Blacksmithing Is Child’s Play for a Dark Mage - Chapter 62

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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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Chapter 62
Tay watched Partan in silence.
The man was right.
Only Tay’s ability made it possible to maintain Undead indefinitely.
Rant was a Black Mage too, but the number he could control was limited, and he couldn’t command Tay’s Undead in his stead.
In other words, if Tay left the territory, the thousands of Skeletal Soldiers would only follow the simple orders he’d left behind before departing.
Kill monsters if they come. Don’t cross the territory’s borders. Orders that simple.
Active judgment was impossible.
If enemies moved strategically, they couldn’t respond at all.
When enemies actually attacked, they wouldn’t fight back in the first place.
No order had been given to attack humans.
They couldn’t react flexibly to unexpected situations.
Skeletal Soldiers were strong, but Skeletal Soldiers without a commander were no better than scarecrows.
“Human troops are necessary, my lord. Without command authority during your absence, problems will arise later.”
Tay nodded.
Sound reasoning.
There was value in having a capable vassal.
It was something Tay himself hadn’t thought through.
Or rather, he’d thought of it but deprioritized it.
He’d been intoxicated by the sheer numbers of Skeletal Soldiers and overlooked the necessity of human troops.
“Good. You have my permission.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“Where do you intend to recruit them?”
“I think it best to do so in Harundel.”
Not the Maker Barony, but Harundel itself.
The reason was simple.
The Maker Barony had a population of ten thousand.
Remove a thousand from that, and the labor force suffers. Farmers and craftspeople would be lost.
But Harundel was different.
A great city overflowed with the poor—people surviving hand to mouth, desperately scraping by, clustered along Bronze Street.
“Recruit a thousand paupers. And accept their families as well.”
“Their families too?”
“Yes. If you bring only soldiers, desertion becomes a risk. But if you settle them with their families in the territory, they put down roots. With family present, they have no reason to flee—and motivation to defend the lands.”
Tay felt genuine admiration stir within him.
Partan. This man was no mere accountant. He understood how to handle people.
“And accepting poor families increases the territory’s population. If we say a thousand soldiers have an average of three family members each, we’re adding nearly three thousand to our numbers.”
“Two birds with one stone.”
“Three birds, my lord. Recruitment, population growth, and spreading word of the Maker Baronial House throughout Harundel.”
Tay smiled.
“A proposal I like. See to it at once.”
“As you command, my lord.”
Partan bowed.
It was a moment in which Tay felt the true worth of a single capable servant.
* * *
The Maker Barony was flourishing.
The harvests were excellent.
Naturally so—the Bio-Fertilizer System remained intact, Skeletal Soldiers aided in farming, and the territory’s people wielding Undead Control Rings put them to work as well.
This year’s bumper crop was assured, and the barony’s granaries overflowed with grain.
The trading port, too, began to stir to life.
At first, only a small merchant vessel or two had drifted in and out sporadically, but as word spread, medium-sized cargo ships began arriving.
What drew merchants most of all was the Maker Barony’s signature good.
The Skeleton Control Ring of Light Compulsion.
An exclusive product only Tay could create.
The sole and unique item that allowed ordinary people to command Undead.
Merchants seeking these rings came by ship and road in an endless stream.
The rings were not all.
Bone Swords. Bone Spears. Bone Shovels. Bone Pickaxes. Various tools and weapons crafted from bone sold steadily.
Though they lacked the durability of iron tools, their cost was less than half the price—attractive enough for poor farmers and small mercenary bands.
The merchants’ trading pattern was roughly this:
They bought rings and bone weapons. They bought chickens and grain. And they left behind large quantities of bone.
Bones.
Bones were what Tay bought in the greatest quantities.
Though he operated a poultry yard, chicken bones alone fell woefully short.
Chicken bones served only as material for crafting tools or Necromancy consumables; they were useless for creating Skeletal Soldiers themselves.
Skeletal Soldiers required the bones of humanoid monsters.
Beyond that, even the volume was inadequate.
Medium Skeletal Soldiers continued to increase by the month.
The Skeletal Soldier factory produced hundreds of units monthly, yet there were days when production ground to a halt for lack of bones.
And outfitting all the Medium Skeletal Soldiers entirely with bone weapons demanded a staggering quantity of scrap bone.
A single Bone Sword required bones from three or four bodies.
A single Bone Shield needed bones from five or six.
To equip thousands of Skeletal Soldiers entirely in bone arms and armor would require what amounted to mountains of the stuff.
In short, he needed to procure humanoid monster bones in bulk and maintain a constant supply of miscellaneous bone.
Once word spread that he was buying bones, merchants began appearing who specialized exclusively in bone trade.
Orc bones from slain beasts, Gnoll bones brought by hunters, even Hobgoblin bones shipped from distant lands—suppliers began materializing.
But even so.
Tay was profiting enormously.
Rings cost mere silver pieces to manufacture, yet sold for five hundred; bone weapons too carried substantial margins over material costs.
Poultry and grain came from his own production, so raw costs were negligible.
Even after deducting what he spent on acquiring bones, the profits were staggering.
And Tay alone was not the sole beneficiary.
As merchants began frequenting the territory, changes rippled through the barony.
Inns multiplied. What had been one became two, then three.
Taverns opened. General stores appeared.
Even exchange houses for merchant dealings spontaneously emerged.
All of it arose organically from the people themselves.
Tay had given no orders. As money began circulating through the territory, people simply took initiative and launched enterprises.
Two more poultry restaurants opened. Competition spurred better service.
The civilian economy was coming alive.
In his office, Tay reviewed the monthly report Rant had submitted, nodding as he read.
‘Excellent.’
Rising barony revenues.
Population growth.
Thriving civilian economy.
Increased harbor usage.
Nothing but good tidings.
At this rate, it seemed certain that the Maker Barony would become one of the most formidable territories within the Harundel Marquisate by year’s end.
Already in capital, none within the Harundel Marquisate could match him; his standing force alone numbered a thousand, and Medium Skeletal Soldiers had now reached eight thousand.
With numbers like that, his forces could genuinely stand toe-to-toe with the Marquess himself!!
Of course, if the Marquess personally took to the field and unleashed his Summoned Creatures, defeat would be certain.
A single Superhuman represented a force unto themselves—incomparable in might.
Yet among the Counts and Barons, none dared compare themselves to the Maker Baronial House.
But precisely for that reason.
Tay knew he must redouble his efforts toward Level advancement.
True Superhuman strength.
An existence like Grimoire the Marquess—one who, merely by summoning creatures, wielded military power equivalent to thousands.
Such a being represented asymmetric warfare incarnate.
Take a simple example.
Grimoire the Marquess mounts a flying Summoned Creature.
He flies toward Tay’s territory and unleashes creatures to assault it.
Then he simply withdraws.
With nothing but Hit and Run tactics, Tay’s barony would be obliterated—no question.
Terrifying, was it not?
No matter how many Skeletal Soldiers—eight thousand strong—a single Superhuman revealing their true power could overturn the entire situation.
Of course, a Superhuman could not topple eight thousand Skeletal Soldiers in a single stroke, but that offered little comfort.
The fact itself—that a threat loomed overhead.
That alone kindled a sense of crisis.
‘I too must become a Superhuman.’
In his past life, Tay had been a Crafter-class Hunter.
He was not a combatant type.
But this life is different.
A Black Mage, a Crazy Craftsman, and a warrior.
He possessed three Classes, and grew stronger with each level gained.
The problem was time.
Balancing the management of his domain with leveling up was not easy.
He’d managed to raise his Black Mage level to 4 at the Trenkle Ant Dungeon, but it wasn’t enough.
He needed to go higher. Much higher.
At least to the level of a Superhuman.
That meant reaching level 11 as a Black Mage—wielding fifth-class Dark Magic.
He was thinking exactly this when it happened.
Suddenly.
Or rather, it came too abruptly to call it coincidence.
* * *
“My lord! An urgent report!”
Partan burst into the office. Despite his background as a knight, his posture remained composed even in this pressing moment, though his voice carried unmistakable tension.
“What is it?”
“Monsters are appearing en masse in the Northern Mountain Range to the north of your domain. Our Skeletal Soldier patrols are engaged with them, but their numbers continue to grow.”
Tay’s eyes narrowed.
“The Northern Mountain Range? That’s practically next door, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Only half a day’s journey from the domain’s boundary.”
Tay rose from his seat.
A mountain right at his domain’s edge. Monsters suddenly pouring out of it like madness. There was only one thing this could mean.
“A Dungeon has formed.”
A Dungeon.
A natural congregation of Magical Power.
A place where unique rules existed within, and monsters spawned endlessly.
When a new Dungeon appeared, it was typical for monsters to flood outward until the internal Magical Power stabilized.
“Partan. Assemble the standing garrison. Move the Skeletal Soldiers northward as well.”
“Understood!”
Partan dashed from the room.
Tay gazed out the window.
Beyond the ridgeline of the Northern Mountain Range, something felt dimly shadowed. It might have been his imagination.
‘A Dungeon right next to my domain……’
Normally, this would be a catastrophe. Monsters pouring endlessly from the very edge of one’s domain. Any ordinary lord would be tearing his hair out.
But Tay was different.
The corner of his mouth rose.
‘Actually, this is perfect.’
It was as if a leveling ground had just appeared on his doorstep.
The Black Mage is Too Strong for a Blacksmith
Author |
Automaton G
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Samyang C&C Corp.
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Editorial Department
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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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