Chapter 104 : Development Plan

Chapter 104: Development Plan

By the time we left the uninhabited island and arrived at the Lord’s Keep of Rundna, the morning sun was already blazing.

As soon as my younger siblings reached the floor where our lodgings were, they ran down the corridor and scattered into their own rooms.

“Uwaa! Home!”

“Finally, rest….”

“Ugh… even washing up feels like too much.”

The sound of a window sliding open to let in the cool autumn breeze. The splash, splash of bodies sinking into pre-prepared bathtubs. The bustle of noises tickled at my ears.

I, too, longed for a bathtub and a bed, but there was something I needed to do first.

“Sorry, but Seah and Asha. You two will have to rest a little later.”

“Okay.”

“Ugh… I should’ve said we’d talk later….”

It was Seah who answered lightly, and Asha who dragged her words out with a groan.

We went up one more floor and sat around the tea table. The ceiling was high, and the outside breeze blew in so refreshingly that just sitting there eased some of the fatigue.

We sat in silence for a moment, sipping our tea blankly.

When I felt a little strength returning, I opened my mouth.

“So. You two developed a new bow?”

“Mhm. To be exact. It’s still at the idea stage. The one who came up with the concept and drew the draft design… is Seah. That’s why the bow’s name will be the ‘Seah Bow.’”

Really?

At Asha’s words, I turned my eyes to Seah.

“So this ‘Seah Bow’ is supposed to be better than the Black Bow?”

The Empire’s Black Bow was a monstrous weapon with an effective range of 150 meters.

Considering that the Ailun Cavalry Guards’ prized Stag Horn Bow had an effective range of around 120 meters, one could see how remarkable it was. On top of that, it was light, compact, easy to carry, and simpler to aim.

And yet, Seah nodded with confidence.

“Yeah. It should be. According to the calculations, the effective range will be a little longer. Even if it’s not, the accuracy and penetration will increase dramatically.”

At those words, I was a little dumbfounded.

“That’s possible? Longer range than the Black Bow, and on top of that, better accuracy and penetration?”

“Yes. Because we’re going to make a magic bow.”

For a moment, I couldn’t understand what she meant.

Huh? Make what?

A magic bow?

“Wait. Didn’t you say earlier it was a bow for soldiers to use?”

“Yes. It will be for soldiers.”

“But magic?”

It wasn’t Seah, but Asha who answered my incredulous question. That brat wore a smug expression.

“That’s exactly the greatness… of ancient… magic.”

Seeing my confusion, Seah gave a brief lecture on the difference between ancient magic and modern magic.

“So. If modern magic is like making a pen and writing with it, then ancient magic is like creating a printing press and stamping letters onto paper. It makes mass production possible.”

Modern magic was created when a magician directly manipulated and shaped mana. By contrast, ancient magic imitated the very will (soul) of nature itself, so that mana was drawn in on its own and fused together.

“Modern magic can be more powerful and precise. But it can’t mass-produce countless magic tools like ancient magic can. And once you reach higher levels, the power and precision turn into a different story altogether.”

Seah’s explanation was simple and clear.

I couldn’t fully understand the complicated theories of magic, but I did understand the conclusion.

“So… with ancient magic, we can use relatively easy-to-get materials, without even using mana stones, to mass-produce magic bows?”

“Yeah. Of course, the power won’t be as overwhelming as the magic tools we commonly know. But magic is still magic. It will dramatically increase the soldiers’ combat strength.”

Oso—

Goosebumps crawled up my arm. A grand image flashed through my mind.

Archers and cavalry archers armed with magic bows that surpassed the Empire’s Black Bow.

Arrows raining down before the enemy even drew near. A destructive power so immense it could pierce most shields and armor.

What excited me more was the realization that this was only the beginning.

It had only been three months since I taught Seah and Asha about ancient magic.

And already such a result? What would happen if they continued researching ancient magic?

‘At this rate… one day, even the Empire might be within reach.’

Our army, armed with equipment infused with ancient magic.

It might even overwhelm the mighty legions of the Empire.

And it didn’t stop there.

What if Seah’s Three-War Strategy became reality?

Novarea, the ally Seah had marked, was famous for its advanced technology. What kinds of weapons could be created if their mechanical engineering were combined with ancient magic?

And if the warriors of Avalond, land of renowned knights, wielded those weapons?

If Avalond and Novarea struck the Empire from the west while we pressed from the east?

Never before had the dream of toppling the Empire felt so tangible.

Seah let me soak in the awe for long enough before tossing out a blunt line with an expressionless face.

“Good, right?”

“Yeah. Really good.”

A faint smile flickered at the corners of Seah’s lips, then vanished quickly.

“Anyway, the new bow can move forward like that. I’ll try making a prototype first.”

“Right. I’ll be looking forward to it.”

“And the next problem… in the end, if we’re going to fight the Empire, we’re still far too small in scale.”

When Seah shifted the topic, Asha quickly lifted her head beside her.

“Huh? The bow talk’s over? Can I go rest now?”

Seah pressed down on Asha’s shoulder, who was already about to stand up.

“You’re not completely unrelated, so listen.”

“Ugh….”

I looked at the grumbling Asha, then answered Seah’s words.

“True, the difference in scale is huge. Leaving everything else aside, compared to the Empire, our population isn’t even on the same level.”

“Yeah. Population. Economy. Everything is a problem.”

Seah slammed a hefty bundle of documents onto the table in front of me—thud!

“Population is something we can’t do much about, but at the very least we need to improve the economy. We have to change the entire industrial structure of Norberju, just like you publicly declared to the lords, Oppa.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought of a lot?”

I grimaced at the towering pile of papers, and Seah pulled a single report from the stack.

“For now, it’s all still just aspirations. But among them, there’s one thing I really want to see realized.”

Tap.

Laying the report in front of me, Seah spoke.

“The textile industry. Asha, you, and I all need to work together to build this industry up no matter what.”

Why the textile industry, of all things?

The reason was clear.

The textile industry was the foundation and the flower of industry.

From barbarians living in the forests and mountains to the Empire’s urban citizens steeped in civilization, textiles were a fundamental necessity for any human being.

And yet, the curious thing was that the more this basic commodity was refined and elevated, the more it became a luxury good, generating immense added value.

In that sense, textiles were also the flower of industry.

Clothing, food, and shelter.

There was a reason why “clothing” came first among the three essentials.

Textiles were the fundamental material for making clothing, but also an essential raw material for producing sailing ships and various tools of daily life.

But Roberland was a region whose entire economy lived off transshipment and processing trade.

Taking textiles as an example, in the Western Continent (Gloryland), they bought cloth made from animal hair at relatively cheap prices, then sold it at higher prices in the Eastern Continent (Oldland). Conversely, they bought high-end textiles such as silk and Yunsil cotton at high prices in the East, only to sell them at even higher prices in the West.

Roberland’s industry, at best, only went as far as dyeing imported textiles into beautiful colors before reselling them at a markup—like the dyeing trade in Rundna.

If the trade routes of either the Western or Eastern Continent were suddenly cut off, Roberland wouldn’t even be able to clothe itself.

Forget clothes. In that case, even food supplies would immediately become a problem.

For these reasons, the first target of Seah’s industrial development plan became the textile industry.

But the problems were far from simple.

“Can that even be done in the short term? The first issue is technology, right? In the Western and Eastern Continents, there are master weavers who’ve been weaving cloth for hundreds of years, but we don’t have any.”

At my question, Seah shook her head briefly.

“That part we can solve. If we keep researching ancient magic, we’ll be able to make better tools. Even if our handiwork falls short, we’ll still be able to produce fabric that can rival the West and East.”

Seah’s gaze turned toward Asha, who sat sulking.

“Asha will handle that problem.”

“Me?”

Asha protested with a Why me? expression, but Seah neatly ignored her.

“The real problem is the material.”

“Material?”

“Yeah. We can’t raise sheep or fur-snakes on a large scale like they do in the West. And in the East, the manufacturing methods of silk and Yunsil cotton are tightly guarded state secrets. The only thing left to try is weaving cotton, but no matter how much we make, other nations won’t buy it. Their own cotton is far cheaper.”

To weave cloth, thread was essential. And we had no material to make that thread.

“So in the end, isn’t it impossible?”

When I asked, Seah looked at me steadily.

“There’s a way.”

“…Don’t tell me. You’re thinking of time travel?”

“Correct. Remember the offerings placed in the shrine we visited last time?”

“I do.”

“Among them, there was something called Silflower. The inscription said people in ancient times made clothes from it. I tried weaving cloth with it, and… it works.”

Seah laid out a prepared sample along with the Silflower.

The Silflower looked like a tuft of transparent yarn, fluttering in the breeze.

Its leaves and petals were made of fibers that seemed half-thread, half-cotton, tangled and intertwined to form its shape. It could have looked messy, yet its colors glowed softly as if infused with moonlight. Each fiber was so fine and delicate that, at a glance, it looked as cute as a fluffy baby bird huddled up.

Then there was the fabric sample.

Looking at the cloth woven from the Silflower’s threads, I couldn’t help but exclaim.

“This is amazing! Light, soft to the touch, and the color and sheen are beautiful. Even better than silk or Yunsil cotton!”

“I thought so too.”

Nodding, Seah’s eyes shone as she looked at me.

“So during the next time travel, bring back Silflower.”

Hmm… that felt a little heavy.

“Well… I’ll try.”

“‘Try’ isn’t enough. You must bring it.”

“No. Every time I travel through time, the place and circumstances are different. It’s not like I can just decide….”

“No excuses. For the future of Norberju, it’s absolutely necessary. Get it. Quickly.”

With those words, Seah gave the towering pile of documents a tap.

It was as if the papers themselves were saying:

‘I’m working myself to death here—are you really not going to do your part?’

In the end, I had no choice but to nod.

“Yes, ma’am. Understood. No matter what happens, I’ll bring it back.”

Only then did Seah let a faint smile flicker across her face, as though finally satisfied.

She never used to act this scary toward me… maybe she’d grown warped from pushing herself with too much work?

‘Argh. But how am I supposed to find the Silflower…?’

Just then, a thought struck my head—smack!

“Wait a second.”

“What?”

“Olomnima!”

The Tree of All Forms.

During this last time travel, hadn’t I seen that colossal tree said to bear every fruit and plant in existence?

“Olomnima? What’s that?”

“Maybe I can get the Silflower straight from it.”

“Huh?”

“Just wait a bit!”

Shouting that, I dashed off at once.

Toward the lakeshore of Rundna.

Ten thousand years ago, Olomnima had stood not far from Rundna.

Now it had become the vast Naelund Lake. Wasn’t it once towering at the entrance to the Sacred Ground known as the Silent Plains?

Which meant—

Olomnima had to still be there.

At the bottom of the deep, deep waters of Naelund Lake.