Chapter 40: An Iron Mine?

“Is it possible to build a basement here, about a hundred square meters in size?” Verin pointed to a spot beside the stables and posed his question.

“My lord, it can be done, but if so, we won’t be able to proceed with the second phase of construction.”

“The second phase can wait. Finish the basement first—I have use for it.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Eunice hesitated for a moment, but accepted the order.

Afterward, led by Eunice, Verin began to tour the areas that had already been completed. As he walked through, he felt fortunate that he’d hired an architect to build his castle; there were so many intricacies to the work, and only through clever use of materials could the walls’ defensive capabilities be fully realized.

At one of the battlements, Verin drew his long sword and slashed at the wall with all his strength. Only a faint mark remained.

“Not bad. Those thirty-five hundred gold coins weren’t wasted—there’s a reason for the price.”

Eunice, standing nearby, froze for a moment at his words, then quickly composed herself with the poise of a lady.

“My lord, if you have magical materials, I can inscribe some simple magical arrays onto the walls to enhance their protection.”

“Oh? So you know magic as well?”

To prove her claim, Eunice immediately chanted a spell, conjuring a small flame before her. Verin eyed the tiny flicker—one breath could extinguish it—with suspicion. He doubted her real ability; perhaps she only wanted to use his magical materials to further her own power.

Sensing the awkwardness, Eunice hurried to explain: “My lord, I am not skilled in combat. Yes, all my talent lies in inscribing magical arrays and in architecture. I also know a bit about beast taming.”

“Eunice, I cannot take your word for it right now. Besides, I have no magical materials for you to use.” Verin spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

At these words, a shadow passed over Eunice’s eyes, but she quickly recovered and continued leading Verin on the tour.

Along the way, the two resumed their calm rapport: Eunice explained, Verin nodded his approval. From their earlier conversation, Verin understood the half-elf girl’s motives—she did not wish to spend the next ten years merely as an architect, wasting her youth.

Verin had previously promised that after ten years of service, Eunice would regain her freedom.

From her tone and movements, Verin could sense her confusion and unease about the future. But for now, he had no intention of accepting Eunice as one of his retainers—at least, not until the castle was finished. To evaluate someone, one must not only understand her personally, but also observe those around her.

After the inspection, Verin gave a few words of encouragement to the workers, then descended the hill and returned to the village.

Surveying the barren landscape around him, Verin fell into deep thought. He wondered if, after gaining strength, the guidance of fate would extend his allotted time. This question had arisen when he broke through as a Silver Knight; for now, he could only wait to test it at the beginning of the next month.

When Verin returned home, Baird came running, his face alight with excitement. “My lord, we’ve discovered an iron mine!”

“Iron mine? Where?” Verin was stunned at first, then quickly pressed for details.

“Eleven kilometers north, there’s a tunnel leading more than a hundred meters underground. While clearing out monsters today, we found many goblins lurking about. I captured a whole bunch, and after some interrogation, we got this information.”

“Lead the way.”

Verin and Baird mounted their horses and set off north.

At the entrance to the tunnel, more than twenty goblins sat dejectedly on the ground. A few whispered among themselves, casting furtive glances at the human guards.

“Boss, what do we do now?” one ugly goblin muttered in their own tongue.

“Wait for nightfall. In the chaos, we make our escape—once we’re back underground, we’re safe,” replied another, clad in leather, his beady eyes darting as he furtively assessed the surroundings for a possible escape route.

As a cunning mining goblin, he was a figure of some renown in the underworld. He had come up today to trade with the nearby goblins for surface goods, only to blunder into a large band of humans. The goods were lost, and he and his fellows were captured.

Fortunately, he was clever enough to speak the common tongue and had spun a story—otherwise, he’d have ended up like his unfortunate brothers, turned into bloody pulp.

As for the iron mine, that was, of course, just a tale to trick these humans. The tunnel was only a meter high—he doubted these people would bother crawling in to check.

Moreover, the other goblins around him were all dim-witted and couldn’t speak the common tongue. As long as he stuck to his story, the humans would have no way of telling truth from lies.

Then, noticing the slight trembling of pebbles on the ground, the goblin named Gree looked up and saw the humans returning, this time accompanied by a stranger. With twenty years of life experience and as a father of eight, he instantly deduced that this young man must be the leader.

The vanished goblins, he guessed, had also fallen victim to this man.

Verin arrived at the holding area and dismounted from his red-phosphor horse, striding directly to the cluster of goblins.

“My lord, this is the goblin who speaks the common tongue,” Baird said respectfully, pointing at Gree, who wore leather.

Hearing their exchange, Gree quickly scrambled over and kowtowed on the ground. “Great lord, Gree meant no offense to your domain—please spare my wretched life!”

Verin looked down at the tiny creature, unleashed his aura, and exerted a pressure that forced the low-ranked bronze goblin to the ground, shivering in terror.

“I ask you: is there truly an iron mine a hundred meters below?”

Feeling the crushing pressure, Gree gritted his teeth and replied, “Great lord, what Gree says is… is true.”

Verin’s expression remained unreadable, as if lost in thought.

Gree, prostrate on the ground, suffered in agony, fearing that at any moment he would be executed.

A swift slash—blood spattered.

“Apologies, my aim was off,” Verin said coldly, flicking the blood from his knight’s sword.

Gree frantically felt himself, then turned to see the headless corpse of his companion. Terror overwhelmed him and he wet himself on the spot.

“My lord, I swear it’s true! There really is an iron mine below—you can send men to check if you don’t believe me!” Desperate to survive, Gree clung to his lie.

Faced with this merciless human, he knew he would die a terrible death if exposed. Yet even under the shadow of death, Gree stuck to his story—by now, even he had begun to half-believe it himself.