MoP: Ch. 186

---Third POV---

Creak.

Cobb opened the doors of the town hall, exhausted in both body and mind. Gazing at the orange glow of the evening clouds on the horizon, he let out a long sigh.

"Another night already."

After watching Abel spend his days eating, drinking, and enjoying himself, Cobb had only now truly understood, after sitting in that very chair himself, just how hard it was to be a good mayor. Especially during a transition of city-state power, when everything had to be rebuilt from the ground up.

Even though Viktor had already prepared a revised set of laws for him and had done his best to reduce public resistance, it was still extremely difficult to completely eliminate the people's tendency to resort to violence in defiance of the law.

These past few days, he had been sleeping less than four hours a night. Day after day, waves of criminals were sent to the prison. It was nearly full. Even the punishment of street sweeping was already booked a week in advance.

Looking up at the sky, Cobb muttered to himself, "Maybe I should've taken that Watcher's advice this morning. Open educational courses in the prison and transfer them to sewing work."

Those who still broke the new laws under the heavy pressure of The Watchers were all big, burly men. They barely managed to sweep streets properly, let alone do the delicate work of weaving cloth.

Turning his head, he found another letter in the mailbox outside the door.

Just as his pent-up frustration was about to burst forth, it instantly deflated when he saw the insignia on it.

"A dispatch order from the Lord?"

---

The next day.

Cobb led the two sirens to the brick kiln outside the city. His face looked calm, but his back was already soaked with cold sweat.

The two behind him were strong sirens. If their power hadn't been sealed, he wouldn't even have had the chance to meet them, yet now he was expected to arrange their work?

Viktor truly thought highly of him.

Avoiding the busy crowds nearby, he pointed toward the clay bricks piled into small hills ahead.

"Your task is to transport these bricks into the city. Two piles per day. Once you're done, you can rest early."

Hannah had been craning her neck upward until it ached. Hearing this, her eyes widened.

"Two piles?"

With their magic sealed, their physical strength was no different from that of ordinary humans. The brick kiln was at least two kilometers from Nary Town. If they did it by brute force, they'd be working from dawn until nightfall.

Selina frowned.

"Did you tell that Lord that we're willing to submit?"

"Of course. Your work assignment was personally ordered by him," Cobb replied calmly.

Hannah retorted impatiently, "Then why is our work no different from before we submitted?"

"How can verbal submission put anyone at ease?" Cobb countered. "We need time to see your sincerity."

In plain terms: You're not needed yet. Do hard labor for a few months first. When powerful mages are required, you'll be transferred then.

"We can sign a contract with him!" Hannah said.

"No. Aside from slave contracts, other contracts carry too many hidden risks. We must be certain that your submission is genuine."

Cobb did not budge in the slightest.

Selina's brow furrowed tightly. "Not even transferring us back to Nary Town?"

"Not making you enter the brick kiln is already the Lord showing mercy."

Cobb picked up a mud-colored brick nearby.

"This is a special building material discovered by The Watchers. It's more stable than wooden structures, not easily set on fire, and can be used to build all kinds of designs. The price is that before they're finished, they must undergo a baptism by fire. During that process, the entire building becomes as scorching as the realm of the gods. You sirens couldn't possibly endure it. Moving bricks, or firing bricks. Pick one."

The two sirens' pupils shrank.

They turned their heads toward the massive, mound-shaped earthen structure beside them. Every human who came out of it was drenched in sweat, looking as though they had just been hauled out of water. Sirens already suffered from a lack of moisture when staying on land. If they were to remain inside for half a day... The two of them fell completely silent.

Cobb let out a sigh of relief inwardly. Not refusing outright meant their resolve was starting to waver. Seizing the opportunity, he brought the two of them to the registration area to hand them over to the players, left behind two people to supervise them, and hurriedly slipped away.

Dealing with sirens was far too stressful.

The two sirens glanced at the brick-hauling crowd not far away, then at Cobb's retreating figure.

CowardlySurvivor, growing impatient, banged heavily on the sign carved with the words "Brick-Hauling Registration."

"Hey, how long are you going to stare? If you're here to work, come get your gloves and cart."

He glanced at his game interface and muttered under his breath.

"My experience as a foreman is way too low. I'm definitely going to post a big warning on the forum later."

Since the brick kiln had been completed, supervision had actually always been handled by the locals. It was only because two sirens had arrived today, and he was afraid something might go wrong, that players had been called over to watch things for a few days. Unfortunately, the players misunderstood the purpose and rushed to take the task. They'd come happily with leather whips in hand, only to end up sulking in the sun.

Hannah reluctantly took the gloves. Her brows knitted together as she looked at the cart covered in brick dust with disgust.

"Only the undead would think of making sirens do hard labor."

Selina's expression was no better.

"Something that could be solved with a single spell... What exactly are you trying to do?"

According to rumors, the leader of The Watchers, Viktor, had long since broken through to the demigod level. Let alone hauling piles of earth, constructing an entire city out of thin air would be no challenge for someone like him.

So why deliberately set up such a pointless task?

Selina looked at the group of grimy, disheveled humans on the outskirts, people who clearly didn't look like prisoners.

"Could it be just to give a bunch of humans without even the slightest magical talent a chance to receive food?"

The Watchers couldn't possibly be that kindhearted. There had to be some earth-shaking secret behind this.

"Uh..."

CowardlySurvivor scratched his head.

"Didn't you already surrender? Why are you still trying to fish for answers?"

He glanced up at the sky.

"Whatever their reasons, you're on compulsory labor. If you don't start working now, you'll be doing overtime tonight."

With that, he tossed over the equipment meant for the two of them and stopped paying them any further attention.

Hannah was filled with confusion. "Selina, what are you trying to do?"

"To understand The Watchers' intentions."

Selina watched CowardlySurvivor behind the crude chair, completely unconcerned with maintaining a mage's image. The questions in her eyes only deepened.

"That person refused our surrender and transferred us here. There must be a purpose more important than simply moving a pile of dirt."

But the time was too short. She couldn't discern anything yet.

After lingering for a moment, the two sirens finally picked up their carts.

Not far away, a curly-haired noble captive had also seen Cobb's departing figure.

"Oliver, wasn't that the son you ran away from a few months ago?"

The others looked up as well and recognized him.

"He actually didn't die in the Great Oak Forest and even joined The Watchers?"

"I heard some civilians chatting. He's the new town mayor. Do you think he might not remember what happened when he left Nary Town...?"

Bang!

A stack of bricks was slammed heavily into a cart.

Oliver's thick beard trembled as he spoke in a muffled voice, "If you want to sleep out in the open tonight, keep talking."

The chatter in the crowd came to an abrupt halt. They looked at one another and wisely shut their mouths.

Same bad temper as ever. Looks like the family card won't work after all.

---

After three straight days of fine, drizzling rain, the weather quickly turned cold.

"Achoo!"

Alyanne covered her nose and shivered.

"Sorry, I..."

"It's fine. A player has opened a pharmacy on East Street and knows a lot about treating the flu. You can go take a look later."

Viktor silently closed the system panel and exited the game.

Ever since he had delegated his work and the first batch of natives had gradually been trained, his life had become more and more leisurely. He even had plenty of time to slack off and play games.

Ahem, of course, he was simply studying the advanced experience of other game designers.

He glanced at Alyanne's right hand, which was wrapped in bandages.

"Logically speaking, an ice dragon should be far more resistant to low temperatures than humans. Could this be an aftereffect of removing the Mana Devouring Vine?"

Thanks to the avatar of the Snow God, the ice and snow of Mount Wolcen never melted even after a thousand years, nurturing large numbers of ice-dependent magical creatures. That included ice silkworms, the main ingredient used to remove Mana Devouring Vines.

After returning from Mount Wolcen, Viktor had quickly helped Alyanne get rid of the Mana Devouring Vine.

Although it came at the cost of further injury to her right hand, making it impossible to reattach her severed limb for the time being, her body should have been in better condition than before the parasitism.

Alyanne touched the cool bandages on her arm.

"Perhaps my body had its magic drained for too long. It still needs time to recover."

Although she could now sense the magic in the air, calling upon it was extremely difficult. It was even worse than when she hadn't awakened her bloodline and was only an intermediate mage. This left her feeling deeply frustrated.

A look of understanding flashed through Viktor's eyes.

"Bloodline awakening is a process of rediscovering yourself. There's no need to rush."

A faint blush appeared on Alyanne's face.

"I'll definitely rest tonight."

It was all that bard's fault. He had promised that dragons could go a hundred years without sleep.

Viktor smiled and shook his head.

"By the way, you mentioned that recruitment in Nary Town has ended. How many did you get in total?"

"Five hundred in all," Alyanne answered honestly.

"Ever since you announced that vagrants could also enlist, hundreds of people have volunteered every day because of the high pay. Cobb filtered out most of those with physical disabilities or unqualified height and weight, and only then selected the current number. Among them, sixty-nine are suspected of having magical talent."

"Suspected" meant that they had the potential to become mages, but would require large amounts of medicine and external stimulation to activate it. If they were born into poor families, they would likely never discover their talent in their entire lives.

Viktor nodded.

"The first batch of five hundred is enough."

He planned to follow an elite-soldier approach, cultivating the first personal guard of The Watchers. If there were too many, he wouldn't be able to manage them properly.

Alyanne frowned and spoke hesitantly, "There are already quite a few mages in town. Do we really have to focus on ordinary people?"

Being unable to awaken on their own already indicated poor talent. Even with the help of medicine, if they successfully became mages, their future prospects would be obvious at a glance. There was really no need to cultivate them so carefully. Not to mention the "special forces plan" he had devised. No matter how strong an ordinary person's combat skills were, they could never defeat a knight who had mastered the use of magic.

Viktor smiled silently.

"That may seem true now, but it might not be in the future. Do you know what the common flaw of mages is?"

Alyanne thought for a moment.

"That they're physically too fragile?"

Magic provides only limited enhancement to a mage's physique. Especially for wizards who cultivate pure mental power, they can stay in a wizard tower for decades on end, and their physical condition can be even worse than that of ordinary people. Before the first spell is chanted, it's impossible to tell the difference in rank between wizards at all. That's why the most popular items on the black market are often defensive, self-protection magic tools.

"No. It's arrogance," Viktor replied.

"When they utter their first spell, most mages instantly forget their past as ordinary people and become staunch believers in magic above all else. When faced with problems, the solutions they think of often completely ignore the power of ordinary people. A knight can fight ten strong, able-bodied men. A cleaning spell can replace more than ten minutes of housework by an ordinary person... But the probability of a mage being born among ordinary people is less than one in ten thousand. Could you escape if ten thousand ordinary people surrounded you?"

Alyanne opened her mouth but couldn't bring herself to answer.

"It's not the same! Managing ten thousand ordinary people and providing them with food and drink is far harder than training a knight who can defeat an army of ten thousand. And by the time a high-level knight is born, the number of ordinary people he has to face will be even greater."

After all, the higher one goes in magical training, the difficulty increases exponentially.

"And if ordinary people had explosives in their hands that could be used without magic, what chance would he have then?"

Thinking of the power of the black powder invented by the players, Alyanne was left speechless, her expression filled with confusion.

Viktor didn't press the matter further. Instead, he turned and handed her the first-phase training plan for the army.

"These are things you can think about slowly later. For now, just do as I say."

If he were to put it bluntly, setting aside the divine system, the continent of Aeltia could only be considered a low-magic plane. If technology were just a bit more advanced, mages would merely be another kind of superpowered individual under a different name, easily restrained by modern technology and collective force.

They would never reach the level of arrogance where they claimed to be a different species from ordinary people. Let alone the current situation, playing social Darwinism amid a magical tide, talking about the survival of the fittest between mages and ordinary people.

To him, training ordinary people from scratch was far easier than correcting a group of mages who had already learned to look down on others. There was no need even to consider building wizard towers and the like.

"Besides the army, is there anything else?"

"Oh, yes!"

Alyanne snapped back to attention and pulled a planning sheet from her pocket.

"This is the revised configuration of the schools and the classification of academic departments, modified according to your previous suggestions. Because manpower has been prioritized for constructing the magic wall, and The Watchers insisted on producing something called 'cement,' construction of the school buildings has only just begun. At present, the school construction work is at a standstill."

"Cement?" Viktor asked in confusion. "Why are they so fixated on that?"

Since when did players have such high requirements for school building materials?

"I'm not sure. They said it was in case someone blows up the school?"

Alyanne bit her lip, equally puzzled.

"With you stationed here, how could the enemy possibly break in so easily and then choose a building with no real secrets as their target?"