Chapter 19

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After returning to Marhas, things got even busier for us. And not just us—the whole village was in a frenzy.

First to arrive, under Saran’s arrangements, were the priests and clerics dispatched from the church headquarters. They reconstructed the shrine established in Marhas and strengthened the Pentagram Barrier, even expanding its coverage. Thanks to that, a part of the shallow zone of the unexplored region was now considered safe… and next came a flood of lumberjacks and carpenters sent from Hirte.

Literally a flood. There were more of them than the entire population of Marhas, and they immediately began clearing the forest and building sawmills.

For what purpose? To construct temporary shelters for the even greater influx of people to come. Apparently, Saran had everything meticulously scheduled: the order of arrival, headcounts, logistics. Despite this massive influx, there was almost no chaos. He even excluded areas like medicinal herb patches, creeks, and small springs from the development zones—spots that could be used as resources for industry. That same man who said, “The residents will have to abandon everything” was somehow still being mindful of such details.

In just a few weeks, the area that had once been my campsite was now filled with small cabins and log houses. Where the boundary between the village and forest used to be, a three-story inn now stood. It really showed just how overwhelming a swarm of skilled workers could be.

“Damn… I have no idea what’s going on anymore.”
“Me neither. The village tripled in size in just one month.”

Staring at the newly developed zone—which was now larger than the old Marhas—Rolo and I could only gape in awe. It wasn’t just us. The villagers must be feeling the same. Skilled laborers gathered from all over the kingdom had transformed our environment almost overnight. You’d have to be made of stone not to be stunned.

“We’re not done yet. One month really wasn’t enough time… but we’ve reached a certain milestone, at least.”

A voice sharp with nerves called out from behind us as we stood there in a daze. Turning around, we saw Saran, pale as a ghost, holding a thick bundle of papers.

“Hey… you look even worse than yesterday. Are you getting any sleep?”
“Don’t worry. I rest as needed.”

That sounded more like napping at random or passing out unconscious. He was clearly pushing himself too hard.

“You should sleep, Saran. If you collapse, all of this falls apart.”
“I’ve prepared mana potions for emergencies and already asked Fimia to help. And if necessary, I’ll count on your buff spells, Rolo.”
“That’s not the point.”

With a graceful flick of his fingers, Rolo released a soft, pale-blue mist that gently enveloped Saran. In that instant, the crafty four-eyes staggered from the magic’s effect.

“Whoa—”

I caught him before he could fall and glanced at Rolo.

“Casting magic without warning isn’t polite, you know.”
“If he’s too weak to resist my magic, then he has no business staying on his feet.”
“…You’re not wrong.”

I hoisted the unreasonably light strategist onto my shoulder, wondering what to do with him. There was only one person in Marhas I could rely on for this. Rolo seemed to pick up on my thoughts.

“Let’s take him to my place. Mom’s there—she’ll know how to take care of him.”
“Yeah, good idea. Let’s ask for dinner too. Your mom would force-feed this guy if she had to.”
“Yup. Saran’s definitely overworked. Way too dependent on magic and potions—it’s not healthy.”
“No kidding. People need proper food and sleep, or they fall apart.”

Whatever grand plan Saran had in mind, collapsing in the middle of it would ruin everything. Even Fimia’s healing spells and energy potions had their limits. You can’t stay alive on magic alone, human bodies just aren’t built that way.

From the so-called “New Town” residential zone, we made our way into the heart of old Marhas. We headed straight for the Mercia household.

“Oh my, Yulg’s kidnapped someone.”
“Don’t say it like that. Can we let this guy rest for a bit?”
“Oh, isn’t this sir Zolark? What happened to him?”

Seeing the pale and unconscious Saran, Rolo’s mother raised her eyebrows in surprise. Apparently, Saran had been getting along with the locals quite well—better than a “troublemaker” like me. He even had a good reputation in the village, and obviously, Rolo’s mother knew him by now.

“He overworked himself and collapsed. He needs a bed, a blanket, and soup.”
“I see. Then take him to Rolo’s room. When he wakes up, I’ll make sure he eats.”
“Thanks, Auntie.”

I nodded and walked through the Mercia house like I owned the place. In Rolo’s room, I gently laid Saran on the bed. Since it was a magic-induced sleep, he probably wouldn’t wake up easily—but I was careful just in case. I even removed his glasses. Wouldn’t want them breaking if he rolled over.

“Jeez… he really overdid it.”
“Yeah. But I think he’s enjoying himself.”
“Enjoying himself?”

That caught me off guard, and I tilted my head. How could anyone enjoy working themselves to this point?

“Saran always acts like things don’t concern him, right?”
“I know what you mean.”

Saran’s thought process was different from ours. At first, I thought it was a noble’s quirk, but the more people I met, the clearer it became—he was the outlier. All he cared about was producing results and reaping the accompanying glory. Everything else, he treated as trivial.

“This is just my personal impression… but I think Saran’s suited to be a king.”
“Hey now, your head’s gonna be in a bucket if somebody heard that.”
“Maybe. But, I kinda understand what he’s feeling.”

Rolo smiled softly as he looked down at the sleeping strategist.

“He sees a path that leads to great results, the right conditions to make it happen, and the right people to execute it—us. For Saran, this is probably so fun he doesn’t even want to sleep.”
“Well, if that’s the case, he should take care of himself so he can enjoy it longer.”
“Hehe, totally agree.”

Our king was working a bit too hard. Sure, I was the one who shouted that we had to protect Marhas, but I didn’t think he’d run himself into the ground doing it.

“Anyway, let’s let Saran rest. We’ve got work to do.”
“Yeah. In two days, the proclamation about the frontier town goes out to all the Adventurer Guilds in the region. Let’s do what we can while we can.”

Even with Saran asleep, there was still plenty to be done. This place was about to become the biggest frontier town in the East. And our busy days were far from over.

“Rolo! There’s been a monster sighting—north of the New Town!”

A voice shouted from outside the room. Before Rolo could respond, I answered for him:

“We’ll handle it! Tell the workers to retreat just in case!”