IHBWAT 14

[Name: Cliff Elimis]

• Level: 2

• Dignity: 3

• Elegance: 1

• Virtue: 1

The stat Cliff had increased was Dignity.

The oppressive aura that Theobald had sensed earlier was the result of that very attribute.

Neither Cliff nor Theobald understood that yet.

Still, there was a reason Cliff had chosen to raise it.

I’ve organized the soldiers to some extent, but I still lack the dignity befitting a lord.

It was regrettable.

If he had possessed an abundance of mana, he would have chosen another approach.

Fortunately, an unexpected reward had fallen into his lap.

A Slave Knight.

Those capable of using mana possessed techniques that were exceedingly rare.

Such skills could not be passed on to just anyone.

Normally, they were inherited only by blood relatives. Occasionally, however, slaves were taught these techniques.

Because slaves couldn’t betray their masters.

More accurately, betrayal was impossible.

Naturally, Slave Knights commanded enormous prices.

Even having enough money wasn’t enough to acquire one.

The very idea that someone like Beluman had possessed such a person was absurd.

“…It seems our master-servant contract has been properly established. But how exactly did Beluman obtain someone like you? No matter how many people he trafficked from this territory, it should have been impossible for him to acquire a knight.”

Slave Knights were rare.

Not merely expensive—their numbers were incredibly small.

And there were countless people who wanted them.

A knight’s combat ability without the burden of paying wages.

Just thinking about it made them seem like the ideal military asset.

There’s no way Beluman should’ve been able to get his hands on someone like that.

Someone of Theobald’s caliber was beyond the scale of a petty loan shark in a backwater territory.

“I previously belonged to another organization.”

Cliff’s eyes sharpened at Theobald’s answer.

Another organization.

It must have been powerful enough to possess someone like Theobald.

“That organization handed you over to Beluman?”

“We exchanged.”

“Exchanged?”

Theobald had been traded.

Which meant there had been a deal.

Beluman, a simple loan shark in a remote territory, had connections to a much larger organization.

And what had they exchanged him for?

“There are Shadow Wolves in this region, which means there are other shadow races as well. Beluman was fortunate enough to capture a child from one of those races.”

“A shadow race?”

At first, Cliff was confused.

Then his expression stiffened.

A race other than Shadow Wolves.

Something valuable enough to trade for a man like Theobald.

Only one possibility came to mind.

“…Don’t tell me… a Dark Elf?”

If ordinary elves wielded spirit arts and bows—

Dark Elves fought with shadows and daggers.

They were even rarer than elves and nearly impossible to encounter.

Certainly… no matter how valuable a Slave Knight is, they can’t compare to a Dark Elf.

Theobald nodded.

Hearing that, Cliff realized something.

So this territory has Dark Elves.

The mountains surrounding the territory.

The forests beyond them.

A Dark Elf village likely existed somewhere within those woods.

“Did you ever see any Dark Elves while living in the lodge?”

“I did. But if you’re considering capturing and selling them as Beluman did, I’d advise against it.”

Cliff frowned.

“Are you insane? I’d rather hunt the monstrous lake dragon than try to capture them.”

Theobald had already said Beluman had captured a Dark Elf child.

That had only been possible because the child had been young.

Fighting adult Dark Elves is out of the question.

They were born assassins.

If you encountered them in the forest, you might as well consider yourself dead.

Moreover, after losing one of their children, the Dark Elves would undoubtedly be more cautious now.

They would never allow their children to wander freely again.

Which meant…

If Theobald encountered them, they must’ve been adults. Guards, most likely. That’s incredible. To think he survived meeting Dark Elf sentries…

That only increased Cliff’s interest.

“Then what’s inside the lodge?”

“There’s an underground prison used to temporarily hold those destined to become slaves. Aside from that, there are enough imported wheat supplies to fill two rooms.”

The corners of Cliff’s mouth lifted.

“…Now that’s the best news I’ve heard all day.”

* * *

Winter was approaching.

Cliff frowned.

Wasn’t a basin supposed to be warm?

There wasn’t a single thing favorable about this territory.

The summers were scorching.

The winters were freezing.

Every possible hardship had been gathered into one place.

Winter was a season of death for the villagers.

“How are preparations for winter progressing?”

“Each household is preparing firewood, food, and clothing. But there’s a limit to what common homes can manage. The most realistic solution is to gather together in cramped spaces and survive the winter by sharing body heat.”

“…Seriously?”

In truth, even nobles used a similar method.

Human heaters.

They slept embracing women who had bathed in hot water to keep warm.

Of course, nobles also had cotton blankets and fur garments.

But there was a problem.

“Those things are rare in this territory, aren’t they?”

“Yes. The only nearby beasts are Shadow Wolves, and they…”

“They don’t leave behind hides. One day, I’m definitely skinning those damn mutts.”

Cliff clicked his tongue at his impossible vow.

The only real hope lay in the fifty geese Tom had brought him.

Even then, there had originally been fifty.

Breeding season had already passed.

Instead of increasing, their numbers had decreased.

If only I’d had more time…

Now, there were forty-eight geese in the territory.

No other livestock existed.

The geese had recently molted, and the collected feathers were substantial.

But still nowhere near enough to distribute among the villagers.

I need more geese. And more livestock besides them.

It was a problem he’d been considering for some time.

Yet an even more troubling issue remained.

“More importantly, the trees growing here produce harsh smoke when burned as firewood. Accidents caused by smoke poisoning happen quite often.”

There was a shortage of proper fuel.

“Hmm? I’ve never noticed anything like that.”

“That’s because the lord’s residence uses Blackwood.”

“Blackwood?”

Cliff tilted his head.

“It’s processed wood used as fuel. It produces less smoke and retains heat longer. After processing, it turns black, which is why it’s called Blackwood.”

Cliff immediately understood.

Isn’t that just charcoal?

Since arriving here, he’d always lived like a noble.

He’d never inspected firewood personally.

Even when he heard reports, they hadn’t truly registered.

Now he understood why.

The manor had been using charcoal all along.

“Then couldn’t the villagers simply use charcoal—I mean, Blackwood too?”

“They could…”

Nigel hesitated.

“But Blackwood production is limited. The previous lord established a law permitting its use only to those who received the lord’s authorization.”

Cliff suddenly understood the inefficiency of this era.

Right. This is a feudal society.

A world where the lord’s word was law.

Blackwood—charcoal—was a resource under the lord’s direct control.

Only nobles and those granted permission could use it.

In other words, the right to use charcoal could be sold for profit.

Someone like Beluman had undoubtedly used it.

But ordinary villagers had been forbidden from doing so.

“Tch.”

Cliff clicked his tongue.

Even a lord couldn’t easily overturn the decrees of previous rulers.

Still, it was fortunate.

At least there’s a loophole.

Cliff spoke.

“Then I’ll authorize it. As Acting Lord, I hereby permit every resident of this territory to produce and use Blackwood.”

“…!”

Nigel’s eyes widened.

He looked deeply moved.

But concern still lingered.

“The production of Blackwood has its limits.”

“Do you use kilns?”

“…Kilns?”

Nigel looked puzzled.

Cliff sighed.

“I was wondering because I never saw any while touring the territory. There aren’t any charcoal kilns here.”

“That’s true, but… what exactly is a kiln?”

Even Cliff didn’t know the details perfectly.

But that was fine.

The territory already possessed the knowledge and skills necessary to make charcoal.

If I explain the general concept, they’ll figure out the rest.

In Cliff’s common sense, charcoal came from kilns.

Even without one, charcoal could be made using primitive methods by covering wood with earth.

The failure rate was simply higher.

“Let’s try it first. Bring Anton and Ben.”

Those two craftsmen had been personally selected by Cliff for their skillful hands.

He ordered them to build a kiln.

Fortunately, the territory had plenty of clay.

They used it to build walls and construct a kiln with a small chimney.

Wood was loaded inside.

The kiln was sealed.

They maintained a small fire to keep it burning while carefully controlling the oxygen supply.

Thus, charcoal production began.

This has to work…

The kiln before them was only a prototype.

Making charcoal took time.

The biggest concern was whether the kiln itself had been built correctly.

As Cliff watched over it, his eyes suddenly brightened.

Blue smoke!

Normally, burning wood produced thick white smoke.

But now, the color shifted to blue.

It meant the charcoal production had succeeded.

“It worked!”

Cliff raised both arms and cheered.

And the moment charcoal was successfully produced, something completely unexpected happened.

-[Environment] Category Level has increased.

He hadn’t done anything extraordinary.

Yet the category level rose.

-Territory Experience +100

-Territory Level Increased

Territory experience accumulated as well.

At that moment, Cliff realized something.

Territory levels can increase even without quests!

He’d been disappointed by the lack of quests.

But now—

-A new quest has been generated.