The meeting had concluded, leaving behind a silence thick with awe and trepidation. King Shouyo Morisaki. Rimuru City. The words resonated, grand and impossible, in the aftermath of a ravaged village. My team, my newly appointed ministers, dispersed with a renewed sense of purpose, but the sheer scale of the task ahead weighed heavily on us all. We had cleared Kutsilyo of its immediate oppressors, but now, the true war began: the war against ruin, against despair, and against the vast, unseen powers that coveted this land.
"Your Majesty," Steve's voice, a blend of excitement and trepidation, cut through my thoughts. "The value of the quarry alone… this changes everything!"
"It changes nothing, yet," I interrupted, my voice firm. My mind, the Kakeru part of me, was already calculating, strategizing. This treasure was a double-edged sword. It was our ultimate strength, but also the beacon that would eventually draw the true predators. "This mana stone, these resources… they amplify the stakes. We have managed to carve out a precarious peace. My calculations suggest it could last for perhaps a year or two, if we are careful. This is our window. Our only window. We must build, fortify, and become unbreakable. We waste not a single day."
My immediate focus was on the most basic of needs, the foundation upon which everything else would rise. The village, though free of its tormentors, was still a ruin. Debris lay everywhere, homes were scorched, and the lingering scent of smoke clung to the air. Hope was present, yes, but it was a fragile thing, easily shattered by the immense task ahead.
I threw myself into the work, driven by the stark memory of Yui's death and the terrifying revelations of the noble conspiracies. My past life's business acumen, once applied to balancing ledgers and optimizing factory lines, now had a grander, more immediate canvas. I consulted constantly with my ministers, delegating, coordinating, pushing them to think beyond mere survival.
"Asuna, Feron," I commanded, standing on the uneven ground where the mighty Theodosian Walls would one day stand. "Your primary focus for the next few months is clearing. Every piece of debris, every burnt timber, every fallen stone. We need to reclaim the ground. Then, we begin the foundations of the outer wall. It will be a slow, arduous task. Every available hand, every quarry resource, goes into making this city an impregnable fortress. Nothing less than perfection."
Asuna, now more comfortable in his role as Minister of Defense, barked orders to the villagers, organizing them into work teams. Feron, ever the pragmatist, saw the military necessity, and his 'City Guard' (formerly Silver Foxes) worked tirelessly alongside the former villagers, a strange but effective alliance, their pickaxes and shovels replacing their swords for now.
Miles, my Prime Minister, became my right hand, coordinating all the internal efforts. He worked with Elara, the Minister of Health, to establish basic sanitation, temporary shelters from salvaged materials, and a rudimentary clinic for the many injured and sick. His natural empathy and quiet organizational skills were invaluable in restoring order and, more importantly, morale among the weary populace.
One afternoon, while overseeing the clearing of debris near the old market, Rai approached me, leading two men. They were bruised, a bit disheveled, but their hands, calloused and strong, and their eyes, holding a spark of intelligence, immediately caught my attention.
"Your Majesty," Rai said, bowing respectfully. "We found these two hiding in the rubble. They seem to have avoided the worst of the fighting between Grimo and Valerius. They claim to be blacksmiths, caught trying to move their forge equipment before the battle. Their names are Johnson and Johny."
I looked at the older one, Johnson. His face was etched with years of working over a forge, and his eyes, though tired, held a deep, quiet knowledge. He was clearly a master blacksmith, capable of not just forging weapons and armor, but also hinting at more complex mechanical devices. He exuded a deep understanding of metallurgy and a surprising creativity.
The younger man, Johny, barely out of his teens, was Johnson's younger brother and apprentice. He seemed quieter, more observant, with an eagerness to learn and an almost photographic memory for schematics. He carried a small, worn notebook tucked into his belt.
"Blacksmiths, you say?" I mused, my mind already racing through the implications. "And you managed to survive the chaos?"
Johnson nodded. "We know how to stay low, Your Majesty. We had hoped to make it to Delgado, but… well, the road was closed. We've been hiding until the fighting stopped."
"Do you possess skills beyond basic forging?" I pressed, my gaze intense. I needed more than just swords. I needed innovation, true engineering.
Johnson hesitated, then seemed to sense my intent, a flicker of guarded hope in his eyes. "I… I have a knack for building things, Your Majesty. Things that move, that lift, that grind. Things that make work easier. My brother, Johny, he's even better at seeing how to improve them. He's the one who sketches all the contraptions." He gestured to Johny's notebook.
This was it. A crucial piece of my puzzle. My past life's dream of efficient, automated systems found a new avenue. "Johnson, Johny. I need you. I am building a city, a nation, not just a village. And we will need innovation. We will need new machines, new tools, ways to make life easier, to extract our resources more efficiently, to defend ourselves more effectively. I appoint you both as Chief Engineers of Rimuru City, responsible for all technological innovation and construction. Your forge will be at the heart of our prosperity."
Their eyes widened, a mixture of disbelief and profound gratitude. This was an opportunity beyond anything they could have imagined. "We… we accept, Your Majesty! We will serve Rimuru City!" Johnson declared, a renewed spark in his tired eyes. Johny, more reserved, simply nodded vigorously, a small, excited smile on his face, already flipping open his notebook.
With the engineers in place, the meticulous work of rebuilding truly began.
General City Rebuilding & Infrastructure: The initial months were consumed by the basic, grueling work of clearing the rubble and establishing stable living conditions. Johnson and Johny's first tasks were simple but vital: designing improved shovels and wheelbarrows to speed up debris removal, crafting stronger axes for timber felling, and repairing the village's ruined hand pumps to access cleaner water. They also designed and supervised the construction of temporary communal shelters, using salvaged materials, to house the displaced families. This early, practical innovation immediately improved the villagers' daily lives, earning Shouyo and his engineers their trust.
Fishing Industry: Miles worked closely with the lake villagers. Their first goal was simply to repair enough of the damaged fishing boats to ensure a steady, daily supply of food. Johnson and Johny, however, immediately began designing basic improvements for the nets and fishing poles, making them more durable and efficient, allowing the villagers to bring in slightly larger catches with less effort. It was a slow, steady increase in productivity, not a boom, but enough to bring a sense of stability.
Agriculture: Asuna and Feron, surprisingly effective collaborators, began clearing new fields from the scorched earth. My past life's knowledge of efficient farming techniques was invaluable. I instructed them on basic crop rotation to ensure soil fertility and organized teams to meticulously clear the land of rocks and weeds. Johnson and Johny, working from my rough sketches, began to design prototypes for rudimentary, animal-drawn plows that could break up the tough earth more effectively than manual tools. This was painstaking work, but it was vital to ensure a reliable food source for the growing population.
The main focus, of course, remained the walls. The sheer scale of the Theodosian Walls meant it would be years before they were complete. For now, Asuna and Feron concentrated on digging the initial trench for the outer wall, marking out the vast perimeter, and constructing simple, sturdy timber palisades as a temporary defense. Every villager capable of physical labor contributed, quarrying the local stone and felling trees, driven by the vision of an impenetrable fortress.
Meanwhile, Steve and Marlow, my Ministers of Commerce, wasted no time. While Steve skillfully managed the King's Customs Agents, subtly bribing them with just enough coin and misinformation to keep them satisfied that Kutsilyo was still a dangerous but predictable den of bandits, Marlow was already discreetly contacting House Bellwether, laying the groundwork for a future, legitimate trade agreement. It was a careful, calculated dance of appeasement and deception. The King's agents remained in the vicinity, observing, but their reports back to Delgado were still dismissive: Kutsilyo was chaotic, a constant nuisance, but not yet a threat, or a prize worth the Crown's full intervention.
The first year passed. Rimuru City was slowly, painstakingly, taking shape. The initial despair had been replaced by a quiet, determined hope. Basic infrastructure was in place. Food was more plentiful. The foundations of the mighty walls were being laid. But the future remained uncertain. The King's Customs Agents still watched. The noble houses, the ones whose letters I held, whose schemes I knew of, were still out there, silent, patient, like spiders in a vast, unseen web. And though we had found small veins of mana stone during quarrying, the true, massive deposit remained a hidden secret, a treasure that would surely draw them all to our doorstep. The precious peace we had bought was fragile, a thin veil over a simmering conflict, and I knew, with chilling certainty, that it wouldn't last forever.