Chapter 63: Disturbance

The construction of Magic Network One was progressing smoothly. Partly because Rebecca truly had a knack for this kind of work, and partly because the “Magic Network” itself was built on the most basic rune arrangements. That wild mage, relying on his computational power and creativity, had simplified this incredible magic array to an astonishing degree. He even reduced the required materials to an unbelievable level—ordinary quartz sand, affordable even for commoners, served as the main component. Only a tiny amount of mithril and obsidian was needed at key nodes as conductive materials. The overall cost was well within the current capacity of the Cecil Domain.

After all, that wild mage had been destitute back then. If he hadn’t simplified the Magic Network to this extent, he wouldn’t have been able to create it at all.

But the smooth progress of a project also meant the pressure related to it would soon follow—

In Gawain’s plan, the domain first had to ensure sufficient steel production. With steel, there would be weapons, equipment, tools for labor, and the infrastructure to manufacture the next level of products. Building the smelting facilities was only the first step; more importantly, the eastern mining district had to be developed to guarantee a steady supply of ore.

And mining construction required even more materials. Without heavy machinery, relying solely on manpower to carve through mountains and extract stone, this also meant needing more workers.

At the same time, the camp’s construction had to accelerate. Replacing tents with wooden houses was only a temporary fix. A truly sturdy and reliable camp couldn’t be built from wood alone. But in this era, was there any faster or more convenient building technology or materials?

Laying all these challenges out before him, Gawain finally grasped just how difficult it was to start from scratch. Even with magical assistance and a temporarily comfortable financial reserve, building a new home from a blank slate was no easy feat.

At this moment, he couldn’t help but look forward to the aid promised by Francis II—the food and cloth were one thing, but more importantly, the hundred craftsmen and apprentices. One hundred people—even if many were unlucky souls forced to come south to pioneer because of being ostracized elsewhere—that was still a hundred skilled hands!

For the Cecil Domain, with a total population barely over eight hundred, what did a hundred skilled workers mean?

It meant Gawain could fall asleep with a smile on his face, even startling the night watch soldier at the gate.

Unfortunately, the earliest they could arrive was still more than half a month away.

Speaking of talent, Gawain thought of Amber, who had left two days ago… and still no news. Could that shameless scoundrel really have run off with a few gold bars?

Inside the large tent at the center of the camp, Gawain’s mind buzzed with countless thoughts as he tried to focus on the blueprints and charts before him. Betty sat nearby on a mat, nodding off little by little.

The blueprint in front of Gawain was for a new type of furnace—similar in shape and some structure to a blast furnace back on Earth, but with a completely different internal mechanism. It had to leave room for the magic array to function, ensure the magical conduits on the furnace were as close as possible to the underground Magic Network One, and also prevent the molten iron from damaging the magical patterns etched on the furnace body…

This was something entirely different from the Magic Network or the waterwheel. Gawain had to combine knowledge from both worlds to complete this design. If the Magic Network was the foundation stone of the Cecil Domain, then designing this peculiar “hybrid furnace” was Gawain’s own cornerstone.

He knew clearly that only by completing it could many of the wild ideas in his mind become possible—and no one else could help him with this.

Having finished the design of the combustion chamber and molten iron channels, and reserved space for drawing the magic array based on Gawain Cecil’s knowledge, he rubbed his temple and reached out: “Betty, help me get the parchment pouch… the one with the red string.”

No response. Only soft snoring.

Turning his head, he saw the tired little maid curled up on the mat, sound asleep.

Looks like keeping her company here was pretty boring.

Gawain shook his head with a wry smile, about to get up and fetch the pouch himself, when Betty suddenly sat up with her eyes closed. Staggering drowsily, she shuffled to the corner of the tent, opened a chest, took out the pouch, and wobbled back to him…

All without opening her eyes.

Gawain chuckled as he took the pouch, tidied the blueprints, and watched Betty struggle to keep her eyes open. “If you’re tired, just sleep. Who knows how long I’ll be busy.”

Betty finally woke up, blinking hard and shaking her head vigorously. “I’m not sleeping! Master’s not sleeping, so I won’t sleep!”

Then she lowered her head, staring seriously at the drafts spread on the table. Gawain, curious, asked, “Can you understand these?”

“No…” Betty shook her head. “I can’t read.”

“Oh, then these must be pretty boring,” Gawain laughed. “No wonder you fell asleep earlier.”

“I didn’t sleep!” Betty quickly denied, but her eyes involuntarily drifted back to the papers covered in writing. “Master, you know so many words…”

Though she had been exhausted moments ago, now looking at the drafts on the table, her sleepiness seemed to vanish. Gawain found this amusing and asked, “Do you want to learn to read?”

Betty nodded instinctively, then nervously shook her head, fiddling with a button on her maid’s uniform. “Mrs. Hansen said maids can’t learn to read. We just have to work well.”

“That’s nonsense. Everyone can learn to read!” Gawain immediately corrected her, then on a whim added, “If you want, I can teach you a little.”

Betty’s eyes drifted again toward the papers, but before nodding, she shook her head. “But Sir Philip said paper and pens are precious in the domain. We can’t waste them…”

Gawain paused, about to say there was plenty of paper here, but then realized Sir Philip had a point. The domain wasn’t self-sufficient, and with communication to Tansan Town relying solely on mounted messengers, supplies were limited. Letting Betty practice writing might indeed be a luxury.

Besides, who knew if she could really learn, or if she was just playing around?

Still, looking at the girl’s simple, earnest face, Gawain couldn’t help but smile. “Wait here.”

He fetched a sturdy branch, brushed off all the twigs and splinters with his hand, and under the knight’s power, the branch was cleaned perfectly. Then he trimmed one end with a small knife and handed it to Betty. “Practice on this first, on the ground. When you get better, we’ll move on.”

Betty took the branch blankly, then saw Gawain turn back to the desk and quickly write on a piece of paper. Soon he finished a “copybook”—yellowed rough paper with large, clear letters of the basic alphabet, and a big word underneath.

Gawain handed it to Betty. “This is the alphabet. Below is your name. Copy it—ask me if you don’t know.”

Betty’s face lit up as if she’d found a treasure, almost bursting with excitement.

The tent floor was just earth, compacted, so Gawain cleared a small area beside his desk for Betty to practice writing.

After loosening the soil, he returned to his desk while the little maid squatted nearby, clumsily practicing the basic letters.

She actually looked quite earnest.

A memory of a lesson from his previous life flashed through Gawain’s mind, and he shook his head with a smile. This little episode had relaxed his spirit and refreshed his thinking. He picked up another draft and prepared to tackle another problem.

But the quiet atmosphere didn’t last long. Soon, a commotion rose outside the tent.

Gawain reassured Betty to keep practicing, then hurried out.

Sir Byron was running toward him, his face tense. Gawain knew something had gone wrong.

Before Byron could speak, Gawain asked, “What’s happened?”

“Sir, the soldiers guarding the mountain treasury reported strange noises inside—like rocks scraping or something knocking. But the treasury doors are sealed; they can’t get in to check. So they sent the message here first.”

Something was wrong in the ruins?!

Gawain felt a cold sweat break out. Everything else could be dealt with, but the treasury absolutely could not have any problems!

That was the real family fortune!

But he quickly calmed himself. If this had happened earlier, he might have panicked more. Fortunately, he had been arranging for key materials in the treasury to be gradually moved to the camp. Though not everything was out, at least a third had been transported. Even if the treasury collapsed, it wouldn’t be a fatal loss…

After some self-reassurance, Gawain steadied himself. Byron probably hadn’t noticed the sweat on his forehead in the fading light.

The family legacy was safe—for now.

Weighing whether to investigate immediately or wait until daylight, Gawain quickly made up his mind: No way he could sleep with this hanging over him! Rebecca would probably lose it too!

“Sir Philip, you’re in charge of camp defense. Gather a few capable soldiers and come with me to the mountain. Also, bring Hetty—her support magic should come in handy.”

(End of chapter)