---Viktor's POV---
"There's no need to say it," I awkwardly interrupted his humblebrag.
Lack of manpower had always been an ongoing issue in Honeyvale Town. Recently, players' reliance on quest points had been diminishing as they spontaneously established their own hiring systems. The number of independent professionals, well, NPCs, was also steadily growing.
Soon, I planned to increase the frequency of onboarding new players. However, it would still take time for everything to fall into place… I jotted down the issues related to mineral resources in my notes.
"Aside from that, are there any other concerns?"
"Yes!" GameLord420 declared. "There's no proper cheese or decent beer in the game! This is completely unreasonable! It's severely impacting our business too!"
"Um… what?" I was stunned. How did the topic shift so fast?
Unexpectedly, MemeKnight chimed in with a sudden epiphany.
"Exactly! This is the most crucial issue! Forget about minerals. What we really lack now are proper seasonings! Especially good salt and herbs!"
"And proper bread yeast, too!" GameLord420 added.
"Yes! And real hops for brewing. The current bitter plants can't even make proper ale. It's such a shame!"
"And don't forget olive oil and wine vinegar!"
The two of them bounced ideas back and forth. The list of requested seasonings turned out to be more specific than the minerals they'd previously discussed. Fearing they might escalate to demanding truffle or caviar, I clutched my notes and quickly left, using a random excuse.
Finally, it was time to visit the quest hub.
With four townsfolk assisting, Alyanne's workload had lightened considerably. From afar, she noticed me approaching and immediately delegated her tasks to others, stepping outside to greet me.
"Lord Viktor!"
As she approached, her radiant smile slightly dimmed, and her tone became hesitant. "You seem…"
"It's nothing," I sighed. I'd merely realized how much potential for improvement still existed within the territory.
The players had endless ideas, some wanted to farm, others to raise livestock. And some even wanted to breed magical creatures? There was still a long way to go…
I handed Alyanne the compiled list of players' more realistic demands.
"In a few days, most of these items will be added to the shop. I'll need your help coordinating their placement and updates."
Alyanne accepted the list and began skimming through it. Her crimson lips parted slightly.
"This many?"
She looked up sharply, her gaze resolute. "Did you discover another goblin ruin nearby?"
"Not exactly," I replied gently. "We're expecting guests."
With the players' scale and activity range expanding and my injuries healing significantly, it was time to reconnect with other Watchers. Preparing a welcome gift was only natural.
Looking at the bustling players in the warehouse, I added, "Oh, by the way, if you see Hawkes later, tell him to create a smaller magical device while working on the greenhouse. Something with more precise temperature and water control."
Our primary crop, wild potatoes, was still a far cry from domesticated varieties. The main staple seeds NeverShowOff brought back from Nary Town, while similar to wheat, had a distinct greenish hue.
Some players couldn't tolerate eating green bread or soup with green lumps. So they proposed breeding and selecting superior strains to recreate the authentic taste of Earth's food.
I thought this was feasible and aligned well with Hawkes' ongoing magical device project. Adding a specialized room for seed genetic improvement shouldn't be an issue.
Since I'd forgotten to tell him earlier, I entrusted Alyanne to pass on the message.
"Understood!" Alyanne agreed without hesitation.
She carefully folded the list and, glancing at the steadily increasing visitors to the quest hub, asked,
"Is there anything else?"
"Yes… Have you considered changing jobs?"
"Huh?" Alyanne froze momentarily, her long lashes trembling slightly.
"Have I not been doing well recently?"
Noticing the low-pressure aura enveloping her, I quickly intervened.
"No, no. Don't get the wrong idea."
"I just feel that task coordination is something many people can do, so it doesn't have to be you. No, wait…" Realizing I was digging myself a hole, I covered my face. Maybe being dead for so long had eroded my communication skills. "What I mean is, there's a more important job that I don't want to see mishandled. So, I hope you can take it on."
Alyanne blinked in surprise. "Really?"
I nodded firmly. "Of course. Do you remember when I mentioned wanting you to be the players' mentor?"
"But my Mana Devouring Vine…"
"Just focus on teaching them theoretical basics. Besides, your condition and the other townsfolk's damaged magical talents aren't unfixable."
I then outlined my plan in detail. Relying solely on skill rewards from leveling up was too restrictive for players' growth. Although a mage's level depended on their mana manipulation and control, in the Magicians Guild, it was common knowledge that novice mages needed to master ten beginner spells, intermediate mages ten intermediate spells, and so on.
Lowering these standards for players would set them up to fail in battles against overwhelming odds. That would reflect poorly on me…
Now that the town's population included more mages, it was time to establish something like a school. This would not only give players a place to learn new skills but also lay the foundation for educating future generations.
"A school? To teach all kinds of magical knowledge?" Alyanne was visibly moved, gazing at me with a complex expression.
"You truly are a generous lord."
In Aeltia, almost all magical education resources were controlled by the church and were not accessible to outsiders. Only those who climbed to the appropriate rank were qualified to learn.
Outside the church, the kingdom's court and the reclusive mages in the wizard towers also have their own strict requirements. Without exception, they hoard their knowledge, refusing to share it with the outside world.
I could already sense that Alyanne could envision this lofty, unrealistic plan collapsing rapidly before her eyes. Thankfully, after spending a month with the players, the clumsy ice dragon had learned to hide her thoughts, refraining from pouring cold water directly on my plans.
I remained silent for a while before speaking slowly: "Don't force yourself to say things against your true feelings. Your expression has already betrayed you."
Alyanne was startled, covering her face with both hands, her voice muffled. "R-Really?"
Yes.
Her words sounded generous, but her gaze, which screamed "idiot," made it clear she thought otherwise.
I sighed inwardly.
"So, would you like to take this job? To teach others the magical knowledge you've learned or inherited from the dragons?"
She hesitated for a long time but eventually nodded.
"Alright."
I suspected she wasn't sure what she was thinking during that time. Similarly, she probably didn't fully understand why she nodded, agreeing to such an absurd idea that blatantly challenged the established order of Aeltia.
We walked side by side toward the mission point, our pace unhurried.
"But, can humans really learn Draconic magic?"
"Of course. Unfortunately, using Dragonflame as an undead would be self-destructive. You'll have to wait until I regain my human form to see a demonstration."
"Ah? Undead can really turn back into humans?"
"Correction: they can restore their humanity."
"..."
---Third POV---
Today in Honeyvale Town, life was as busy and ordinary as usual.
A week passed quickly.
To accelerate the construction of the greenhouse, Viktor personally handled the smelting of the ore. Three days ago, Hawkes finally completed the magical greenhouse device that met the specifications.
The agricultural strategy of planting first and then building, a race to catch the last remnants of summer, was finally in its final stage.
The former mage, now an ordinary citizen of Honeyvale Town, had just put down his pickaxe. Due to the labor shortage, he was promptly assigned to fertilize and remove pests in the greenhouse or help build the new structure on a massive plot of land near the town's bustling "Beginner's Avenue."
This building, called a "school," had an unknown purpose for now.
The morning sunlight slanted through the eastern streets and the Lord's Residence, spilling into the mission point's door.
The mission point, which had been expanded once, appeared bright and spacious, able to accommodate nearly 50 players simultaneously.
The counters were divided into six, each assigned to a specific task, with a "mission specialist" at each one. The scene was orderly. Behind one counter, Cobb sat frowning as he calculated something with an abacus. The feather quill made soft scratching noises on the papyrus, like faint whispers.
"Hey, good morning, Cobb!" A cheerful and hearty voice rang out suddenly from the counter.
Cobb looked up, following the voice.
In front of him stood a dark-skinned man, leaning on the wooden counter with both hands, flashing a wide grin.
Cobb's furrowed brow eased unconsciously, and he returned the smile. "Good day, Bard."
The man came from a desert nation and was one of the few dark-skinned individuals in the town, and also one of his rare friends.
"But you must've been in the mines for too long. It's not morning anymore."
Time had crept forward. By now, summer was on its last legs, and the morning sunlight wasn't as bright as it had been two weeks ago.
Bard turned to glance out the right-side window at the sky, then smacked his forehead in frustration. "My bad! So, it's midday now, according to The Watcher's schedule?"
"No wonder you, a mission specialist, seem so relaxed."
"Hahaha, I wish!" Bard chuckled.
Cobb raised the thick ledger of papyrus pages he was holding. "We have to sort out all the resources gathered this morning while everyone's having lunch."
Honeyvale Town, though still rebuilding, wasn't short on every type of material. Adjusting mission rewards had also become the responsibility of Cobb and his fellow mission specialists. Beyond that, the players constantly brought back all sorts of bizarre plants and minerals, which he and the others had to evaluate and buy back.
Even someone as knowledgeable as Cobb found himself overwhelmed by the abundance of resources from the Great Oak Forest.
Despite being official "NPCs" with access to view and edit creature logs, they spent most of their days deciphering these discoveries.
He let out a bitter chuckle. "I never imagined the so-called forbidden magical forest would have such rich biodiversity. There's something new every day."
Bard laughed gleefully, his curly, bushy hair shaking with the motion. "If there weren't treasures in there, do you think we'd have traveled all this way?"
He paused, then gave Cobb a curious look. "Don't tell me you came here for the forbidden zone itself?"
"Let's talk about that another time." Cobb quickly changed the subject. He glanced at Bard's new clothes. "What made you decide to get new clothes?"
Bard worked as an iron miner, a labor-intensive job. Though the pay was better than Cobb's desk work, it was physically demanding. Four days ago, he had said he wouldn't bother with new clothes since they wouldn't last long. Now, he seemed to have changed his mind.
A thought struck Cobb. "You're not planning to quit, are you?"
"Smart guess!" Bard grinned. "The new Watchers are way more capable than me. I can't compete with them, so I figured I'd switch jobs. Today, I came to tell you, let's hang out more often from now on!"
Cobb raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Does that mean you're giving up on buying a house?"
Mining, though messy and tough, was a job Bard had sought out on his own initiative.