Chapter 137: Pea

Hearing Byron’s words, Gawain finally froze. “A girl?”

“Yeah…” The knight Byron’s face twisted into something almost like an abstract painting. “I only found out when I was giving her a bath. It scared me half to death!”

Gawain’s eyebrows twitched twice as he gave the middle-aged knight a strange look. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking something weird. That kid’s probably not even ten years old.”

Byron quickly waved his hands. “No, no, that’s impossible. I may be a mercenary, but I’m not that crude. It’s just… I don’t think I can adopt her.”

Gawain found this amusing and didn’t rush back to studying his own files. Instead, he looked the knight in the eye. “Why? Just because she’s a girl, you think you can’t adopt her as your heir? I didn’t expect you to be so old-fashioned about this.”

“Of course not,” Byron said with a bitter expression. “She saved my life. I have no problem passing on my skills and wealth to her. It’s just… I’m a rough, blunt man. How could I possibly raise a girl properly? I thought she was a boy at first, and now I’m at a loss.”

Gawain smirked slightly but then his gaze shifted past Byron toward the tent’s entrance.

A small, thin figure stood there.

Byron noticed it too and hesitated before turning to look. Sure enough, it was the little mute girl who had quietly followed him here.

She had already been bathed and her hair combed, and she was wearing a clean, coarse cloth dress. But the usual “dirty street kid gets a bath and suddenly turns into a little princess” scene didn’t happen here. Although it was clear she was a girl, she hadn’t become any prettier. Years of malnutrition and overwork had left her pale and gaunt, her skin rough, and her hair like a clump of withered weeds, even after combing. Her body was thin and her face hollow from lack of nourishment—there was nothing cute about her.

She had followed along without really understanding, as if only now realizing she shouldn’t wander around. She stood there dumbfounded at the doorway, nervously holding her hands and feet tightly together, her face full of anxiety and confusion.

She must have overheard the conversation between Gawain and Byron.

“Your daughter’s come to see you,” Gawain said with a smile, then beckoned the mute girl over.

“My lord…” Byron called out awkwardly, but when he saw the little mute walking toward him, his expression quickly turned embarrassed and uneasy. “You… you weren’t supposed to run around like this.”

“Byron,” Gawain said firmly, “I know this is difficult for you, but you can’t just push her aside. Since you promised to adopt her, that promise shouldn’t come with any conditions. Take good care of her.”

“I…” Byron opened his mouth but finally nodded. “Yes, I understand.”

“If you run into trouble, ask for help. There are plenty of people in the territory who know how to care for children. Don’t be so proud as a knight—though I doubt you have that kind of pride,” Gawain chuckled. “This girl not only saved you, she helped me too. She played a big part in solving the crisis in Tansan Town. She’s brought good fortune to our land. We can’t treat her badly.”

Byron nodded in agreement. The little mute blinked at Gawain, then at Byron. She could understand what they were saying but didn’t grasp the complexities of knights and territories, so she looked a bit lost.

Suddenly, Gawain asked, “Does she have a name?”

“A name?” Byron seemed to realize this for the first time. “Ah, right. I don’t even know her name… I was too flustered before.”

“She must have a name, but since she can’t speak, none of us can know what it is,” Gawain glanced at the little mute. “Should we give you a name?”

The girl immediately began gesturing with her hands, but Gawain and Byron couldn’t understand her. After a frustrating attempt at communication, she suddenly let out a small sound and dashed out of the tent.

Gawain and Byron exchanged puzzled looks and decided to wait. After a long while, the girl came back, panting.

She held out her hand to Gawain, and in her palm lay a few peas.

After a moment, Gawain guessed her meaning. “You want to be called Pea?”

The girl nodded vigorously, clutching the waistband of her coarse dress with one hand and pushing the peas forward with the other.

Byron caught on. “You don’t want a new name? You want to keep ‘Pea’?”

The girl nodded again.

“That’s probably the name her parents gave her. If it was the merchant who cut out her tongue, she wouldn’t care so much about it,” Gawain speculated. “Pea… maybe they named her that hoping she’d never go hungry.”

He reached out and patted Pea’s hair—it really did feel like a bunch of weeds.

“Even though she can’t speak, she understands. You’ll have to watch your words and actions and be a good example for her,” Gawain said with a smile, looking at Byron. Then he remembered something. “By the way, Andrew the Viscount is helping with the purchase of serfs and the transfer of refugees in Tansan Town. You don’t need to oversee that yourself. Delegate it to some capable subordinates. I have a new task for you.”

Byron straightened up immediately, his expression serious.

“No need to be so tense. The mission is within the territory—I want you to organize a team to investigate the ruins in the Dark Mountains.”

Byron’s curiosity was piqued. “Are you planning a full-scale exploration already?”

“Andrew found fragments of the Eternal Tablet beneath the Tansan mines. I’m increasingly uneasy about those ruins in our territory and want to speed things up,” Gawain nodded. “You have mercenary experience, so you should know how to explore ruins. Find some cautious, careful, and brave men, bring the best equipment, and map out all the shallow corridors and rooms. I don’t care about speed; I want safety and thoroughness. I don’t want experienced warriors dying there, nor do I want you to miss anything important. Understand?”

Byron stood tall. “Yes, rest assured. I do have some experience in this area. I won’t let you down.”

After Byron left, Gawain stepped out of the tent and looked over the territory, which was growing day by day.

Not long ago, this was just a “camp.”

Frostmoon was approaching, and the weather was getting colder by the day. Yet New Cecile was steadily getting on track. The first generation of magic engines—after Nicholas’s adjustments and optimizations, evolving from prototypes to practical machines—were now officially in front of the people. These strange-looking but powerful machines, powered by magic yet operable by ordinary people, caught many eyes. When first put into use, many serfs and commoners even looked at them with fear—as if invisible little demons lived inside the repulsion mechanisms and connecting rods, pushing the heavy, terrifying steel. At first, it was hard to recruit operators, and later they had to resort to coercion to ensure every machine had enough hands to run it.

But this ignorant and ridiculous situation lasted only a short time.

At Gawain’s insistence, the territory implemented a system of “lectures” and “education.” All new things—whether laws or machines—were repeatedly explained to the people. Gawain was determined to eliminate ignorance and superstition from this land. Within days, people understood that these machines were new magical devices, operable by ordinary people not because demons were sucking their souls and flesh, but because of human wisdom and technology.

Gawain emphasized the presence of “ordinary people” in the machine development team, especially engraving the names of all the craftsmen involved in early development on the machines’ surfaces. These craftsmen lived among the people, earning countless admiring and respectful glances. What Gawain gained was the awakening spirit of the once numb and ignorant serfs and commoners.

Now, in the territory, you could see ordinary people walking around with smiles on their faces.

Powered by the surging magic engines, all kinds of basic production were proceeding at an astonishing speed.

The mines used magic engines to pull ore carts and pump out seepage. Iron ore supply was stabilizing. The only bottleneck was the rough road between the mines and the steelworks, and Gawain had already ordered its repair. With Hetty’s magical assistance, leveling and building a simple road was no problem.

The progress at the machine factory was shocking. The iron ball alien’s “golden leg” (even though he had no legs) was even more effective than Gawain expected. All kinds of simple lathes he could think of were being produced day and night. Without the rune furnace powered by the magic network and ample ore supply, the territory’s steel reserves wouldn’t keep up with Nicholas’s consumption.

The brick kiln had started using simple molding machines from the factory, and Rebecca’s experiments with “cement” had yielded preliminary results—a binding material strong enough to meet standards. Though output and quality were still issues, Gawain was already considering moving the territory beyond wooden houses and tents into the era of “solid buildings.”

At this stage of smooth material development, the biggest problem was a shortage of talent.

Labor wasn’t an issue for now, since the territory’s developed area was still small. But the new machines and technologies lacked enough skilled people to maintain and advance them.

Technological progress can’t rely on just a few people. While a handful of geniuses might invent world-changing things, promoting and sustaining an industrial chain requires many mid- and low-level technicians.

Among the hundred people, there weren’t many “geniuses,” or even many talents.

Not every rebel or outcast is a genius; often they’re rejected by society simply because of low emotional intelligence—and losing emotional intelligence doesn’t turn into skill points added to IQ.

Though Gawain had said the territory welcomed rebels, that was more to boost morale. He knew it was unrealistic to expect the capital to send him a hundred revolutionaries. And indeed, aside from Jenny—a hugely valuable talent—and a few promising ones, most were mediocre. They could do their jobs but not much more.

He wondered how many intellectuals Viscount Andrew could find for him. Given the era’s overall education level, he couldn’t expect much.

Just then, shouting interrupted Gawain’s thoughts.

“Ancestor! Ancestor!” Rebecca came bounding over, waving her signature iron staff in one hand and a large roll of paper in the other.

Gawain saw the iron staff in the girl’s hand and instinctively shuddered—was she here to test the Resting Staff technique passed down from their ancestor again?

But then he noticed Jenny trailing behind Rebecca, the rune master, clutching even more scrolls. She was struggling to keep up, running hard while calling out for Rebecca to slow down.

Only then did Gawain relax a little. So Rebecca wasn’t here to assassinate their ancestor after all…

When the two finally reached him, Gawain looked at his great-great-great… granddaughter with curiosity. “Slow down, catch your breath—what’s going on?”

“I… we studied the wild mage’s notes and… the patterns in those runes,” Rebecca panted heavily, then took a deep breath and said in one rush, “and we’ve calculated the infinite expansion structure of the magic network!!”

(End of chapter)