After staying at Lion City for a week, Lark finally returned to Blackstone Town. Gaston and Captain Qarat greeted him immediately.

The old butler showed him a familiar letter, the one given to the village elder. “Young Master, as you instructed, we allocated several houses for the refugees. Currently, they’re staying at the eastern border of the town.”

Lark listened to the butler’s reports regarding the refugees from Gahelpa Village. “So, Anandra’s woken up.” He hadn’t expected the warrior to recover this soon. “Gaston, good job quelling the discontent of the locals. We need those villagers to stay. We need all the manpower we can get.”

From a broader perspective, Lark’s domain was vast, comparable to a county. The northern and western regions of Blackstone Town alone were enough to create a large city. If they included the Endless Forest, the overall territory would be several times greater. The only thing limiting the growth of his domain right now were people. Lark needed manpower—as much of it as possible.

“Ah, also…” Gaston paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. “I received a report regarding three unknown hooded figures. A lot of people saw them; they wore full plate armor.”

Lark realized the butler was referring to the Guardians of Blackstone Town. He waved a hand and dismissed his doubts. “It’s fine. I know who you mean. Rest assured, they mean no harm to this town.”

The butler was not fully convinced, but he nodded.

“I sold the kalranes and herbs in Lion City,” said Lark. He pointed at the carts parked near the mansion. “In accordance with the agreement with the Merchants Guild, the first batch of merchants will come here a week from now. Be sure to gather several barrels of kalranes by then.”

“Understood!” The butler bowed his head.

A servant approached them. “Young Master, some of the refugees from Gahelpa Village wish to meet you.”

Lark looked toward the gate and saw several familiar figures standing outside. He nodded at the servant and went to meet his visitors.

“Elder,” greeted Lark the moment he stepped out of the gate. “It’s been almost half a month.”

The elder smiled softly. Beside him was a tall man with golden hair. “Yes. We’re grateful for the benevolence of the young master.” He gently tapped the shoulder of the man beside him. “This is Anandra, the warrior you treated back in the village.”

Lark had been right. It was the warrior that had been on the verge of death.

Anandra bowed his head deeply. He said with a deep but clear voice, “I heard from the elder about the things you’ve done for us, for the village.” He looked at Lark straight in the eyes. “Thank you. For saving my life, for saving the village. Thank you.”

The village’s strongest warrior spoke words filled with heartfelt sincerity.

Lark smiled broadly. “It’s fine. Isn’t it normal for people to help each other out?” He chuckled. “And it’s not like I’m not going to benefit from saving you guys.”

Lark spread out his arms. “I’ll be blunt. I need people. I want all of you to stay here in Blackstone Town.”

After finding out he was among the candidates for the throne, Lark knew he needed to further strengthen the military might of his territory. He knew human nature. Sooner or later, enemies would show up in his town, set on killing him. They would attempt to eliminate him from the competition. He couldn’t care less about the throne, but if they were going to come after his life, he would fight back. That was his resolve.

To his glee, the elder and Anandra agreed.

“If that’s the wish of our savior, we—the entire village—wholeheartedly agree,” said the elder. “There are several strong men in our village. The women are skilled in different crafts. You’ll find them useful for this town.”

“I heard from Sir Gaston that you wish for me to train the soldiers,” said Anandra.

“Ah, that’s right.” He scrutinized Anandra. Several bandages were already removed, though not from his chest. “I need to test your skills first, but we’ll do that once your wounds have healed.”

Now he had taken a closer look, there was something odd about this warrior called Anandra. Lark could not sense the flow of mana in his body, something that would be easily apparent in magicians.

But if he was unable to use magic, how did he drive away the basilisk?

After discussing several more things about the town with the elder, Lark went toward the eastern border, where the mason was. The workers cheered upon seeing the young master; several children ran up and surrounded him.

“The young master’s back!”

“Young Master! Play with us!”

“He came from that big city, right?”

“Ah, Young Master, I’m really sorry!” One of the mothers apologized. She pulled away one of the kids that hugged Lark tight.

Lark chuckled. “It’s alright.” He patted the kid’s head, ruffling his hair.

Looking around, several houses had been finished, a pace previously impossible without the introduction of cement. Lark was glad that the construction project was proceeding at a relatively good speed.

Silver Claw ran to him. “Ah, Young Lord.” He was panting, his face and shirt smeared with dirt. “You could have summoned me to the mansion. There’s no need to come all the way to the eastern border just to see me.”

Lark waved a hand. “It’s fine. I also want to see the state of things in town.” The kids surrounding him dispersed upon seeing the mason.

“The mason is here!”

“Papa said he once ripped a wolf open with his bare hands! Run!”

The kids ran back to their mothers. The construction workers laughed.

Silver Claw glared at his men. “You rascals! What are you telling these children?!”

Ever since Lark had implemented construction projects in the town, the mason was the busiest person around. As one of the locals with the most authority, he made sure to uphold the law and quell all sorts of trouble from his men. He gave off the image of an officer with an iron fist, a tyrant that would not tolerate anyone slacking.

Although the locals admired and respected him, they also greatly feared him.

Silver Claw sighed upon seeing the children’s wary looks. He said to the young master, “What can I do for you this time, sir?”

Lark was amused. “I want you to create several wooden posts for me. Four meters tall, with space at the top for kalrane stones.”

“Wooden posts,” repeated the mason. He had learned not to question the directives of the young master. After all, the lord of this town was wise—a conclusion he had arrived at after several months of working with him.

“We’ll be installing them at the intersections, near the main street. Once the construction of the main road’s finished, it will be relatively safe and easy for the residents to walk outside after dark.”

Lark further explained to the mason that they would be installing kalrane stones at the top of the wooden posts. During the day, the gemstone would gather energy from the sun. During the night, it would light up, illuminating the streets and areas nearby.”

Silver Claw wanted to ask if kalranes were capable of emitting light for more than a dozen hours, but decided against it. He had questioned the authenticity of cement and the farming tools, and the young master had been right. He decided to simply trust his lord this time.

“As you wish,” said Silver Claw. “Does this invention have a name?”

Since kalranes were relatively expensive, only nobles made use of them. And he’d never heard of anyone using it as a source of street light before.

“Name, huh?” Lark had never really thought of it. It was, after all, a relatively simple item which could hardly be called an invention. “How about Sun Lamp?”

Lark could already see it: Blackstone Town illuminated by kalranes at night.