex expression.

"As you wish, My Lord."

***

Black Castle Town now resembled a massive military camp. Aside from the noble district and the church, most buildings had been razed, and tents were pitched in the open spaces. The more than one hundred thousand people of the Human-Horse Hills were crammed inside. Although crowded, the public order was surprisingly good; the security guards patrolled incessantly, and anyone who dared to cause trouble was ruthlessly suppressed! It was wartime, and not even the church would interfere.

During wartime, as the masters of Black Castle Town, the York family conscripted every able-bodied man into the militia, even scattering and resettling the subjects of other families. In reality, once those lords abandoned their territories, these people had become free men. The lords themselves had already left the Human-Horse Hills with their vassals. Unlike these ignorant commoners, the lords understood very well what an army of one hundred thousand ant-men signified.

In a corner of Black Castle Town, Victor’s subjects were concentrated together. They were the only group that had not been scattered. This was perhaps because Victor was still holding his territory, so they were not considered dependents of the York family. Of course, everyone believed it was because of Heger’s care; this was evident from the food the Yorks allocated to them. Although everyone knew Heger was actually a spy for the Yorks, they had worked together for so long that they were familiar with each other. Thus, the upper echelons of Victor’s territory were quite grateful to Heger, with the exception of Barol.

"Teacher, that Heger went to drink with Dean again. When Dean returned to the camp, he was very happy and kept smiling. But before entering the camp, he stood outside for a moment, and then the smile vanished from his face," a thin, sharp-eyed boy whispered to Barol.

"What do you deduce from that?" Barol wanted to test his protégé.

"Village Chief Dean was happy, and he didn't want us to know he was happy. Therefore, he may have betrayed our interests."

"Well said! Laughter naturally represents happiness, and suppressing it means he didn't want others to know. We must infer simple answers from simple phenomena; never be clever enough to add embellishments. Once you have this answer, you can make a bold assumption—that Dean betrayed our interests—and then investigate along that line. Even if the investigation is wrong, it doesn't matter; we are wrong most of the time, but we only need to be right once. Go, take your companions and keep investigating."

Watching the boy walk away nonchalantly, Barol felt a surge of secret pride. The lad was the most talented of all his students.

Since fleeing to Black Castle Town, Barol had sensed that many things were amiss. Victor’s men were deliberately kept together and given special treatment. Heger visited every few days to offer concern and secretly probed the people from Brick Kiln Village, but how could Heger’s methods deceive Barol’s eyes?

Hiding in the shadows and using the street urchins as his eyes and ears, Barol soon discovered that the York family was trying to win over the people of Brick Kiln Village. They were inquiring about an object, one that was likely very important to the Yorks. Crucially, they hadn't obtained it yet, and the people of Brick Kiln Village were completely unaware of it.

If the villagers themselves didn't know, how could the York family know that Brick Kiln Village possessed such an item? Barol speculated two possibilities: First, Lady Lilia had told the York family. She had been settled in Rose Manor, the very heart of the York family's estate. As a mere noble lady's maid, what qualifications did she have to be settled there? Thus, it was house arrest disguised as settlement. This proved the importance of the object.

The second possibility was that Victor had intentionally told the York family, and only Victor knew where the item was. If this hypothesis held, Victor was clearly using this item to negotiate with the York family.

Barol didn't care about the content of the negotiations, but he knew that before a family negotiated with another, they had to understand the other side's situation and bottom line. That was his job.

Currently, Victor did not know that the York family was suffering from an insect plague, that their vassal families were besieged, that the Prince's party had collapsed, that Lady Lilia was under house arrest, that the church had dispatched a thousand Paladins, or that the Radiant Knights had not arrived. Therefore, Barol was anxious; he had to pass this intelligence back!

It wasn't that Barol was particularly loyal to Victor, but the life of a spy was etched into his marrow; collecting intelligence was his instinct. Now that the intelligence was gathered, the most important thing was to pass it on. It was like a chef who had prepared a feast and was waiting for the master to eat it. Only after the intelligence was sent could Barol feel at ease.

How could he get the information out? Barol cast his gaze toward the War Bear mercenaries who were drinking together.