Ch.81Repository of Knowledge

“Ughhhh….”

After 120 hours of labor per week, the civil servants of Amurtat successfully classified millions of books one by one.

Selecting which books would go into the library took an additional week, but after such immense labor, they finally had books for the library, and their hard work deserved recognition.

“Now! Today, eat and drink without worry! This is a special reward from His Majesty!”

“Wow! Pork! Chicken! Beef!”

“Wine… beer… whiskey… even brandy!”

Having pushed them to their limits, Tiberius judged it was time to let off some steam and granted the civil servants meat and alcohol to “release pressure.”

He could afford such expenses after mercilessly working the civil servants for the past few months, and despite paying them salaries, working 120 hours per week was no small feat, necessitating additional compensation.

And so, after pushing all the organized books into a spatial storage, the exhausted civil servants began to soothe their fatigue by filling their empty stomachs with alcohol and meat.

*

“Phew. Now it’s time to build the library.”

Tiberius snapped his fingers, summoning construction materials to the site.

Having the administrative capacity to prepare materials in advance and the production capacity to produce those materials was one of the important criteria distinguishing beginners from intermediate rulers.

“A library… I hope this one doesn’t burn down.”

“Hmm? Burn down?”

“It’s… it’s nothing. In the city where I served before joining you, libraries suffered many misfortunes… fires were common, and there were cult gatherings… anyway, suppressing those incidents was no small trouble.”

“Well… that’s the fate of all libraries.”

Libraries are basically filled with wood and leather, making them vulnerable to moisture, so various devices are used to remove moisture as much as possible, which means they’re also prone to fires. The advantage of accessing diverse information also has the disadvantage of potentially accessing “too” diverse knowledge.

“Don’t worry too much. This library will be different.”

“Is that so?”

“What happened in the previous city… consider it paying your dues.”

Tiberius comforted his aide, patting him on the shoulder.

“Now that the library and magic tower are being built, surpassing a population of 1 million is practically a foregone conclusion… Isn’t that remarkable growth? We couldn’t have come this far without your help.”

The aide’s lord raised him up and showed him the city as dawn was ending.

Amurtat came alive again as people began to rise, nourished by the reddish sunlight.

Shops gradually began to open, people left their homes for work, and smoke slowly cleared from chimneys.

Once again, morning approached, and another day was beginning.

“We’ve created this beautiful city… hundreds of thousands of people working more diligently than anyone… organized residential areas and public facilities… the Bonyard and Steelyard… and soon the library and magic towers… even the academic society. Through victory in war, we’ve accomplished so much. Don’t you agree?”

“What is gained through war can be lost through war.”

“Then we must continue to win.”

Saying this, Tiberius poured a glass of well-aged wine and handed it to his aide.

“You still have work to do. This is royal wine. Accept it gratefully.”

“I humbly accept your command.”

The aide knelt and drank the royal wine.

*

“Is there any meaning in building a library?”

In a café in downtown Amurtat, an intellectual asked suspiciously.

“A library is a treasure trove of knowledge. You can freely read countless books. Don’t you know the significance of that act?”

The one answering was his friend sitting across from him, leisurely drinking tea.

They were men who had fled from Fahrenheit before the war, each burdened with massive debt from fraud and failed investments, and had settled in Amurtat to survive.

“What I mean is, to read books, one must first be literate, right?”

“That’s true.”

“Then schools are needed to teach literacy… and Amurtat lacks them… schools, I mean.”

“I can’t deny that. But didn’t we learn in university? Rapid growth comes with side effects.”

“Indeed. And that’s how we can make money.”

The intellectual fingered a few silver coins on the table.

They could read, of course, and were making money by teaching the continental common script to Amurtat’s children.

“How many do you teach?”

“Forty.”

“That’s a lot. I only teach ten…”

“I have six family members now… I can’t maintain my livelihood teaching just a few like you.”

“I see. I hope you don’t lose your hard-earned money on investments this time.”

“Hmm.”

In truth, despite their calm appearance, they were walking a precarious tightrope.

The reason was simple: they were from Fahrenheit.

Fahrenheit’s diplomatic failure, the resulting conflict, and then war… In the current climate, people from Fahrenheit were not welcome in Amurtat.

For them, who vividly remembered being treated with respect as people from a great nation, having to be careful not to reveal their Fahrenheit accent even when ordering at a café was utterly humiliating.

“Sigh… who would have thought our homeland would be defeated…”

“Even if we had won, our treatment wouldn’t have changed. It might have been worse.”

“…”

It’s natural for a defeated nation to harbor resentment toward the victor. Moreover, intellectuals are universally regarded as pretentious ink-soaked types, so they might have been beaten or even killed.

Ding!

Just then, the café door opened, and a man wearing the uniform of an Amurtat civil servant entered.

The two men were startled but quickly composed themselves and silently sipped their tea.

“Welcome~! What can I get you?”

“I’m looking for someone.”

Flinch!

The two men flinched again at those words.

While there could be many reasons for a civil servant to look for someone, good outcomes were extremely rare.

“What kind of person?”

“Two men. Both scholars from Fahrenheit.”

“They’re right there.”

At the disloyal employee’s gesture, the civil servant’s eyes turned to the two men.

As his empty, emotionless gaze fell upon them, the two men thought their lives were over.

It wasn’t surprising. It was common practice for victorious nations to purge remnants of the defeated by crushing vulnerable intellectuals.

Thud… Thud…

But even so, could they calmly accept death? That was beyond human limitation.

As the civil servant approached, their hands trembled as they tried to calmly drink tea, and their feet shook in their shoes.

In the face of death’s terror, no matter how much learning or wisdom one has accumulated, everyone is ultimately equal.

Tap.

Finally, the civil servant stopped in front of their table.

“Alexander Eder. Aiden Barker. Correct?”

“Y-y-yes?”

“Come with me. His Majesty has a task for you.”

“A task?”

“Yes. Something about expanding educational facilities, according to my superiors… You would know better than I. Attend the briefing at the building indicated here by this evening. If you don’t come, there will be punishment.”

“By punishment… you mean?”

The civil servant showed rather than told.

He made a fist with one hand, extended his thumb, and then drew it across his throat in a cutting motion.

That explanation was sufficient, and Alexander and Aiden stared blankly at the map on the table.

“So he didn’t come to kill us?”

“It seems not… unless they’re planning to gather us all in this building to kill us.”

The two men examined the map, leaving their now-cold teacups.

It showed a public bathhouse they both frequented, likely chosen as a makeshift auditorium due to the lack of facilities to accommodate large numbers of people.

“So? I’m planning to go. What about you?”

“Don’t joke. He said our throats would be cut if we don’t go. I have a succubus-like wife and halfling-like children.”

“Then… it’s decided.”

And so, Tiberius’s scheme to improve public education alongside the library in Amurtat was successfully set in motion.