Chapter 31: Planning and Cultivation

When Victor stepped into the outer stone chamber, Nelson was already waiting for him there, accompanied by six men dressed as farmers. Seeing their lord take a seat, the farmers bowed respectfully to Victor, their anxious expressions barely masking their excitement.

Though none of them understood exactly what the position of group leader entailed, they all recognized it as a rank above that of ordinary peasants—and now, they were about to be acknowledged by their lord.

Victor glanced at Nelson, clad in chainmail and standing by his side. A thought stirred within him, and he quietly slipped into his heightened senses and overdrive state. In his vision, a set of data appeared above Nelson:

Physique 20, Spirit 13, Perception 11, Vitality 16.

He then turned to a stout, middle-aged farmer nearby, and another set of figures emerged:

Physique 8, Spirit 9, Perception 6, Vitality 10.

These numbers were gathered by Victor using the Alchemy Tower’s method of observing and measuring the concentration of alchemical elements within living beings.

With these comparisons, Victor realized that those alchemical creatures he had once considered a waste of money were, in fact, impressively robust—especially the alchemical militiamen, whose statistics far surpassed those of ordinary people and were close to Nelson’s when he was in his berserk state.

It should be noted that Bruce had judged Nelson’s combat strength to be comparable to a newly initiated Bronze-ranked knight. If this calculation held true, then those alchemical militiamen would possess power roughly equal to that of apprentice knights.

Suppressing his excitement, Victor transmitted these figures to the King through their mental connection and asked in his mind, “King, are those alchemical militiamen modeled after berserk humans?”

“Master, the Alchemy Tower contains no concept of berserk transformation. However, after comparing your memories, the alchemical war hounds should possess combat strength equivalent to berserk gnoll warriors,” the King replied.

Victor drew a sharp breath. If the war hounds, costing 800 gold sols, were so formidable, then how could the 1200 gold sol militiamen be any less? If gold coins could be exchanged for war hounds and militiamen equal in strength to berserk gnolls, every lord would gladly spend a fortune for them.

While Victor was inwardly elated, Nelson quietly informed him, “Master, everyone is present.”

“Very well,” Victor composed himself, coughed to mask his thoughts, and addressed the six farmers before him, who gazed at him with eager anticipation. “I have summoned you today for two reasons: first, to confirm your identities; second, to assign your responsibilities.”

Hearing their lord was about to clarify their status, the farmers’ faces lit up with joy. Although they had been chosen as leaders by their fellow villagers, only the lord’s authorization would grant them legal standing.

“You all know this is newly expanded territory. Many things are still incomplete; I do not know you nor your talents, so I allowed the people to select their own leaders. Since you have earned their recognition, I trust you possess certain abilities. Therefore, I hereby appoint you as group leaders of the villagers.”

Victor surveyed the farmers and continued, “You may consider the position of group leader akin to that of a foreman. During this period, you are to lead your groups in fulfilling our territory’s construction tasks. In the future, as the land develops, those who perform well may be considered for the position of village chief. However, if you fail to meet my standards, you will be dismissed. Is that clear?”

“Yes, my lord,” the farmers replied in unison, solemn and respectful.

To them, the title of village chief was a mark of distinction. Now, each had a chance to rise to that rank, and their hearts burned with ambition, eager for the lord to assign tasks so they could begin their work.

“Our primary task now is to build our camp. This location and environment are excellent, and I plan to construct a solid encampment here. Do you have any suggestions?” Victor was pleased with their attitude and posed the first question.

These men, chosen as group leaders, were among the most knowledgeable in the community. Promptly, a grey-haired man bowed and said, “My lord, these hills are perfectly suited for building a motte.”

A motte, in this context, meant a hilltop tower castle—the earliest human castles. People would pile earth into a mound, construct a wooden tower and beacon atop its flat summit, and surround it with sturdy palisades for protection; this was known as the main keep.

Below the wooden main keep lay another fenced area, called the bailey, which housed livestock pens and farm buildings, as well as arrow towers along the fence. Outside the bailey’s wooden palisade, a moat would be dug to enhance defense.

When enemies approached, the farmers would retreat with their animals and grain into the bailey. Only when the bailey was about to fall would everyone withdraw into the nearly impregnable main keep.

The weakness of a motte lay in its wooden construction, which was not particularly sturdy and vulnerable to powerful monsters and fire. Thus, people began to build stone walls, and eventually entire castles from stone. As stone castles grew taller and heavier, they became unsuitable for hilltop construction, and gradually, stone castles were built on the plains, evolving into the modern lord’s castle.

Though mottes were being replaced by castles, their low cost, ease of sourcing materials, and short construction time meant they could provide effective defense quickly. Thus, many farmsteads were still built in the motte style. This led nobles to regard mottes as the dwellings of commoners; any noble living in a motte would be mocked by their peers.

“My lord, although mottes are not particularly strong, the terrain here compensates for that. If we dig a moat before the bailey’s gate and install a drawbridge, it will repel most monster attacks, and the main keep can be built on the flat ground before the cave,” the old farmer said. Seeing Victor’s neutral expression, he anxiously added, “Moreover, constructing a motte is much faster than a stone castle. The trees here are very tall; we could build higher palisades and more arrow towers.”

Ordinarily, building a motte in monster-infested frontier lands would be foolish, but this hill’s terrain perfectly offset the motte’s weaknesses. Given Victor’s current manpower and resources, building a motte was a practical choice. Thus, Victor decided to adopt the suggestion.

As for noble dignity, Victor doubted that nobles who used wood chips and leaves for their necessities would possess much dignity in this world.

“What is your name?” Victor smiled at the old farmer.

“My lord, my name is Morlin,” replied the farmer, his face flushed with excitement at his lord’s inquiry.

“Morlin, your suggestion is excellent. Does anyone else have anything to add?” Victor was not well-versed in these basic matters and needed these men to offer further advice; he encouraged them freely.

Morlin’s success stirred envy and inspired the others, who eagerly presented their suggestions:

“My lord, I think we should cut down all the trees on the steep parts of the hill, depriving monsters and beasts of cover.”

“My lord, I’ve discovered many sword-leaf agave plants here. I can use them to weave ropes, which can reinforce the wooden palisades.”

“My lord, we can raise the pool inside the cave’s spring, then dig a channel to bring spring water from the cave to a reservoir in the camp.”

After a lively discussion among the experienced farmers, Victor finalized the immediate tasks:

First, build the bailey’s palisades within a month. Second, excavate a reservoir in the camp and channel the cave’s spring water into it. Third, quickly clear a patch of land in the bailey for vegetables and grain.

As for the main keep, Victor withheld approval. If the bailey fell in battle, the wooden main keep would offer little defense. Second, as a pioneering lord, Victor needed a proper baronial castle; otherwise, his legitimacy would be attacked by the Prince’s faction.

Victor decided to select a new site for a stone castle, though that would come later. For now, there was no need to waste manpower and resources on a wooden keep that offered little defense.

After assigning the construction tasks, the group leaders withdrew, and Nelson remained.

“Nelson, you must quickly dispatch scouts to survey the land within fifty kilometers of the camp. If monsters or bandits are found, I will ask Knight Bruce to help us clear them,” Victor instructed.

“Understood, my lord. I’ll arrange scouting teams tomorrow,” Nelson replied.

“And, since my bloodline power has not fully recovered since its last use, I’ll be staying in the cave for now. Arrange guards at the entrance; no one is to enter or leave without my permission.”

When Nelson departed, Victor turned and entered the inner chamber of the cave, slipping into his heightened senses.

Physique 7, Spirit 14, Perception 21, Vitality 18—these were Victor’s own numbers.

His physique was only 7, weaker than the farmers. Spirit, at 14, surpassed Nelson’s, likely due to the X-3 entering overdrive. Vitality at 18 was thanks to the moon elf bloodline that granted Victor greater longevity than ordinary people.

However, Perception reached 21—the highest value Victor had seen yet, possibly because his body, in the heightened sense state, was perfectly attuned to wind elements.

He then entered the Apocalypse state, and sure enough, the numbers shifted:

Physique 7, Spirit 14, Perception 24, Vitality 18.

Physique, vitality, and spirit remained unchanged, but perception increased by three points, indicating that elemental concentration could fluctuate with one's state.

His body was still too weak; perhaps he should try the body-forging techniques recorded in X-3. Victor sighed, envious of Nelson’s impressive 20 points in physique.

“King, monitor changes in my physical stats. I’m going to try the body-forging techniques in X-3,” Victor instructed the tower spirit mentally. With X-3’s assistance, he assumed a peculiar posture.

This was a stance from a Chinese martial arts school, preserved in X-3, combining posture, movement, breathing, and visualization to cultivate and refine the body.

This mysterious training method was reputed to have incredible effects: practitioners’ muscles, bones, and organs would be thoroughly tempered; those who mastered it would experience superhuman stamina, strength, speed, reflexes, and explosive power.

Yet these ancient and enigmatic techniques were extremely difficult. Any distortion of movement, irregular breathing, or change in mental state could harm the practitioner.

The fifteen stances imported into Victor’s memory had been painstakingly verified and completed by a consortium led by Qin Feng, who recruited over a hundred test subjects and employed advanced observation and experimental methods. Among them, some died, some were crippled, some went mad; less than twenty succeeded in the end.

Practicing these stances alone was dangerous for Victor, but X-3 could correct his movements and breathing with absolute precision, preventing any error. All Victor needed to do was focus his mind and visualize according to the stance.

Soon, Victor felt sensations of tingling, itching, numbness, and soreness within his body. Sweat broke out on his brow, making it hard to concentrate. Fortunately, X-3 dampened his sensitivity to these states, allowing him to enter a state of selfless focus.

He had no idea how much time had passed before he emerged from meditation, feeling sore and famished, yet his mind was clear, even refreshed.

“King, how long did I practice? Did you detect any changes in my body’s elemental composition?” Victor stretched and inquired mentally.

“My lord, you practiced for 1 hour and 34 minutes. During your training, void elements gathered beside you, forming a faint cycle between these external elements and those within your body. When the cycle ended, your body’s earth element concentration increased by 0.07 units; other elements also rose, though only slightly,” the King reported.

“0.07? Though small, it proves the method is effective,” Victor replied, satisfied.

It was a tiny increase, but in time, perhaps he could forge a physique as robust as Nelson’s. Victor looked forward to this possibility.

“My lord, I must caution you: the elements within your body have not yet fused with it. If you do not take action, they will gradually dissipate,” the King warned.

“What should I do?” Victor asked, bewildered.

“Eat.”

The King’s answer left Victor speechless.