episode_0061

61. A New Era

Five days passed in the blink of an eye.

I worked tirelessly in a frenzy and successfully completed the construction preparations.

Stretching lightly, I loosened my stiff joints and let out a small sigh.

“It was tough.”

Then, I briefly reflected on the time that had flown by so quickly.

First, I received the land from Adel and measured it again.

Even if it were a rocky hillside packed with stones, since lives were at stake, I proceeded with caution.

Fortunately, the site turned out to be incredibly sturdy, and we prepared accordingly.

The mages drilled cylindrical holes called “boreholes” to meticulously inspect the ground beneath.

Afterward, we poured molten iron to firmly stabilize the foundation before erecting steel bars to shape the walls and columns.

“Sir, how about proposing to build underground facilities as well?”

“Based on my calculations, using ‘concrete,’ constructing underground structures is entirely feasible.”

Aris had made such a suggestion, but…

“If we try to build underground now, it’ll take too long.”

“Since this mansion is temporary housing for commoners…”

“It’s a good idea, but it strays too far from our purpose.”

“I-I see. My apologies for getting ahead of myself.”

The first modern apartment building was constructed in 1904.

It wasn’t until 58 years later, around 1962, that underground parking lots were introduced.

Of course, even in medieval times without magic, there were buildings built from the ground up underground.

The problem is, concrete is heavier than lime mortar, especially for a 15-story structure.

But the terrifying part is that Aris calculated underground construction as a possibility.

How was that even possible in this era, without properly formulated mathematics…?

“When Countess Erika comes later, we’re planning urban development, right?”

“Let’s leisurely construct apartments with underground facilities for the wealthy then.”

“If we’re doing it, might as well make them large, marketable, and expensive.”

“Yes!”

The geniuses in this world lack knowledge, yet their intelligence surpasses mine.

Though there are minor errors, they flawlessly calculate using complex, outdated methods because they are geniuses.

If they had the same knowledge as me, it’d be terrifying.

Anyway, the foundation work was completed in a single day thanks to the mages.

After that, Brook and Eightree took charge of cement production.

75% of the limestone already stored, plus 25% clay procured personally from Scalets with Adel—

They ground the limestone into powder before mixing it with the clay like dough.

Then, they fed it into the furnace Brook had painstakingly built.

The temperature was raised to a scorching 1,450 degrees—hot enough to melt steel—to begin baking.

But… I still couldn’t comprehend how a medieval furnace could reach 1,450 degrees.

“Hey, genius. How long are we baking?”

“Until it clumps into round shapes.”

Dwarves—known for their heat resistance.

Brook, wearing only thin clothes and a leather apron, stared into the furnace with bare eyes.

After watching for a while with half-lidded eyes, he turned back to me.

“They’re starting to clump! Round, about walnut-sized!”

“Bake them a bit longer. Until everything clumps together.”

“Fascinating. I’ve never seen powder turn into round lumps when baked.”

The powdered limestone mixed with clay—

At high temperatures, the limestone decomposes into CaO, reacting with the clay to form compounds like calcium silicate (Ca₂SiO₄, Ca₃SiO₅).

These small beads began forming—what’s called “clinker.”

“Now, lower the temperature.”

“At your command, Captain.”

Brook replied playfully before pulling down a steel cord connected to the furnace.

Like bellows, the moment the cord was tugged, the crimson flames surging from beneath the furnace transformed instantly.

As they turned into a brilliant blue light, the surrounding air cooled so sharply that goosebumps rose on my thick arms.

“What… is this?”

“Eternal Ice! One of the dwarves’ crafted tools.”

“……How do you even make something like this?”

“Not really your concern, is it?”

Honestly, the freezing blue flames spewing cold air right before my eyes were more fascinating.

Think about it—flames that can instantly freeze magical objects?

Meanwhile, concrete can barely withstand 1,500 kg per cm² (a square with 1 cm sides).

Heat resistance only up to around 600 degrees.

And a lifespan of just 100 years.

……

Wait.

Is concrete really that amazing?

Anyway, inside the rapidly cooling furnace, the clinker was complete.

Now, all that remained was to extract it and have the mages use crushing magic to refine it into fine powder.

“This should suffice.”

“After 15 years of refining my crushing magic, it finally proves its worth!”

And so, cement was completed.

The cement production site, structured like a factory—

Adel personally hired overseers and budget managers to supervise everything.

Then, retired dwarves—though perpetually drunk—participated in furnace operation.

Mages who’d poorly allocated their skill trees were hired for crushing tasks.

All of this was planned and executed by Aris alone.

Even though she only heard about cement production from descriptions, she perfectly handled the division of labor and building logistics.

Adjusting her intelligent-looking glasses, she turned to me.

(Aris)

“I merely lent a hand to work you had already begun, sir.”

No matter how I think about it… Erica and Aris are both called geniuses because their intelligence outstrips mine.

If I had been born in this world from the start…

No, even if I were like some dime-a-dozen protagonist from a web novel or light novel who didn’t study hard in my original world—I definitely would’ve starved to death.

Should I thank the professors who worked me to the bone writing papers?

Or resent whatever deity reincarnated me without granting me a cheat ability?

“Let’s mix the concrete now.”

“Everything’s ready!”

Pushing aside idle thoughts, it was time to prepare the concrete.

If Brook, with his social skills maxed out, handled the furnace, then Eightree excelled at delicate craftsmanship.

If Brook was hardware, Eightree was software—that’d be a fitting analogy.

And as expected, Eightree expertly crafted the molds.

“1:2:4:0.5! Measured precisely!”

“Well done.”

Cement, sand, gravel, and water mixed in ratios of 1:2:4:1.5.

Eightree forged flawless steel molds for that purpose.

The finely powdered materials were packed into the molds before being tossed into a mixer for thorough blending.

It had been a long and arduous cement-making process.

Since construction wasn’t my expertise, I handed it off to more qualified hands.

“Mr. Antré! Artistry is fine, but architecture isn’t done that way!”

“Good heavens, Ordreubré! That style lacks beauty!”

“But Mr. Antré! Considering the rebar, weight distribution, and pillars—those thin designs are unrealistic.”

“Yet a monotonous gray building is too soulless… devoid of spirit, don’t you think?”

Ah, these folks.

The geniuses who once gathered with Lucarion to meet me.

Among them, the brilliant architect Ordreubré and the artist Mr. Antré—

This world’s equivalents of Antonio Gaudí and Leonardo da Vinci.

The two eccentr… no, geniuses bowed the moment our eyes met.

“We’re truly grateful for this opportunity!”

“Me shares the same sentiment as Ordreubré!”

When I first approached them with the proposal, I was nervous.

Just like in movies, the more famous the actor, the more astronomical their fees, right?

Even with Adel’s backing within a set budget, I worried endlessly about costs.

But the moment they heard my proposal—

“”We’ll do it right away!””

A revolutionary new material and construction techniques never seen in history—

They agreed to design and build the first structure themselves, free of charge.

These two were eccentric yet supremely skilled geniuses.

Already wealthy beyond measure, they chased fame—oddballs in pursuit of legacy.

To put it metaphorically…

Like veteran gamers who’ve exhausted all content now clearing the final boss in just underwear?

To them, the title of “world’s first” was priceless.

Especially in this medieval era, constructing a 15-story building bordered on impossible.

But what truly impressed me was…

“This… is Renaissance style?”

The blueprint on parchment unmistakably evoked Renaissance aesthetics.

Given the timeline—around the 800s—how did this style emerge already?

But recalling Grace Manor or the palace ball gowns, both had Renaissance touches—nothing too unusual.

Even medieval baths, though crude, maintained hygiene surprisingly well.

In a world where absurdities like magic exist, what’s impossible?

Maybe magic granted leisure, skewing artistic sensibility abnormally high…

Or perhaps—

If no nation in this world fulfilled Greece’s historical role?

Adel once mentioned seeing art depicting miniature Greek-style sculptures as beauty standards.

Could Greece and the Middle Ages coexist here?

While pondering, the two eccentrics muttered upon hearing me.

“Renaissance? Hoho… Rebirth, revival… I like it.”

“Indeed, such architecture existed only in imagination before… A visionary new style.”

“True, Mr. Antré… With the world changing, we should name it… Aha!”

Ordreubré bowed and asked:

“Might we have the honor of naming your pioneering style?”

“…Do as you please.”

“Marvelous!”

And so, they resumed debating.

Eyes blazing, they argued for hours.

I dozed off waiting… and it still took them seven hours to settle on a name.

Was it really that crucial?

Why not just call it “Chun-Sik’s Revolution” or the “Manduck Period”?

When I suggested this, Mr. Antré and Ordreubré foam-mouthedly rejected it.

“Brilliant ideas transform the world into art—”

“But your naming sense is truly the worst.”

“Unbelievable! Did you bargain with a demon? Trading naming talent for these abilities…?”

Even I was a little hurt there.

They instantly allied, launching into an impassioned lecture on why “Chun-Sik’s Revolution” ruined artistic integrity.

My ears nearly bled before I half-heartedly apologized.

But then Mr. Antré’s eyes lit up as he declared:

“Invoking art into reality—’evocare.’”

“And refining this into a new term…!”

With conviction, he proclaimed the era’s name:

“The age where dreams materialize—Evone.”

“Mr. Antré, how befitting for an artist to shatter norms.”

“We forge the new age—our ancestors would endorse this naming.”

Ordreubré nodded in approval.

Admittedly, I found “Evone” unexpectedly cool.

But when naming chemicals or pathogens, simple English labels always stuck better.

A flashier, intuitive name would’ve felt more practical…

“Still, ‘Medieval Plus’ has instant recognition, no?”

“””……”””

Two pairs of deadpan stares pierced me.

Seriously, though—this is early Middle Ages, not yet Renaissance.

Something like “Super Medieval” or “Half-Renaissance” would’ve had flair too.

Auguste Rodin believed beauty lay in chiseling away excess—not addition.

Hence, the sleek “Medieval Plus Expansion” felt clean and modern.

Had my suggestion outshone “Evone”?

Mr. Antré and Ordreubré squinted at me in disdain.

“…For the dawn of Evone!”

“Mr. Antré! Truly a splendid name!”

“Medieval Plus…!”

“How intriguing the changing era will be! Haha!”

……

This is why non-artistic fools ruin everything.

Like villagers with one eye calling two-eyed freaks abnormal—same energy.

Later, I’ll just have Erika enforce “Medieval Plus” officially.