I Picked Up the Fallen Earth

Chapter 7 The Dwarven Craft (2)

The Hanes county.

It was called a hub of trade, embracing the fertile Insid River, and having gained trading rights from the royal family, it was still growing by collecting significant taxes from the surrounding domains.

Leveraging its geopolitical position to amass great wealth, it had even risen from a barony to an earldom in the previous generation by spreading substantial bribes throughout the central political arena.

Although Count Hanes wasn’t a war noble, he was famously known as a ‘golden noble,’ adept at resolving political situations with money.

Of course, the Hanes family wasn’t initially golden nobles.

300 years ago, during what was called the golden age of mages, they had actively participated in wars.

Now, as mana became scarce across the continent, the Hanes family found themselves unable to exert power in wars, but that wasn’t a major problem.

After all, the count had an abundance of gold.

Count Hanes had studied magic, but he had aged without even surpassing the first circle.

In compensation, his eye for wealth was quite keen, making his misdirection not entirely a misstep.

Count Hanes, visiting the Baron Farrow’s household to collect taxes, was incredulously staring at Baron Romid who, out of the blue, had brought a family heirloom.

“Did you say this is the Farrow household’s heirloom?”

“Yes. Recently, Baron Farrow went on an expedition and lost a good number of troops. With barbarians descending from the north and battles occurring, rumors of war seem to have made the baronet quite anxious.”

“To send an heirloom? Does that make any sense?”

Initially thinking the heirloom should be returned, Count Hanes was astonished upon seeing the ring.

Encased with it was a mystical spirit ascending to the heavens. He couldn’t peel his eyes away from the beautifully embroidered image.

The craft, set upon gold and intricately inlaid with jewels, appeared impossible to be the work of human hands, and the ring inside was even more so.

Wasn’t a spirit carrying a blue sapphire skyward? The precision of the craft made it seem as if the spirit would burst out of the ring.

Having honed his eye through long years of trade, Count Hanes recognized this wasn’t a human-made item.

“Isn’t this a dwarven craft!”

“A, a dwarven craft, you say!?”

Baron Romid, listening to the Count, was equally startled.

If he hadn’t been sworn to loyalty to the Count, he might have fled with such a beautifully crafted item.

But a dwarven craft, of all things.

It was called a treasure for a reason, but he hadn’t fully grasped it until now.

“It seems the Farrow household has decided to gamble everything in this generation rather than leaving an inheritance for the next.”

“A difficult decision, that must have been.”

“Still, shouldn’t we respect it?”

The count chuckled lightly.

What of it if it was a treasure?

As long as a fair price was paid, it was of no concern.

If one could buy such an item with money, there was no better trade.

In this era where family honor was valued above all, leaving an item to be inherited as a treasure was considered a significant achievement.

The count calmed his bubbling excitement.

Certainly, the item was too grand a gift to receive lightly.

Facing the obligation to reciprocate with at least a 10% increase was indeed burdensome.

It was unlikely the dwarf-crafted item was sent without a reason.

“What does the Baron household desire?”

“They wished for a mana cultivation technique and arms.”

“A mana cultivation technique?”

The count furrowed his brows.

To have sent an heirloom for something so significant, they indeed sought something of great value.

As mana was depleting across the continent, bringing magic to near extinction, the cultivation technique could not be easily passed on to just anyone.

The Hanes family’s technique had been secretly passed down through generations.

Except in special cases, it was never transmitted to outsiders.

“Milord, if magic is heading towards extinction anyway, what about this approach?”

“Do you have a suggestion?”

“The young lord of the barony wished for the technique. The baron will soon retire. With his right arm lost and his illness deepening, his time is uncertain. Intend it for the young lord, give him a manuscript, and make a contract prohibiting its transmission to others.”

“Ah, go on.”

“The moment Young Master Jeron enters into the contract, it will be absolutely legislated. It’s good news if a descendant skilled in the Count’s mana cultivation technques appears in future generations, as it would provide a pretext for a land dispute. If he adheres to the contract, the intangible mana cultivation technque will vanish from the Farrow lineage.”

The Count smiled in satisfaction.

Indeed, the tax collector was a cunning fox.

When it came to money, the head of Baron Romid spun with exceptional agility.

“There might be some surplus then.”

“Since he desired weapons, sending 30 sets each of armor, helmets, and swords should suffice.”

“Ha-ha-ha! This is entirely your merit. It might be troublesome, but make a trip to the Baron’s family right away. Who knows, they might change their minds.”

“I will heed your command!”

***

Jeron could barely contain his eagerness to cross over to Earth right away.

The golden key was recharging.

Naturally, it would take at least three days to recharge, so it was imperative to charge it by this evening at the latest.

Since Lord Ark Farrow was still recuperating, Jeron had to run around tirelessly, acting as the lord in his stead, his soles sweating with the effort.

The southern subsidiary village of Farrow’s land, Rabethan, was located in the kingdom’s utmost north, and its climate was exceptionally cold.

Not only was the weather an issue, but Jeron also knew that the land’s soil was a whitish acid soil, resulting in low yields.

Because of this, the land couldn’t escape poverty, a stark contrast to the blessed land of Count Hanes.

Thus, people resorted to nomadism, and herb collectors wandered deep into the mountains.

With many mountains nearby, there were plenty of wild beasts, leading to frequent losses of livestock or the deaths of herb collectors deep in the mountains.

Upon entering Rabethan, a foul stench pervaded the air.

While he managed to get used to the smell of dung, the smell of decaying bodies was still hard to adjust to, despite having witnessed countless deaths in his past and current lives.

“This is terrible.”

“Last year, the drought was severe, resulting in almost no yield. We did provide relief within the fiscal limits, but we hit our limit. It’s a common occurrence, anyway.”

Kain, who had been working as a financial officer in the territory for two generations, spoke as if it was nothing unusual.

In this heartless world, it was common for the people of the territory to starve to death.

While efforts were made to prevent starvation among the territory’s population, problems became severe once barbarians began raiding.

Already, over a hundred bodies had been found in the village, which subsisted on agriculture by hundreds of people.

The financial officer expressed relief that no plague had spread.

“No matter how uncivilized a society, is there no sense of ethics?”

Neither the financial officer nor the soldiers, busy disposing of the bodies, seemed concerned about the dead, fearing disease rather than feeling sorrow for the deceased.

In such an emotionless setting, Jeron, responsible for the territory, could hardly make a fuss.

“How is it this year?”

“Sigh, the drought is severe this year too. Next year, we might see even more deaths from starvation. With the military forces dwindling and labor decreasing, it’s worrisome.”

Deaths from starvation were rampant among adults, the elderly, and children alike. If this continued, a significant crisis would ensue.

‘We need food.’

Fortunately, Jeron still had some heirlooms in his possession.

An old dragon ring had even gained status as a treasure, so perhaps the heirlooms he brought could also be monetized?

Even with the drought, money could solve many problems.

The Count’s domain was an international trading city.

Imports could be brought in from there.

Until now, the Farrow Barony lacked the funds to import food.

This time, they might manage, but that couldn’t be a permanent solution.

Seeing people strip bark off trees to eat sparked a brilliant idea in Jeron’s mind.

He quickly took out his notebook and wrote:

[Crops for relief in times of famine. Other various seeds.]

He planned to bring over improved seeds from the fallen Earth.

Crops for relief in times of famine thrived even in barren land.

After all, that was why they were named crops for times of hunger, to be grown and consumed during lean periods.

In addition to crops that had been improved upon for thousands of years on Earth, these plants exhibited a tenacious vitality.

In modern times, scientists had gone as far as to modify their DNA to increase yields significantly. What if such crops were planted?

While it might take at least a few years to see effects, simply reducing the number of people dying of starvation in the territory was an achievement in itself.

While there were weight limits on what could be brought from Earth, bringing something as trivial as seeds hardly counted as an effort. It was almost guaranteed that there would be a seed shop in the countryside villages.

As dusk fell while clearing the village of debris, one remarked, “Is it already so late?”

“Heh, indeed. These days, time just flies by without notice.”

“It would be handy to know the time.”

“Is there a way to do that? I’ve heard that in the royal capital, they have sundials, but those boast astronomical prices. And even then, they can’t tell the time accurately.”

“A clock?”

If there were clocks, not only would they be incredibly useful in farming, but they could also facilitate the planning of precise military operations during wartime. Jeron immediately took out his notebook.

[Clock]

He couldn’t be sure he could get everything, but by listing down each necessity, he would be ready to seize the opportunity when it came. The village was beginning to get somewhat sorted when Lieutenant Garcia hurried over.

“Young lord!”

“What’s happened?”

“The Count’s house has sent someone!”

“Oh?”

That was good news. With famine rampant in his territory, he needed to extract food by any means necessary.

***

Jeron recently encountered the tax collector, Baron Romid, once again. Romid’s excited demeanor alone revealed how significantly the dragon ring had influenced the Count’s household. Romid handed over a copy of a mana technique manual.

“As you are well aware, Young lord, mana technique manuals are a closely guarded secret passed down through the generations of a family. Under no circumstances are they to be taught to outsiders. However, our lord admires your passion and has decided to transfer it to you upon signing a contract.”

“What kind of contract?”

“It’s simple. Memorize it and then burn it within a week, do not pass it on to others; breaking this agreement will lead to severe consequences. That’s all.”

“Indeed!”

“Ah, to think the workmanship of the dwarves guarantees such quality!”

The knights sighed as they watched.

Jeron chuckled. He could sign such a contract without hesitation. Moreover, Baron Romid brought as many as thirty sets of armor and weapons.

Knight James inspected the quality, affirming that they were indeed top-grade and ready for immediate use. Trading a mere dragon ring worn by country elders for all this was a massive profit.

The contract proceeded solemnly. Noble contracts could potentially alter the destiny of a family, reflecting the era’s high regard for such agreements. After completing the procedure, Jeron spread out a plethora of items on the table.

“Interesting.”

The craftsmanship of the items spread out was even superior to the dragon ring he had given days before. Jeron expected Baron Romid would value them highly. However, not only Romid but also the knights seemed to respond weirdly.

“These are indeed superior crafts. They may not be treasures, but they are valuable enough to fetch a high price. Do you wish to sell them?”

“Indeed… I will take food in exchange.”

“You are a wise and benevolent lord. Your subjects shall praise your virtue.”

At this point, Jeron found himself somewhat baffled.

‘Do these folks prefer something more rustic? Like a snake dagger, perhaps.’