Chapter Fifteen: Redevelopment

After a thorough search in the laboratory, Eric was not too disappointed; he managed to find some valuable items. To be precise, it was Alena who discovered them.

She had inadvertently noticed what seemed to be a secret compartment in the rock wall. Unable to open it by hand, she called Eric over to force it open.

Crack!

Using the sword hilt, they broke through the wooden panel, and after some prying, a modest hidden compartment was revealed.

“Looks like some coins,” Alena glanced over with diminished interest.

Eric stirred the coins with his sword to confirm there were no traps before reaching in and pulling out a handful. With the torchlight illuminating the contents, they saw not just silver and copper coins, but also several rings smeared with black crusts that appeared to be dried blood.

“This must be the necromancer’s personal treasury,” Eric said as he pulled out more coins, still not finished. Among the pile were some gold coins gleaming faintly.

Alena eyed the mix of rings, necklaces, and other jewelry, stained with blood. “These were probably looted from the undead.”

Eric agreed but was curious about the necromancer’s purpose in hoarding precious metals. “Did he think he could escape from here?”

The abbess shook her head, clearly puzzled.

Eric emptied the crude compartment completely and then reached in with the torch to the depths, finding something stuck.

After some effort, he extracted an emblem.

Alena looked over. “What is that...?”

The emblem was about the size of Eric’s palm, seemingly made of metal but surprisingly light, almost weightless.

The age had worn some of the design away, but what remained resembled a palace. Eric studied it, turning it in his hand until it suddenly clicked: “The Starfield Academy?”

Alena glanced at him and then at the emblem. She only had a superficial understanding of that magical institution.

“Do you recognize this emblem, Mr. Eric?”

The more Eric thought, the more certain he became. He nodded. “Although the Starfield Academy is located in the chaotic lands, it still upholds some basic rules, like only those wearing the academy’s emblem can enter or exit.”

Though this emblem differed somewhat from the one he'd earned in the game after completing numerous quests, it was over two centuries old—some variation was expected.

“That necromancer was probably once a student at the Starfield Academy. Maybe even the original instigator.”

Eric examined the emblem under the light a little longer before pocketing it.

Alena neither agreed nor objected but went back to check for other secret compartments in the rock.

The emblem was essentially a pass for the continent’s largest magic academy, granting access to classes. Eric had no use for it himself, but perhaps Irene might find it valuable someday. He intended to keep it for her.

As for the remaining coins, though no one disliked money, Eric showed little interest, casually sifting through them and barely bothering to count. He called Leslie over and told him to distribute the coins among the other guards—the abbess had already declined.

The captain of the guards, however, stared wide-eyed at the pile of coins on the ground.

The young master didn’t care because he was the future heir of the lord’s mansion, but the captain certainly did.

He loved shiny little things made of gold, silver, and copper.

Especially such a large amount.

“Divide them as you see fit,” Eric said. “No need to save any for me or my uncle.”

By custom, whatever spoils they gained on this expedition belonged mostly to the lord’s mansion, but Eric had the authority to decide on such minor matters.

“Understood!”

Leslie collected the coins, not intending to keep them all but knowing it was not yet time to distribute.

After a final check to ensure nothing was missed, Eric set fire to all burnable materials in the laboratory to eliminate any future hazards.

“Retreat.”

The group withdrew from the mine tunnel. Compared to the cautious vigilance on the way in, the return was much easier and quicker. Soon they reached the entrance to the underground mine.

“It’s already this late...”

Eric squinted, gazing at the sky outside, which seemed covered by a layer of pale, egg-like haze.

Time was imperceptible in the dark mine, but upon emerging, he saw the sun had moved to the opposite side of the sky—around two or three in the afternoon.

Though it was still early, the day’s experience in the mine had not gone as expected. Both Eric and Leslie felt it safer to withdraw for now.

The bodies of two unfortunate villagers still lay sprawled at the mine’s entrance. Even with a squad of the lord’s guards having descended into the mine, ordinary villagers dared not enter the site, let alone retrieve the bodies.

“What do we do with these two bodies?”

“Forgot? Didn’t the young master say to carry them out when we came?”

“Carry them where?”

“Don’t bother yourself. Just put them anywhere visible outside; someone will come to collect them.”

Several guards helped carry the bodies out of the mine, placing them in a relatively conspicuous spot rather than simply discarding them.

Villagers who saw this ran back to their settlement below. Soon, seven or eight people arrived, led by a middle-aged couple who wept bitterly over the bodies before finally carrying them away.

Eric had already returned to camp and watched from a distance as the group moved down the slope, sighing softly.

“Master.”

Leslie, who had stayed behind, also returned to camp. “I asked around. Quite a few villagers have temporarily fled to other places for safety.”

“No wonder there are so few people around.”

“However, some have been trickling back during the day, probably having heard news. Those few over there looking around are among them.”

Eric glanced over. Not far off, several villagers stood, their gazes shifting between the mine and the camp, occasionally whispering to one another.

“Send someone to reassure them, tell them not to leave. Promise we will eliminate all the undead in the mine.”

As Eric spoke, he suddenly clicked his tongue.

“What’s wrong, master?” Leslie asked quickly.

“If only we had left a few undead alive to capture and hang. Words alone don’t work as well as directly showing force.”

The captain thought the young master’s idea was bold but undeniably effective.

Eric felt a bit frustrated but was too lazy to go back into the mine to catch any more corpses. “Let’s just bluff for now.”

“Understood!”

“Wait, don’t leave yet.”

Eric called Leslie back as he was about to leave. “Valley Town grew prosperous because of this mine. Though it’s been abandoned for over two centuries, the town remains. Ask the villagers how many would be willing to return if the mine reopened.”

Leslie hesitated for a moment before turning back. “You mean...”

“Yes, I intend to reopen the mine.”

Eric looked toward the decayed fence outside the mine. “The mine wasn’t closed because the veins ran dry. I estimate it can still be mined for several decades. Leaving it idle is such a waste.”

“Hmm...”

Leslie looked hesitant, scratching at his chest plate, seemingly unsure of what to say.

“If the mine reopens, the town’s population might not be enough... Maybe we should ask the count’s opinion.”

Eric gave him a glance, fully aware of his true meaning: this matter involved many parties; the young master could not decide alone.

“That’s my plan too,” Eric said without haste. “I’ll write a letter to my uncle. Send someone back to the city and return only after getting his reply.”

“Yes, master.”

“First, go soothe the villagers.”

Leslie turned away, and Eric climbed to a higher vantage point, squinting against the afternoon sun as he surveyed the mine and the town below.

Reopening the mine was not some whim of a second-generation heir.

In the previous life, when the game officially launched, this mine had long been active—dug up vigorously and extensively.

The reason was simple: with the northern wars erupting, countless resources were poured in, especially the iron ore needed for weapons and armor.

Returning to the present, the demon tribes would inevitably march south within a few years. War was unavoidable. Whether to prepare for the invasion or for the family’s benefit, Eric intended to profit from the impending conflict.

“As for manpower, a group of refugees recently arrived in the forest north of Auric City. We can bring them over as miners. Having work is better than wandering or bothering the elves...”

Eric schemed on the mountain, mentally drafting the letter to his uncle.

“I wonder what the current price for pig iron is. Might as well stockpile some... Hmm... We’ll also need to prepare food.”

Though these things were all war materials, suddenly stockpiling them without warning might look like rebellion.

But even if there was a revolt, the empire probably wouldn’t react strongly—or could do little about it.

The Delan Empire, with over five centuries of history, was now in turmoil, its people suffering greatly. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many refugees around Dante County.

Following the sudden passing of the former emperor and the young accession of Chik Utu, the royal family’s power and prestige had plummeted, effectively losing control over most of the empire’s territory.

“Whatever, let’s take it step by step. First, get a hold of this mine.”

Back at the camp, Eric grabbed paper and pen and quickly wrote a letter before sending a guard to deliver it to the city.

“Remember, only return after you receive the count’s reply.”

“Understood, master.”

Watching the guard ride away, Eric had a moment of leisure and wandered around casually. He soon noticed Leslie and several guards on horseback surrounding some villagers in the town below.

They seemed to be in a dispute.

“What’s happening?”

Eric observed from afar but couldn’t hear the commotion, so he moved closer.

“Master said—”

Leslie blocked a villager trying to break through the circle, glaring fiercely as he drew his sword.

“Today, not one of you who fled and then returned is allowed to leave! And every able-bodied person in the village, not a single one will get away!”

Eric stumbled as he approached, almost falling.

Was this supposed to be reassurance or intimidation?

“‘Not a single one will get away’—is this an invitation or a warning?”

And “Master said”—he damn well didn’t.

The contradiction left Eric both baffled and amused.