< Previous | Next >
"My lord," Cedric entered Theodore's study, and bowed slightly. "The southern pipe burst again."
Theodore frowned. "The southern pipe?"
"Indeed." Cedric sighed. "I believe this is the third time this month, is it not?"
"Third time in two weeks, to be exact," Theodore said, rubbing his temples. "What's the issue? Do we have a report?"
"We do." Cedric nodded, proffering a sheet of paper. Theodore began reading over it with a small frown.
Ever since he returned from the capital, he'd been busier than ever. With no Freya to pull him out for spars he'd been holed up dealing with the consequences of everything that had happened in Holden while he was in the capital.
It was suffice to say he hadn't been complacent while he was away. In fact, in the months he spent in the capital, much of his work had been dealing with the increasing problems due to, well, his actions.
"I think we should just increase the size of the pipe," Theodore muttered, handing the paper back to Cedric. "And add more. If we continue to use that small a pipe to channel the water, it will continue to break."
Cedric took the paper, and nodded. "I'll inform them of your orders, my lord."
"Do that." Theodore leaned back in his chair, stretching out of habit and stood up. He needed to relax.
But things were happening too fast. It all started with the bathhouse. This facility was already operational when he left, and became a massive success in his absence, attracting nobles from other cities and causing a booming marketplace to sprout around it.
He left behind ongoing experiments to cure patches of twisted, corrupted soil outside the town using condensed life mana. He eventually finalized a medicinal solution for the farmers. And so there had been a sudden agricultural boom as well.
Thankfully, he had already established kilns and a working brick production system before his departure, so there was at least some work for the new arrivals, but it hadn't been enough. The town—well, city-wide sewage system didn't help either.
City-wide sewage system, storm drains and fresh water pipes, and street paving along other things was quickly making Holden a very enticing place to live. It worked—in fact, it worked too well. Improved sanitation and preventing diseases didn't help the population growth spike with people moving in.
All that combined meant a strain on food and housing. Thankfully the agricultural boom helped a little with the food situation, but that hadn't solved the housing issue. It'd all added more work on his plate, so he'd accelerated brick production, and had established more kilns and put them to use in housing.
It was a lot of manpower and money.
Thankfully, he didn't lack either. With people moving in and hungry for work, manpower was an issue of the past, and his soap, refrigerators, and now health and stamina potions were bringing in good money. With contracts already in place for more sewage, bathhouses, and other work in nearby cities and even farther, in the capital and more, a steady stream of money was coming into the town's coffers.
He was genuinely happy to create a better life for his people. It grounded him, balancing out his darker, more ruthless tendencies—the very tendencies he currently allowed his clones to exercise in the shadows.
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in."
"My Lord," a guard walked in, and he looked a little flustered. "Baron Renard's son is here. He bypassed the reception hall and is demanding an immediate audience regarding the Frostwater Syndicate."
"Ah. The guild that sells ice and clean water."
Theodore had had these kind of "guilds" come knocking on his door quite often lately. After all, progress often brought about changes. And people lost jobs. It wasn't just ice and water, either. The kilns and the soap had made people lose their jobs, but it was all for the betterment of the town. However, those guilds were not very happy with him.
Theodore was not very happy with them either. They had made threats against him, trying to get him to stop his "progress."
Sure, he was the reason for their troubles, but he wasn't going to stop. He wouldn't allow their petty greed and entitlement to get in the way of progress. At most he could offer them new work. That's what he'd been doing up till now, anyway.
Some agreed, some didn't.
This particular guild, however...
"Tell them I'll see them."
The man bowed, and left
Clean water? What a joke. These people were nothing more than disgusting filth.
They had taken issue with one little town like Holden daring to bypass their monopoly. Well, "little" was debatable now, but their small branch in this town had provided him with plenty of evidence of their true nature. If all of this Frostwater Syndicate's branches handled things like the one who had distributed their products to Holden and neighboring towns, he would feel absolutely nothing ruthlessly tearing them out by the roots.
Moments later, the doors swung open. Baron Renard's son strode in like he owned the place. He was draped in masterfully tailored velvet and fur, a man whose wealth was entirely built on the suffering of others.
He was flanked by two heavily armored enforcers, his chin tilted up in arrogant disdain as he looked around Theodore's study.
"Lord Theodore." The man bowed slightly despite himself. "I'm glad to see you're doing well."
"What can I do for you?" Theodore asked. The man smiled
"We are here to discuss the water and ice situation," the man said. "I'm sure you know that the water and ice trade has been suffering greatly due to your actions." Theodore knew. It wasn't his goal to make them suffer, but their suffering was undoubtedly caused by his actions.
"Ah, yes," Theodore said. "I do know that."
"Well then, I'm sure you understand that this needs to stop, yes?" The man smiled. Theodore smiled back.
"I'm afraid not," Theodore said. "You see, the water and ice trade was already on its last legs. I'm merely speeding up the process."
"Are you aware of the damage you're causing to our livelihoods?" The man asked.
"I am," Theodore said. "However, I don't see why I should care. After all, the water and ice trade was already on its way out. I'm just speeding up the process."
Theodore smiled back. The man's smile disappeared, his disdain returning to the surface.
"You're going to regret this," the man said. "We are not the kind of people you want to mess with.”
Theodore merely rested his elbow on the armrest, resting his cheek on his hand as he leveled a dead stare at the nobleman.
"I'm sure," Theodore said dryly
"As you should be. Your little infrastructure stunts—these pipes, these localized refrigeration units—are severely disrupting the natural economic order of the region. The Syndicate's trade is suffering due to your reckless actions. Are you fully aware of the damage you are causing? We are not local merchants you can bully."
"Suffering," Theodore repeated rather flatly.
"Yes."
If they were going to try to hurt him or his town, he'd deal with them accordingly.
In fact, the process was underway already.
After all, this had not been these guys' first attempt at intimidation, pathetic as it may be.
And he had one of his clone on their tail for quite a bit now, and he'd finally found some incriminating evidence.
"You see," Theodore leaned back. "I don't take kindly to slavery."
The man tilted his head in confusion. "What do you mean, lord Theodore?"
"Slavery." He repeated. "I don't like it, and I don't like slavers. And I really don't appreciate them trying to intimidate me, or threaten my town."
The man's eyes narrowed. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you're saying, lord Theodore."
"Don't play coy. It bores me," Theodore stood up slowly. Though Renard's son was a tall man, Theodore's presence made him look agonizingly small. "You peddle 'clean' water and pristine ice, yes? I know exactly how you manufacture it. But what do impoverished ice mages you have chained in your freezing, subterranean basements matter? After all, they're merely forced to exhaust their mana until they cough up blood just to meet your quotas."
"That's a lie." The man growled.
"Are the desperate people you trap in predatory debts they can never repay a lie as well? You send them into the biting cold in rags to cut and haul your magical ice. When they lose fingers to frostbite, you add the medical supplies to their debt. You build your wealth on a foundation of rotting flesh and broken minds. Is that worth it, I wonder?"
"Those are bold accusations, Lord Theodore," the man hissed, taking a step back, his bravado crumbling into defensive rage. "You have no proof of such slander. You think you can touch me? We will—"
"You're not going to do a damn thing," Theodore said, stopping just inches from the baron's son.
"Because while you were busy trying to intimidate me, one of my men has been shadowing your operations for weeks. I have your ledgers, and your magical contracts. I have the names of the mages you've bound and the locations of your holding cells. Do you really want to mess with me and mine?"
"You... you wouldn't dare."
"I don't take kindly to threats," Theodore said, "and I absolutely despise parasites walking into my home and threatening my people."
Theodore gestured toward the door dismissively.
"Get out of my sight. Go back to your estate. By the time you arrive, you'll find your mages freed, your debtors absolved, and your guild burned to the ground. If I ever see your face in Holden again, I won't just take your business. I'll take your life."