Expanding the fortress at the Yerinetta Kingdom’s border until its walls embraced the hill leading into the Wolfsburg Mountains—such was my vision. Since no one had ever dared to construct buildings that reached into the mountain range itself, the result would be a fortress like no other in history.
With such grand plans in mind, I greeted the morning with my chest full of anticipation. A quick soak in the small but hinoki-style bath, a restful sleep under blankets made from processed beast pelts… the combination left me feeling like a daimyo reborn.
“Morning in the tenshukaku!”
Sliding open both the fusuma and the wooden outer shutters, I leapt onto the outer corridor. Yes, leapt. Apparently, I was more excited than I’d realized. The horizon glowed with the faint light of dawn, while the sky above still lingered in shadow, deepening to blue the higher you looked.
“Dawn from the tenshukaku!”
Correcting my phrasing, I planted my fists on my hips, puffed out my chest, and inhaled the crisp morning air.
“Zekkei kana—!”
I roared at the heavens, overflowing with enthusiasm. And of course, from behind me came the inevitable whispering.
“…What exactly is he doing?”
“Surely, Lord Van is verifying the safety of our surroundings.”
“Eh? Really? It just looks like he found something amusing again…”
Alte, Kamshin, and Till had all emerged in their nightclothes and were clearly talking about me. Left unchecked, this scene could easily be misinterpreted as the lord of the castle losing his mind at sunrise.
I cleared my throat and turned back with all the dignity of a man caught mid-performance.
“Ahem… As Kamshin says, I was confirming there are no enemies or beasts nearby and that we can enjoy this peaceful view. That is all. Please, refrain from odd misunderstandings.”
Alte and Till exchanged knowing smiles, while Kamshin's eyes sparkled as he exclaimed, “Ooh!” Ah, pure-hearted Kamshin. Truly, he restores my faith in humanity.
Afterward, we each returned to our assigned chambers inside the tenshukaku to dress. Once prepared, we descended to the lower floors, chatting idly about whether to have an early breakfast.
“Maybe I made the stairs too steep,” I muttered as we climbed down.
“They are a little difficult, yes,” Alte admitted.
“…As a maid, I must consider how to carry meals up these stairs,” Till added with a frown.
“Eh? But they’re fun, though?” Kamshin countered, brimming with enthusiasm.
Together, our chatter echoed through the corridors as we moved down. Knights were already bustling about, many in full dress, others changing shifts at their posts. Their readiness suggested they were always prepared to be summoned. Admirable.
Each time a knight noticed me, he snapped into a bow or salute. I nodded and returned greetings with as much friendliness as possible.
“Good morning!”
“Ah—good morning, my lord!”
Most froze like startled deer when I offered polite greetings back. …Note to self: excessive politeness from the lord might cause system errors in knights. Perhaps I should move more discreetly next time.
After much walking, we reached the stone ramparts and the outer corridor. From there, we could see the courtyard where a squad of knights was already polishing armor and weapons. Others patrolled along the walls, keeping steady watch.
Clearly, each knightly order had divided duties among themselves. A sharp contrast, really: while the nobles last night gave off a “tipsy uncles at a banquet” vibe, their knights seemed far more competent.
As I observed them, I recalled a practical matter. The newly built castle hadn’t had space for everyone to stay, so some had spent the night at the Wolfsburg Mountain fort. Within a week, once the fortress-city expanded, there would be housing for all.
But then, a thought struck me.
“Ah. Wait. When the city is complete… won’t most of them just return to their original domains?”
If so, the only ones left would be the Ceat Village knights and a handful of adventurers. And even they would eventually return home. Meaning… the glorious fortress-city could end up with zero residents. The world’s largest, most meticulously engineered ghost town.
“…Hold on. Am I the one who has to decide what happens to it?”
Muttering to myself atop the stone walls, I stared down at the half-finished ramparts and watchtowers.
“Did something trouble you, Van-sama?” Alte asked, peering into my face.
“Mm, just a little. I was thinking… once this fortress-city is finished, it’ll be massive. But no one’s going to live here.”
Alte blinked. “Ah… that is true.”
“What!? No residents?” Till exclaimed, aghast.
Kamshin's eyes widened. “But surely ten thousand knights could reside here permanently?”
Perhaps. But compared to Ceat Village, this place had… well, let’s be generous and say “logistical challenges.” No roads, no steady trade routes. Spices alone would take one to two weeks to arrive—longer if ordered from here. Realistically, a month.
“…This is a serious problem.”
My words hung in the morning air. Alte, Till, and Kamshin all nodded gravely.
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