Chapter 29 : Chapter 29
Chapter 29: One month later.
The edge of the Wailing Wastes now bore a name that no longer fit.
Once, only two sounds existed here. The wail of the wind, and the roar of wild beasts.
But now, when the first pale hint of dawn had barely pushed through the gray misty veil at the horizon's edge, an entirely new symphony was already eager to begin its performance.
“CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!”
That was hundreds of iron hammers shattering rock, splashing sparks across the sky in crisp ringing tones.
“CRACK—THUD!”
That was logging axes biting deep into tree trunks, giant trees crashing thunderously to the ground in dull booms.
Accompanied by the groaning creak of wheelbarrows buckling under unbearable loads, and the low yet vitality-filled hum formed by thousands of people gathering together like a swarm of bees beating their wings.
All of this mixed together actually became the most beautiful music on this land.
Anna stood on a makeshift wooden watchtower temporarily erected outside the lord's tent, looking down at this wildly growing construction site at her feet.
She wore a coarse linen dress washed until it had faded white, her once molten-gold brilliant hair bound behind her head with a plain cloth strip.
That exquisite face that should have appeared at court banquets now held only a near-numb calm.
Using that well that Caesar had named the Wall of Despair as the center point, the embryonic form of a city was forcibly “squeezing” itself out from barren soil at an incomprehensible speed.
In the neatly divided residential area, low but sturdy shacks were densely arranged like honeycomb cells, with hundreds of cooking fires rising in curling smoke, converging into a gray cloud.
Within the craftsman district, newly built brick kilns and smithies had become the heart of the entire camp, billowing thick smoke their breath, the day-and-night ceaseless hammering sounds their strong heartbeat.
Further away, that outer wall foundation named the Boundary of Hope lay like a giant python prostrate on the earth, encircling an outline so large it made hearts flutter with anxiety.
Thousands of ragged subjects whose eyes were no longer murky worked like the most industrious ants, unreservedly pouring out their sweat to exchange for the next meal of thick potato soup where they could see bits of meat.
Driving all of this was that word Caesar had brought—cruel yet incomparably fair—“work points.”
Anna's gaze passed over the surging mass of heads, casting toward that barracks named the Black Dragon Guard.
Roland was using his demon-like voice to drill three hundred carefully selected soldiers until they were half-dead.
Their physiques were visibly growing stronger, their gazes also transforming from initial numb distraction to fierce yet disciplined.
The soldiers' thoughts were also being uniformly instilled, ensuring loyalty!
And the youth who had created all of this, Caesar, was currently standing at the outer wall construction site, together with that man called Barrett the One-Eyed Dragon, casually breaking open a newly fired adobe brick to inspect its quality.
He wore the most ordinary linen cloth garment, his face speckled with mud, looking just like a completely unremarkable foreman.
But Anna knew that beneath that excessively young skin hid what kind of calm yet terrifying monster.
Every single person on this land was a chess piece on his board.
And she, Anna, was the tool responsible for calculating the value of all chess pieces and recording them.
She lowered her head, opening the work point ledger in her hands that recorded the fates of thousands, using a charcoal pencil to record a new expenditure—Black Dragon Guard barracks reinforcement, consumed thirty cubic meters of lumber, calculated as fifteen hundred work points.
Her handwriting had transformed from its initial trembling to steady and clear.
She was adapting to her new identity.
Also adapting to this new world constructed from iron fists, blueprints, and human hearts.
Just then, slight sounds came from the wooden ladder behind her.
Anna's body stiffened. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
In this camp, only one person walked with footsteps as light as a cat's, yet carrying dragon-like oppressive force.
“The accounts, are you getting used to them?”
Caesar's voice came from behind, so flat it revealed no emotion whatsoever.
Anna hurriedly turned around, bowing slightly with lowered head.
“Replying to my lord, everything… is going smoothly.”
Caesar didn't look at her, his gaze likewise cast toward that bustling construction site.
He held a small piece of dried meat just taken from the cookhouse, tearing and eating it methodically.
In this camp where food remained tight even with the existence of Hundredfold Amplification, this was a luxury item only he and Roland and a few other core personnel could enjoy.
“Raise your head.”
He suddenly said.
Anna's body trembled imperceptibly, obediently raising her head, but her sight still fell to the ground.
“When I tell you to raise your head, I mean for you to look at me while speaking.”
Caesar's tone remained flat, but Anna heard within it a thread of non-negotiability.
She took a deep breath, finally mustering the courage to raise those sky-pure transparent blue eyes, looking toward the youth before her.
Caesar was also looking at her.
A month's time had seen her injuries basically healed, her pallid cheeks also recovering a trace of color.
Though wearing coarse hemp cloth, she still couldn't conceal that innate nobility and beauty.
“Very good.”
Caesar nodded, as if evaluating the quality of an item.
He held out the remaining half block of dried meat in his hand.
Anna froze.
“Take it.”
Caesar's tone carried not the slightest warmth, more like a command.
“You are a smart person. Smart people need better maintenance.”
“Eat it, then calculate the accounts more clearly.”
Investment and return—this was the only law he believed in.
Anna's lips moved, but in the end she still extended a slightly trembling hand, accepting that piece of dried meat still carrying his body warmth.
The dried meat was very hard, very chewy, carrying rich salty fragrance.
But eating it, Anna couldn't taste any flavor.
She only mechanically chewed, her eye sockets growing somewhat hot beyond her control.
She didn't know whether this was charity, domestication, or a kind of… recognition?
Caesar paid her no further attention, turning to descend the watchtower.
He still had more important matters to handle.
He walked to Barrett's side, patting this One-Eyed Dragon's shoulder.
“The matter of recruiting the next batch of refugees, how is it coming along?”
Barrett immediately revealed a face full of fawning smiles, exactly like a hyena seeing its master.
“My lord, rest assured! When I handle things, they're absolutely reliable!”
“Those rotten people in Grayrock Town with no way to make a living—when they heard our place provides full meals and even distributes meat, their eyes turned green!”
“Within these two days another five hundred should arrive!”
“Very good.”
Caesar nodded.
“When the people arrive, same old rules. Roland picks soldiers first, the rest all get thrown into land reclamation and wall repair.”
“Tell them if they want to eat their fill, work themselves to death for me!”
“Got it!”
Just as Caesar's miracle city was madly absorbing all usable resources from the surrounding area, legends about it also finally flew like dandelion seeds caught by wind toward destinations hundreds of miles away.
……
Grayrock Town, the largest tavern in town.
A traveling merchant who had just escaped with his life from deep within the Wailing Wastes was surrounded in the middle by a group of mercenaries watching the excitement.
The hand holding his cup of inferior wheat ale shook as if he had Parkinson's.
“I swear… every single word I'm saying is true!”
His voice was shrill, carrying the terror of one who had survived against the odds.
“Right on the other side of the Blackspine Mountains, in that ghost place even earth dragons are unwilling to approach, I saw a… a city rising from the ground!”
The tavern first fell silent, then immediately erupted in earth-shaking roars of laughter.
“Hahahaha! Old Howell, has your fucking brain short-circuited?”
“A city? With those exiled wastes?”
“Exactly! That place has nothing but rocks and sand. What would they eat? Shit?”
“I'm not crazy!”
Old Howell abruptly stood up, spilling ale all over himself.
“The walls there are even higher than Grayrock Town's!”
“I saw it with my own eyes! Countless people, like ants!”
“They have smithies, brick kilns, and even… even an army wearing unified black armor!”
“An army?”
A mercenary captain's smile faded. He stroked his chin stubble, his gaze growing grave.
“You're certain?”
“Absolutely certain!”
Old Howell shouted excitedly.
“Their leader… their leader is called Caesar Valerius!”
The name Caesar Valerius was like a basin of cold water, instantly extinguishing the tavern's clamor.
Most people in town still remembered from over a month ago that man who had led a group of sick, weak, and elderly like a funeral procession into the wastes.
Everyone had thought he and his several hundred people had long since become beast dung.
“Not only did he not die… he fucking built a city?”
The mercenary captain muttered to himself. The wine cup in his hand cracked with a “snap” as he crushed it.
This news seemed to grow wings, rapidly flying out of the tavern, flying through every street and alley of Grayrock Town.
Finally, it was sent by a Valerius family scout disguised as a fur merchant using the most expensive encrypted magic scroll at a speed as if his ass were on fire back to Valerius Fortress in the Anjou Territory.
A name that everyone had assumed had already rotted in the mud would return to the card table in the most inconceivable manner.