“Kill them all.”
“?!”
Mark’s eyes widened in shock at Joseph’s words.
“W-Wait! Sir Joseph, no matter how much of a knight you are or how we’re former members of the expedition… If we kill the guards recklessly…”
“Don’t worry. We’re official employees of the Arad Trading Company, far above such matters.”
With those words, the 10-to-3 battle commenced.
“Aaaagh!”
“Kraaah!”
The result was a resounding victory for Sir Joseph’s side.
“Here. Is this the one?”Thunk.
Den tossed the severed head of the creditor who had tried to flee at Mark’s feet.
“By the way, Mark, are you still having nightmares?”
“……!”
Mark, who had been staring at the severed head, looked up and spoke.
“I don’t think I’ll be having them anymore.”
His gaze fixed on Joseph’s restored left arm.
“Dad…!”
As the situation settled down, Daisy ran into Mark’s arms.
“Yes, my daughter. It’s all right. It’s all right now. Everything’s fine.”
Mark, unable to use his missing arms, used his face to nuzzle Daisy’s head in a comforting gesture.
How much time had passed like that?
Finally feeling the full embrace of her father, Daisy began to calm down and regain her composure.
Although corpses were still scattered all around, Daisy was a Northerner.
Growing up, she had often seen dead bodies, both human and monster.
“Were they like you, Dad? Disabled?”
Her curiosity and awe-filled eyes turned toward Joseph and the others.
Daisy was fixated on their unique prosthetics, their skin strange yet mesmerizing.
***
On the outskirts of Renslet’s High Tower, several large buildings had recently been erected.
Though hastily constructed, they were far from shoddy.
‘Incredible. They’ve managed to implement reinforced concrete construction in such a barren land.’
It appeared that the mineral-rich North had developed construction methods using lime powder and rebar.
Word had it that this technology had been preserved since the Golden Age.
‘Well, the North was one of the few regions that escaped the madness of the Dark Ages.’
While the Empire had only recently adopted such techniques, the North had been using them for centuries.
Even when they were savage druidic barbarians, they had never forgotten the secrets of reinforced concrete or Northern Cold Iron.
‘Add the witches’ spirit magic to the mix… No wonder the Grand Barrier and the High Tower were built in this frozen wasteland.’
These robust and immense buildings were being constructed far faster than anything on Earth.
‘I like these factories better than the ones back on Earth.’
Even from the perspective of someone from Earth, the factories were highly satisfactory.
Five such factory buildings were under construction, with the first one already completed.
Around the completed building, elite knights and soldiers from the High Tower stood guard, maintaining strict security.
Inside, the manufacturing process was in full swing.
At the entrance, dozens of men were sawing and carving monster remains.
“Hey, Bill! Is the femur done?”
“Finished! Take those over there.”
“Got it!”
The scene was unusual even by the standards of this world.
Some workers focused exclusively on carving bones.
Others worked solely on cutting muscle.
There were even specialists dedicated to tendons and hides.
Once the initial processing was complete, the materials were loaded onto carts and transported further inside.
“Careful! Careful! Move it slowly!”
“Watch the heat! If you burn it again like last time, your pay’s getting docked!”
The deeper they went, the more meticulous the work became.
Masked workers clad in thick clothing and gloves were sweating profusely as they boiled the processed materials.
“How long has Pot 3 been boiling?”
“Pot 3? Take it out and deliver it to the witches!”
“Pot 15’s a failure! Failure! Cleanup team, come handle it!”
Some workers submerged materials into vats, others stirred ceaselessly, and yet others focused solely on cleaning and moving goods to ensure a smooth workflow.
At the heart of the building, selected witches engraved magical circuits onto magic stones and monster materials, all while letting out groans of exhaustion.
“This… This isn’t artifact crafting!”
“What an ignorant and soulless production method!”
“Gathering materials, refining them, enchanting them, and lovingly naming the finished product—that’s how artifacts should be made!”
Even the elite task of inscribing magical circuits, something only mages could do, wasn’t spared from the monotonous grind of factory work.
“My back is killing me! Sitting here engraving lines all day!”
“Shut up. At least the pay’s good.”
“True. That’s the only reason I’m doing this. If only my apprentice hadn’t burned down my lab trying to cook…”
“I’m sorry, Master…”
“Never mind! What’s done is done. Take this to the back exit. Tell them it’s security-enchanted and ready to go.”
“Yes, Master…”
Even at the factory’s core, the process wasn’t complete.
The magically refined materials were loaded onto carts and sent to the back exit for the final assembly stage.
“The next candidate is a former soldier named Mark… Looks like he lost both arms. How has he survived this long?”
“He lost both arms? Impressive. What are his height, weight, and torso measurements?”
Workers reading the candidates’ physical information proceeded to fit bones, magic stones, and muscles tailored to their bodies.
Once again, each specialist handled their specific task—bones, muscles, tendons, or magic stone fittings.
To Earthlings, this factory system was familiar, but to the people of this world, it was entirely foreign.
Previously, artisans had personally crafted each item from start to finish in their workshops.
Here, however, rigorous standardization and division of labor enabled mass production. Even a primitive imitation of a conveyor belt system, using carts, drastically sped up production.
Outside the building, near the rear entrance, people missing arms or legs waited eagerly, their faces filled with anticipation.
“Next! Mark, step forward!”
“Yes!”
“Dad!”
“Yes, my daughter. I’ll be back soon!”
“Okay!”
Mark parted with his daughter momentarily and stepped into the building.
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