Chapter 40.1
Raising the Northern Grand Duchy as a Max-Level All-Master
âFantasy worlds are really something. Just a bit of fertilizer, and this happens.â
The Northern magical fertilizerâno, the sacred Maryâs Blessingâhad shown its miraculous effects in less than a week.
From the rapid growth of crops to their exceptional health, every aspect surpassed imagination.
âEspecially the potatoes. With this fertilizer, itâs possible to grow potatoes in most of the North.â
Maryâs Blessing shone brightest in addressing the Northâs most persistent issue: the cold.
Potatoes, in particular, stood out. Even in regions previously too cold to cultivate them, they now grew successfully.
The yields and growth speed werenât as high as in milder areas, but the mere possibility of cultivation where none existed before was groundbreaking.
âGet to digging over there!â
âLoad those sacks onto the carriages!â
âWomenfolk, help the witches mix the blessing over there!ân/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om
The air buzzed with the sound of lively labor.
At the High Towerâs greenhouse farm, hundreds of carefully selected residents and adventurers toiled away, shoveling fertile black soil.
The soil was transported to an adjacent processing area where it was refined into fertilizer.
Every witch in the High Tower was involved in this task, along with officials, adventurers, and even local women eager to earn a side income.
Their daily wage? A sack of Maryâs Blessing. Demand had skyrocketed, and the fertilizer had become so valuable it was nearly impossible to buy with money alone.
The bustling scene, filled with shouts and the scent of sweat, was strangely satisfying to watch.
Using âsite supervisionâ as an excuse, I often wandered around the area despite having little to do.
It reminded me of the businesses I managed back on Earth and gave me a sense of nostalgia for home.
And no one found it odd that the developer of the fertilizer spent so much time here.
âSo, the obelisk stays after all.â
As I strolled through the greenhouse farm, my eyes caught sight of a white obelisk, and I stopped in front of it.
âThis obelisk resembles the twenty-six black obelisks found elsewhere. They bore the Imperial Towerâs runes, confirming this was the Empireâs doing. Expected, but still frustrating.â
My thoughts turned to the culprits behind this recent crisis.
âA good number of Northern nobles sided with the Empire. Their justification? Discontent with the High Towerâs tight control over estate and toll taxes. Fools. Those policies are the reason this land can still sustain itself.â
The Empireâs plot to manipulate Northern nobles into rebellion had inadvertently presented the Frost Knights with a chance to prove their loyalty after Doyleâs betrayal.
Like rabid dogs, the Frost Knights had relentlessly pursued and dismantled the holdings of lords who had obelisks on their lands.
âAt this rate, industrial espionage wonât be a concern much longer.â
This also meant the North was nearing the day when it could establish factories and magical engineering academies.
The prospect was exhilarating, but it also brought to mind the original timelineâspecifically, the Great Northern Famine that wiped out a third of the Northâs population.
âCould the famine in the original timeline also have been the Empireâs doing? If thatâs true⦠theyâre beyond reprehensible.â
Though my suspicion was only a theory, I was already 70% convinced the Empire had orchestrated the famine.
In the original story, they would have occupied the High Towerâs greenhouse farm, likely using the witchesâ obelisks to unleash devastating consequencesâthe famineâs horrifying results spoke for themselves.
If the Empire wanted to weaken the rebellious and resourceful Northerners, starving them into submission would have been the perfect tactic.
âBoss, there you are!â
Lost in thought, I was startled by Maryâs voice.
I hadnât noticed her approach. She wore a bright smile, seemingly in high spirits.
âMary, feeling motivated to come to work today?â
âYes! Iâm always grateful for your consideration.â
ââ¦Right. Very grateful, Iâm sure.â
Mary had taken to our flexible work system like a fish to water, to the point that her sudden disappearances and reappearances were now treated as routine.
In truth, it felt like the boss was being manipulated by an employee.
âI have to treat my staff like royalty⦠though in her case, thatâs not far off.â
Despite being an illegitimate child, Mary carried the blue blood of the Grand Duchy and had the potential to become a future Archwitch.
âWithout you, Boss, the North might truly have collapsed.â
âWhereâs this coming from?â
âWhat do you mean? From Arad Salt to the detector, to Maryâs Blessingânone of it was âsudden.ââ
âThatâs not quite what I meant, but⦠fine, if you insist. Itâs mostly luck.â
Maryâs cheerful demeanor was infectious, and I found myself smiling as well.
âBut, Boss,â she began, tilting her head.
âYes?â
âIf we keep extracting this black soil, wonât it eventually run out?â
âOh, you donât need to worry about that,â I replied with a chuckle.
âThis black soil extends deep into the earth.â
âBut it must have limits.â
âSee those old obelisks from the greenhouse? Why do you think we left them untouched even after this crisis ended?â
I gestured toward the obelisks, explaining further.
âInstead of removing them, I modified their runes and spell arrays. Now, instead of raising the temperature, they draw fertility and magical energy exclusively from the Eternal Permafrost beyond the Great Wall.â
The greenhouse farm had been transformed.
The mana previously used to heat the area was redirected into enriching the soil, while the modified arrays summoned both vitality and mana from the permafrost.
âIf the soil ever depletes, we can just add any regular dirt. Within five years, itâll transform into the same black soil.â
In essence, the farm had become a near-permanent resource reservoir.
ââ¦!â
Understanding dawned on Mary, and her face lit up.
âThat means⦠Renslet will never have to worry about food again! No more relying on the Empire for imports!â
Her joy was palpable, as if Rensletâs bright future was a personal triumph.
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