Blacksmithing Is Child’s Play for a Dark Mage - Chapter 52

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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 52
Anton was walking toward the administrative office.
It had been only a short time since the autumn harvest ended, and the Territory still radiated the joy of reaping what had been sown.
Anton had been living in this Territory for more than a year now.
When he first arrived, he’d been honest about his anxiety.
He’d worried about what horrors awaited in the domain of a Black Mage, and it was true that the sight of Skeleton Soldiers wandering the streets had sent chills down his spine.
But things were different now.
The farmland assigned to him had yielded a rich harvest this autumn.
The soil was so fertile that planting a single grain of wheat returned tenfold, and when he spread fertilizer as the administrator had taught him, the crops grew as if possessed.
After paying his taxes and the interest on his debt, he still had a surplus left over.
For the first time in his life, he knew what comfort felt like.
When he returned home, his wife was smiling.
His daughter was smiling too.
That child who had wept from hunger every day in the slums of Harundel now had plump cheeks and played with other children her age.
For that alone, Anton was certain that coming to this Territory had been the best decision of his life.
This morning, that same Anton had received a summons.
The administrative office was calling in the residents one by one.
It wasn’t just Anton—his neighbor had told him that they were working through the free farmers of the Territory in order.
He didn’t know what it was about, but when the administrator called, you went.
The administrative office had a long queue.
Some twenty people stood ahead of Anton, and more continued to trickle in behind him.
The people in line murmured among themselves, but all wore the same bewildered expression.
“Maybe they’re raising taxes?”
“No way. We already paid the harvest tax.”
“If the administrator is calling us in, it’s probably some new policy.”
Anton waited his turn with equal parts anxiety and curiosity.
After a long wait, at last it was Anton’s turn.
He stepped inside the administrative office, where the administrator sat behind a wooden desk.
The administrator had been writing something on parchment but looked up at the sound of his entry.
“Your name?”
“Anton, sir.”
The administrator checked the roster and nodded.
Then he reached into a small box on the desk and held out an object to Anton.
It was a ring.
A strange ring that appeared to be made of bone.
Its surface was inscribed with incomprehensible markings, and even someone of Anton’s station could sense that this was no ordinary item.
“What is this?”
Anton asked cautiously.
“It is ‘labor’ crafted by the lord himself.”
“Pardon?”
“An Undead. A ring for controlling Skeleton Soldiers.”
The administrator spoke matter-of-factly.
“Along with this ring, I’ll distribute twelve Skeleton Soldiers to you. Use them for land reclamation on your fields.”
“I’m sorry—what exactly is this?”
Anton doubted his own ears.
A ring to control Skeleton Soldiers? They were giving such a thing to a mere farmer like himself?
The administrator, apparently used to such bewildered expressions, continued his explanation with steady composure.
He explained that putting on the ring would allow Anton to issue simple commands to the Skeleton Soldiers.
He explained that they would not tire, so they could dig and move stones day and night.
But since they couldn’t handle complex work, he was to use them only for simple labor such as land reclamation and earthmoving.
He also briefly informed Anton that the ring was bound to him personally, and losing it would be troublesome.
“As it happens, the first three months are free.”
The administrator added this final note.
“After those three months, you’ll owe a monthly usage fee. I’ll notify you of the amount separately, so keep that in mind.”
“Ah… Yes, I understand.”
Anton received the ring in a daze.
The bone ring was lighter than he expected, and its texture was peculiar—neither cold nor warm.
As he exited the administrative office, twelve Skeleton Soldiers stood in a line outside, waiting.
Anton looked up at them.
They were not the heavily armored, towering ones deployed for the Territory’s defense—those fearsome giants—but Skeleton Soldiers of ordinary size.
Still, they’d grown to about human height, and a faint light flickered in their hollow eye sockets.
Twelve Skeleton Soldiers trailed obediently behind Anton.
Land reclamation with these things?
He was utterly dumbfounded.
A few days later.
Anton let out a cry of jubilation.
“This… this actually works!?”
The twelve Skeleton Soldiers dug without pause. They dug at night. They dug at dawn.
When Anton woke from sleep, the land that had been choked with grass and stones the night before lay cleanly turned.
Tree stumps had been uprooted, stones piled to one side.
What would have taken Anton alone a month, the twelve Skeleton Soldiers accomplished in three days.
Madness.
Free labor!
Well, technically not free—he’d owe a usage fee in three months—but at this rate of efficiency, he’d recoup that fee many times over.
Anton gazed upon the newly reclaimed farmland, and his eyes grew hot with tears.
Before, even when he and his wife worked all day until their backs screamed, they could barely reclaim a single plot.
But now, with just a ring on his finger and a command, twelve Skeleton Soldiers did the work of their own accord.
Anton knelt before the reclaimed field.
He clasped his hands together and closed his eyes.
“Lord… thank you.”
He meant it with all his heart.
Food provided, a home given, his daughter healed, farmland granted.
And now, labor itself.
“Please. May the Lord bless and keep you.”
Anton’s prayer always ended with the same words.
But the weight of sincerity behind those words grew heavier with each passing day.
* * *
“This is insane.”
Autumn passed, and winter began.
Tay stood atop the roof of the lord’s mansion, looking out over the Territory in astonishment.
In mere months, the farmland had expanded.
Dramatically.
The farmland Tay had personally created by commanding Skeleton Soldiers.
And the farmland Rant had additional reclaimed through careful planning.
Together, they equaled the original farmland’s total area.
But now, spread before his eyes, the farmland covered 1.6 times that area.
In just two months, an additional sixty percent of the original farmland’s area had been reclaimed.
Who had done it?
The Territory’s residents.
Whether serf or freedman, those who received the rings for commanding Skeleton Soldiers had voluntarily deployed them to reclaim new farmland.
More farmland meant more grain harvested; more grain meant more coin.
That simple, powerful incentive had driven the Territory’s people to act.
“So this is the power of the free market…”
Tay could only marvel.
In truth, farmland reclamation had been an inefficient undertaking until now.
Tay had personally commanded thousands of Skeleton Soldiers to dig, and Rant had planned the schedules and managed operations.
With both of them doing everything directly, bottlenecks were inevitable.
But then he’d released the Skeleton Soldier command rings to the common people, and this was the result.
Or rather, this achievement.
What the Territory’s residents accomplished on their own initiative, each pursuing their own profit, exceeded more than half of what Tay and Rant had labored to accomplish together.
“Lord, at this rate, the farmland could double in area by next spring.”
Rant arrived on the roof carrying a report. The fact that he’d climbed all the way up here suggested the news was urgent.
“Double?”
“Yes. Winter prevents planting, but the Skeleton Soldiers handle the digging themselves, so it’s not season-dependent. The residents have been working non-stop through the winter. Skeleton Soldiers don’t suffer from cold, after all.”
“Then come spring, when we plant…”
“Production could increase several times over from this year’s yield.”
Tay scratched his head.
It wasn’t a jest—the structure was such that the more he increased the population, the more agricultural output could skyrocket.
More people meant more recipients for the rings; those who received them reclaimed farmland of their own accord.
More farmland meant increased production; increased production meant feeding a larger population.
Money duplicating itself like that!
“Territory management is this easy?”
Tay laughed in disbelief.
Of course, none of this would have been possible without the Hunter System.
If he were just a necromancer, he couldn’t have managed it.
He wouldn’t have been able to command thousands of Skeleton Soldiers in the first place, and even if he could make them, there’d be no way to divide them up and distribute them among the territory’s residents.
It was only possible because the Death’s Dominator skill let him control low-grade Skeleton Soldiers infinitely.
“But there is a problem.”
“The number of Skeleton Soldiers, right?”
Rant grasped it immediately.
“Right. The more rings I unlock, the more Skeleton Soldiers we need. I’m still making them continuously, but…….”
Skeleton Soldier production.
This was work that Rant and Tay had to do by hand themselves.
Combining bones and infusing life force through Black Magic was something only a Black Mage could do.
There was a limit to how many Skeleton Soldiers Tay could produce in a day alone, and Rant was so swamped with administrative duties that he didn’t have time to dedicate to manufacturing.
Demand was skyrocketing while supply couldn’t keep pace.
“I’ll need to hire some debt mercenaries.”
Tay made his decision.
“I’m hiring multiple Black Mages specializing in Skeleton Soldier production. Class 1 to 2 level. Doesn’t matter how many. Bring everyone who can come.”
“Understood. I’ll put in a request with the Silver Shield Guild.”
And so the recruitment of debt mercenary Black Mages began.
* * *
Hui was traveling southward in a carriage drawn by a Bone Horse.
A Bone Horse.
An Undead creature made from the bones of a horse.
It was slower than a living horse and the ride was dreadfully uncomfortable, but it needed no feed and never tired—making it a useful means of transport for a poor Black Mage.
And Hui was poor.
A Class 2 Black Mage.
Whether due to a natural gift for Black Magic or simply exceptional aptitude, his Class advancement had been faster than his peers.
Most took over a decade to reach Class 2, yet he’d done it in just a few years—his talent was undeniable.
But having talent and earning money were two entirely different matters.
Hui still hadn’t paid off his debts.
Born in the slums, he’d come close to starving more than once in his childhood, and that experience had left him with a weakness: he lost all self-control in front of food.
Whenever he got money, he ate something delicious first.
He’d buy good liquor too.
“Just this month, just this month,” he’d tell himself as he opened his wallet, and his debts showed no signs of shrinking.
For someone like Hui, this new commission was extraordinary.
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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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