Blacksmithing Is Child’s Play for a Dark Mage - Chapter 113

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 113
Food to feed the soldiers. Iron to forge weapons. Wages to pay them. All of it was a resource, and war was nothing but a war of attrition where both sides ground away those resources against each other.
“You’ve toppled numerous territories in the rear for us. Thanks to that, Salcatna’s total resource reserves have plummeted dramatically. An army with an empty granary will crumble eventually, no matter how strong it is—that’s simply how it works.”
In other words, Tay’s winter campaign had been quietly gnawing away at the supply depots of the Salcatna Earl’s army from behind the scenes.
In front, the Marquess hammered away. Behind, Tay emptied the storehouses.
Squeezed from both sides, Salcatna was already nothing but a hollow shell by the time spring arrived.
Tay genuinely agreed with those words.
“A most astute observation, sir.”
In truth, the same could be said of a mage’s battles.
The magical power one possesses. The total quantity of magical items prepared during times of peace. These things directly translate into fighting strength.
A mage who runs out of magical power is just an old man holding a staff, and a third-class mage with mountains of scrolls and magical tools readily defeats an unprepared fourth-class mage more often than not.
In the end, all things in this world come down to a struggle over resources. It’s no different from a battle of bank balances.
‘When you think about it, I’m standing at the absolute extreme of that spectrum.’
Soldiers from unlimited corpse refills. Food entirely unnecessary.
No wage expenditure whatsoever.
If war’s true nature is a war of attrition, then my Undead Legion is a cheat code that mocks that very essence head-on!
It’s like fighting with an infinite granary while everyone else frets over their stores.
Perhaps it was precisely because the Marquess had grasped this point from the beginning that he’d taken such pains to draw Tay in.
In an age of attrition, an army that never attrites.
The Marquess—the one who had ruled Harundel all this time—had calculated that value with perfect clarity.
‘A truly formidable man, I must admit.’
Tay lifted his teacup, marveling anew at the insight before him.
After taking a sip, Tay carefully broached the main subject.
“Is there a particular reason you’ve summoned me like this, my lord?”
The formal recognition of merit would surely be announced publicly at the celebration feast.
But to call him alone before that? This meant there were things to settle beforehand, away from official eyes.
“There is.”
The Marquess set down his cup and replied matter-of-factly.
“Your merits are too excessive.”
“Well… I suppose that is so, sir.”
Tay readily acknowledged it.
He knew better than anyone that his merits were excessive.
In two years, he’d single-handedly consumed nine territories. Even if you combined all the accomplishments of the Marquess’s vassals working together, they couldn’t match what Tay alone had achieved.
It wasn’t merely excessive—it overflowed.
Among viscounts and barons, there was virtually no noble who could surpass Tay.
Only lords of earl rank and above—those with superhuman power—stood any chance against him.
He wore the title of baron in name, but his actual standing had long since soared far beyond it.
A heavyweight fighter listed on the official charts as a flyweight—no wonder the other competitors were uneasy.
“So I thought it best to coordinate beforehand. I have a few proposals for you.”
“I’m listening.”
Tay straightened in his seat. At last, they’d reached the heart of the matter.
The Marquess traced his fingers lightly through the air as though sketching a map.
“I’ll give you all the unclaimed territory surrounding your domain. And the neighboring territories as well.”
……
“That’s roughly a fifth of my domain. By area alone, it’s twice what you’ve acquired from this war.”
In that instant, an abacus clattered inside Tay’s mind.
A fifth of the Harundel Marquessate. And moreover, consolidated as one continuous block around the Maker Barony.
“In exchange, you’re asking for the territories I’ve taken from Salcatna, then?”
“Precisely. A territorial exchange.”
As expected.
The scattered Salcatna territories that Tay had piecemeal devoured were now foreign fragments embedded deep within the Marquess’s own land.
From his perspective, having nine foreign enclaves lodged inside his domain was a headache. His desire to consolidate them was obvious.
And for Tay, too, scattered territory marked with gaps was a liability.
Their interests aligned perfectly at the point of mutual irritation.
But.
“The territory would indeed expand substantially, sir… though the population is scarcely half, is it not?”
Tay calculated coldly.
Doubling the land wasn’t cause for celebration.
What kind of land surrounded the Maker Barony? Barren frontier territory, naturally. The Salcatna holdings, by contrast, were choice lands developed over generations. Long-settled, productive.
By sheer acreage, it seemed a profitable trade. But in terms of population, it was an even swap for half.
A domain’s true strength lies not in the size of its territory but in the number of people who inhabit it.
In real estate terms, it’s like being asked to trade empty land for an apartment in a prime location. On these terms, I’d be losing money.
The Marquess wouldn’t fail to see that calculation. Sure enough, he sweetened the offer almost at once.
“Then we shall grant you a Tariff Exemption Privilege for twenty years.”
A Tariff Exemption Privilege!
Now that was substantial.
As an independent domain rather than a vassal of Harundel, Tay had no obligation to pay taxes to the Marquessate. But that applied only to territorial taxes themselves.
Commercial tariffs were a separate matter entirely.
Every good that crossed a domain’s border carried a toll attached to it. For merchandise flowing through Harundel, the continent’s greatest commercial city, such fees became astronomical.
Until now, Tay had foregone collecting tariffs in his own domain.
The constant flow of merchants coming and going was itself more profitable. The logic was that a shop bustling with customers need not collect booth fees.
Besides, Tay’s exports far outweighed his imports.
Bone Spears. Water Magical Tools. Grain. All of it flowed outward from Tay’s domain as goods for sale.
But if Harundel granted him tariff exemption? That would be an extraordinary privilege.
For the next twenty years, he could inject goods into the continent’s largest market with a tariff-free pass.
While competing merchants labored under tariff burdens, Tay’s goods would enjoy a wholesale cost advantage over all rivals.
This was no mere parcel of land—it was a twenty-year goose that laid golden eggs.
And beyond all that.
The offer aligned perfectly with his own ambitions.
He had long intended to consolidate the Maker Barony with its neighboring territories anyway.
All the city-planning calculations he’d been rolling over in his mind during the ride home.
The first step—territorial consolidation—and the Marquess had just placed it on the table himself.
What Tay had expected to peddle as a necessity, the other side was now offering to purchase with added sweetener.
‘This is rich. Finding a reason to refuse would be harder than accepting.’
Tay glanced at the Marquess over the rim of his teacup.
The centuries-old ruler wore a smile whose depths remained inscrutable, waiting for Tay’s answer.
Tay did not deliberate for long.
“I accept. I shall follow Your Highness’s wishes.”
The scales had already balanced. The domain would be unified into a single block, and a twenty-year tariff exemption came bundled with it. There was no reason to haggle over such terms.
Yet at Tay’s forthright response, it was the Marquess who showed a flicker of surprise.
“Quite the swift answer. Were you already considering my proposal?”
“Not at all.”
Tay demurred smoothly.
Of course, it was an outright lie.
All the way back, he had been flicking through the calculations of territorial exchange like beads on an abacus. But revealing his hand with “Actually, I was already thinking the same thing” was not how a negotiator conducted himself.
One kept one’s true thoughts buried.
The Marquess let a thin smile play at the corners of his mouth.
“Hah hah. You never cease to surprise me.”
“Your kind attention is greatly appreciated.”
“Then return home. We shall meet again at the ceremony.”
“Then, I wish Your Highness peace.”
Tay offered a formal bow and withdrew from the study.
And.
The space where Tay had vanished, the Harundel Marquess regarded in silence.
In the ruler’s eyes, a glimmer of curiosity—rare and piercing—danced and flickered.
“Truly…… a captivating creature.”
The soft murmur dissolved quietly into the study’s air.
Had Tay heard those words, a chill would have run down his spine. Few things were more dangerous than the word “captivating” falling from the lips of an unmarried noble of great station.
* * *
After withdrawing from the study, Tay remained at the Harundel estate for several more days.
And at last, he attended the victory banquet ceremony.
At the head table of the grand hall sat the Harundel Marquess, with hundreds of nobles arrayed in rank below him.
And soon the ceremony of honors began.
One by one, names were called and nobles stepped forward.
“In recognition of your valor, we elevate your rank…….”
“To you, we grant the manor of a certain region…….”
One. Then another. Then another still.
Names called. Honors praised. Gifts bestowed. Gratitude expressed. Cheers raised. The cycle repeated without end.
‘Ah. How tedious and draining this all is.’
Tay wore a noble smile across his face while swallowing yawn after yawn in the privacy of his mind.
This feels like being dragged to someone else’s graduation ceremony. Names being called endlessly, applause to give, nowhere to sit comfortably. Legs going numb, back aching.
‘I’d rather be running a siege. At least that’s done in a day.’
It was a sentiment turned upside-down — that an event was harder than war — but it was sincere.
The dialogue hovering over my shoulder had kept its mouth firmly shut, at least for today.
There was no telling what disaster might unfold if it spoke up in a formal setting, so Tay had given it strict prior warning.
Of course, the price for that silence came with a condition: ‘Once it’s over, please let me talk as much as I want!’ Silence comes with a fee.
And so, after several days of festivities had finally ended.
Tay at last packed his things and headed home.
“Master! It’s finally over! Ah, this dialogue, to speak freely again after so many days! Silence was torture for me! A veritable hell! Hahahaha!”
Inside the carriage heading back, the dialogue unleashed several days’ worth of chatter all at once.
—Contractor. Is there no way to seal that mouth again?
“No. Give up.”
A Black Mage is Too Easy for a Blacksmith
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Automaton G
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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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