In that moment, Otto turns towards me with unwavering resolve. I gaze upon him with a subtle smile as I finish speaking.
"Do you find this proposition intriguing? I shall bestow upon you a pivotal role," I convey, seeking to instill in him a sense of fortitude.
"How... how did you know?" Otto inquires, his words faltering.
Seated at the desk, I proffer a parchment and an inkwell, and he draws near, perusing it attentively.
"I have my methods; what truly matters is that this opportunity aligns with your interests," I reply, guarding the finer details.
The contract is merely a formality; I must keep him by my side at any cost. Furthermore, Otto's background as a merchant imparts invaluable knowledge to our cause.
This contract shall serve as his aid in alleviating some of my burdens, allowing me to focus on other endeavors while I train and grow stronger. Of course, that isn't the primary motive.
Otto raises his gaze, regarding me with suspicion.
"Why me? You're aware of my past failures, and I've even lost a vital part of myself as a merchant," he contends.
"I possess a discerning eye for such matters; I wish for your presence here because I discern untapped potential within you," I assert, firmly believing in the latent value he harbors.
Otto is timid and harbors self-doubt. Previous setbacks have led him to withdraw in certain aspects, but the current circumstances have unearthed his hidden capabilities. Yet, I am confident in placing my trust in him.
We all require a catalyst to unlock our true potential.
"Untapped potential?" Otto queries, his expression undergoing a subtle transformation.
"We are progressing gradually, and as we advance, securing positions becomes increasingly challenging," I concede, speaking candidly. "You mentioned seeking a fresh start, well then, seize this exceptional opportunity I am extending to you."
There is no reason to decline. Even without one hand, I know Otto will adapt seamlessly. Moreover, his skills are a valuable asset in matters of intelligence; there will be no losses in extending our welcome to him.
Everything changes depending on the environment in which we find ourselves.
Otto heaves a protracted sigh, placing the contract upon the table. He looks at me with a smile, yet I sense apprehension concealed behind it.
"As a merchant, I cannot let opportunities slip through my fingers. If I lack the means to invest monetarily, then I shall offer my time in exchange," Otto remarks as he takes up the quill.
"That is the attitude I seek," I gently press the paper with my fingers to allow him to affix his signature.
He signs and then takes a seat, his worry appearing to dissipate as if it were a deliberate act on his part. The truth holds no consequence for me; as long as I possess this ace up my sleeve, various possibilities lie at my disposal.
"Do you not need to speak with the Marquis first?" Otto inquires with a covetous expression.
"You need not have any contact with that individual. For your own well-being, it's best to maintain distance," I advise solemnly. "I cannot provide the exact reasons at this very moment, but trust me when I say that keeping away from him is in your best interest."
Roswaal must not become aware of Otto's existence.
In response to my warning, Otto swallows hard, as if my words had stirred a sense of remorse within him.
"Well, I suppose if you're offering me so much, it's only natural that there are risks," Otto feigns determination, though his hands betray his true emotional state.
"Coward," I jest, eliciting a startled reaction from him.
"You say it as if I could die!"
I shrug with a smile. I know that in the original novel, the character doesn't die at the hands of Roswaal; however, I cannot place complete trust in that.
Not after what happened last time.
"When we're not occupied with our duties, we should go out for a drink. Soon, there will be more options in the village," I smile at him.
From now on, we will work together. Although Otto may harbor some initial skepticism, I know he will align with my plans and objectives once he comprehends their scope. I rise and stand beside him, extending my left hand to shake his.
"Normally, offering the left hand symbolizes enmity, but today, we shall imbue it with a new meaning," I tell him with a smile.
Otto rises to his feet and clasps my hand; he appears more inspired now. With the agreement sealed, I commence elucidating his professional responsibilities. Otto must attend my basic mathematics classes in the afternoons.
I shall also impart the intricacies of statistics to him and integrate him into every facet of the business. For now, he must observe how I conduct affairs and gradually undertake increasingly substantial tasks.
"It sounds akin to being a mere servant," Otto confesses wearily.
"You shall soon discover it encompasses far more than that."
Otto begins immediately, and I expound upon all the developments in the town: the recent attack, impending elections, and the contracts we've entered into.
I also inform him that Rem will accompany him this afternoon to explore the factories and become acquainted with all those involved in our enterprises.
It proves astonishing to discern Otto's acumen; he swiftly grasps what I expect of him. At present, we have a multitude of pending contracts with individuals of diverse backgrounds.
News of the steam engine has disseminated following Crusch's acquisition. Furthermore, requests for agricultural materials and various metallic elements have poured in.
Otto commences to read and organize all the received correspondence, categorizing them by the required materials and the offered amounts. We spend the entire morning engrossed in this task, with Otto progressively becoming more adept in his role.
While we toil, our verbal exchanges remain sparse. I draft proposals or accept contracts, and Otto manages their organization and presents them to me.
At this moment, we require more iron, sand, and limestone. Yet, the transportation of the latter proves intricate due to its substantial weight and costliness.
"Isn't limestone commonly used for crafting opulent statues and constructions?" Otto inquires.
"That is precisely why it's so costly; although I have plans to seek deposits in our mountains, for now, we must employ it for iron production."
I elucidate to Otto that limestone plays a pivotal role as a flux in purging impurities from iron. It is indispensable in the production of cast iron and the achievement of superiority over others.
Limestone breaks down at high temperatures, releasing carbon dioxide (CO2), which reacts with the iron oxides in the ore, forming slag.
This slag is a byproduct of the process and aids in expunging unwanted impurities, thereby enhancing the quality of the resultant wrought iron.
After a while, Rem makes her entrance. She gazes at Otto with curiosity, but he confidently introduces himself.
"Otto Suwen, it's a pleasure to work here," Otto says, not inclining himself before Rem. "I'm new to this establishment."
Rem regards Otto with disdain as she scrutinizes him thoroughly before casting an inquisitive glance in my direction.
"I understand it may seem untrustworthy, but I have full confidence in his abilities," I assure Rem.
Otto looks at both Rem and me and exclaims, "It's not very polite to say that!"
Once the tension between them subsides, I explain to Otto that he should follow Rem. She will take his measurements to ensure he has suitable attire and accompany him throughout the afternoon to acquaint him with all the factories and other vital facilities.
Rem approaches me, inclining her head to speak softly, "Are you sure about including him in all of this?"
Rem's concern is understandable, considering Otto is a complete stranger to her. Moreover, granting such a high rank to someone can be perilous.
If it weren't for my purpose behind this decision, I wouldn't have done it. But having Otto as an ally is a valuable card to play.
"Keep a close watch on him," I whisper, "We needed someone, and unfortunately, Clint doesn't inspire confidence in me."
No one close to Roswaal is trustworthy in my eyes. I'd rather take the risk with unknown individuals than accept Roswaal's recommendations.
Rem nods and leads Otto away. I linger for a while, finishing some documents. Just as I'm about to close my office, the door opens slowly. Beatrice enters with a smile on her face.
"Did you have fun?" I ask curiously as I watch her come in.
"Hmpf! I'm not telling you," she retorts with a mischievous smile as she surveys the room.
In her hands, Beatrice holds a sizable leather bag. Seeing that I've noticed, her expression shifts to a sly smile.
"We're going to do something truly special," she announces mysteriously.
I grasp instantly what she means, and so, with excitement coursing through me, I rise and approach her. Beatrice produces an orange crystal, and I can clearly sense its potent mana emanating from it.
"Yang magic possesses the ability to expel mana, I suppose," she remarks, intrigued. "Though it's quite rare, it's not something I've encountered before."
She goes on to explain that by creating a matrix combining yang and yin magic, we can absorb the surrounding mana and direct it to this place. With a sufficient amount of magical energy, we can establish a connection between the new laboratory and even link the mansion to my office.
"Furthermore, it will aid us in maintaining control over your gate while dealing with the miasma," Beatrice proudly asserts.
"You are undoubtedly my greatest blessing," I confess with pride, recalling my decision to form a contract with her.
She turns around shyly, embarrassed by my words, and in a soft whisper, she replies, "You are too, I suppose." I watch her with joy as she organizes the crystals.
After a few minutes, the yang crystals are positioned at each corner of the ceiling, and the yin crystals in the corners of the floor.
"Mana originates from the ground and mingles with the surrounding environment, thus creating an ongoing cycle," Beatrice confidently affirms. "However, since mana can be quite powerful in here, it won't be very strong. We'll need to wait for some time for enough energy to accumulate before we can use it again."
In the mansion, there is already a matrix installed by Echidna where mana flows seamlessly to the laboratory. Furthermore, since Beatrice has a contract with me, she utilizes my own mana for all her needs.
She has taught me how to absorb mana more effectively, and I've been practicing, but for now, it's just a preliminary setup. It's best not to expose myself to unnecessary dangers at this point.
It's one thing to do it within the safety of the mansion, but with so much distance between us, it would require a significant amount of mana. My gate has not completely suppressed the miasma surrounding it yet, so the most sensible course of action is to rest and wait.
During the afternoon, I visit the blacksmith, where the head blacksmith tells me that we'll need to hire more skilled hands.
"I place my trust in your recommendations, Baltasar," I convey with gravity, nodding earnestly. "You may relay to Rem to hire every available worker she can find. As our projects burgeon, the workload ahead of us will only grow.
Securing sufficient personnel is presently a complex endeavor, owing to economic constraints and the unfamiliarity of our activities to many common laborers.
The renown of our steam engine still predominantly circulates among the nobility, with little reaching those dedicated to laborious toil.
I am deeply anxious about the pressing need to bolster our workforce. It is imperative that we expand rapidly to confront any future adversities. If we were to face an attack at this very moment, there is no doubt that we would be utterly overwhelmed.
While Beatrice diligently works on establishing the magical matrix, I remain engrossed in my relentless duties. In the blink of an eye, night claims the sky, and all proceeds as usual.
The following day, my hours in the office are consumed by unwavering labor to conclude all pending contracts, while the townsfolk exhibit unwavering fortitude in their tasks.
In the afternoon, we decide to hold a funeral to honor the fallen soldiers, a poignant ceremony dedicated to the valiant souls who sacrificed their lives to protect their kin.
All are in attendance, paying solemn respects. It is a moment of unity and solace for the families who have lost their dearest loved ones. Once the ceremonial rites are concluded, I stand beside Luan, providing her with company during the interment of her family members.
We were only able to recover the bodies of her father, younger sister, and elder brother. Her mother remains unaccounted for, and we presume she lost her life in the forest.
Luan has endured two distressing days of waiting. Now that all the bodies have been properly cleaned and prepared, Roswaal, who has been tirelessly occupied, and I finally have a moment to converse. It is absolutely necessary to have this discussion today, as we are departing for the capital tomorrow.
As the coffins are lowered into the ground, Luan weeps, overwhelmed by grief. I couldn't bear to leave her alone in this moment of profound sorrow. Perhaps I should have informed Emilia, but she must focus on the impending elections.
An hour later, Luan turns toward me, her eyes shining with determination. She places her hand over her heart and declares with unwavering strength:"
"I aspire to join the army!"
Her determination is palpable, her eyes gleaming intensely in the darkness of this somber night. Beatrice instructs me to keep an eye on her and not allow her to leave.
I have no objections if she chooses to enlist, but Beatrice has specifically requested that I keep her alive as she wishes to investigate her more thoroughly.
I concur; a body capable of dispelling the miasma sown by an archbishop must be something extraordinary.
"You will undergo the examination during the next recruitment round," I say seriously, attempting to align myself with her overflowing emotions. "However, first, you must attend classes at the academy."
I scrutinize her closely as I utter these words laden with responsibility.
"Do not concern yourself with money or similar matters; study at ease, and if you still desire to join the army, I will include you on the official roster."
She nods solemnly and bids a warm farewell to her family. Once we arrive at the mansion, we go our separate ways to fulfill our respective tasks for the day: I will confer with Roswaal and agree on the course of action.
He receives me in the company of Ram, both appearing composed.
As for me, I feel as though an entire building rests upon my shoulders. The situation is overwhelming.
"Wha~~t a pleasure to see you!" exclaims Roswaal with joy as he invites me to sit. "Le~~t's talk."
I take a seat, and we commence the necessary conversation. He explains that there has been a delay due to an investigation into the list of all the candidates and their socio-political ally.
It appears that someone was arrested for selling this list, and the offender will supposedly be dead soon.
"A cover-up..."
A common occurrence everywhere, seizing the turmoil to eliminate those who obstruct your plans. In my world, it's a tactic used in various situations; nothing unusual when dealing with bureaucracy.
"Exa~~ctly, " responds Roswaal as he produces a letter. "I have been investigating on my own, but all traces of the issu~~e have been era~~sed. News of the cult's attacks in my domain reached me thro~~ugh an anonymous letter, to~~o late for direct interventi~~on. However, thanks to yo~~ur magnificent work, we were able to sa~~ve this town."
It is even stranger to think that a mere letter was the chosen means of communication.
No, it is undoubtedly a ruse; he knew of the attack, and that was likely his aim: to gain notoriety to ascend to the throne.
"If that is the case, we must be thankful in some way," I smile as I address what truly matters. "Can we attribute the cult's defeat to ourselves?"
Roswaal nods with joy. The massacre in the villages spread rapidly, and the exact whereabouts of the archbishop are still unknown.
"My word will be enough to claim that victory," he asserts proudly.
I suppose that is the benefit of having him here; his position as the protector of Lugunica grants us some influence in all of this. It means we can proceed according to plan.
The next matter is Emilia's standing; I already have some prior references, but it would be ideal to have some support within the bureaucracy.
"Is there any ally without prejudice against Emilia?"
Roswaal reflects for a few seconds; it seems my question is more complex than anticipated. The reason I need to know is that if we begin to grow, in the future, we could establish agreements with that person, become more involved in Lugunica, and build a solid information network.
"There are two potential wise men," Roswaal responds seriously. "However, I have not had the chance to establish solid contact with them before the official commencement. Wise men choose whom they will support, as they see this as a competition for positions once a ruler is chosen.
Things do not change, no matter the world we find ourselves in.
With this premise clear, it is evident that we must select the best possible candidates. We must demonstrate that we have potential, above all, show our strength and ability to achieve it.
"So, it would be ideal if you could arrange a private meeting between Emilia and both wise men," I propose.
Roswaal looks at me with surprise, and even Ram appears bewildered by my suggestion. In that moment, I realize my mistake: I have let my guard down and revealed something I shouldn't have.
I chastise myself internally; their story is not the same as the one in the book, and I am not the same protagonist of that narrative.
"I understand your point, but I believe it should be you who accompanies Emilia to provide support during that conversation," Roswaal responds with intrigue in his eyes.
Ram momentarily directs her gaze at Roswaal before fixing it squarely upon me.
"I am not saying otherwise; of course, I will assist her in articulating herself correctly. What I wanted to emphasize is that she must be the one to speak," I quickly clarify.
Roswaal smiles, accepting my words. An internal sigh relieves the momentary pressure; I don't know if it was just my imagination or if I'm worrying too much.
I sincerely hope that everything goes well.
If I truly am a part of the book, then there is someone more capable of escaping from it.
When the right time comes, I will put an end to Roswaal; but for that, I need to stand out, to make myself noticed.
Perhaps I should stir up a little commotion during the elections.