Chapter 83: The Instincts of Capital

In recent days, Lehmann could clearly feel the temperature difference between morning and evening growing more pronounced. Nether was situated in the northern reaches of Faerun, and further north still lay the Great Glacier. Autumn in Sevendon always seemed fleeting, with winter drawing long and cold, nearly a third of the year lost to swirling snow.

Clop, clop...

A carriage approached from the distance.

“Look, another noble’s arrived. People are showing up so early today—how many waves do you think we’ll have?” a carpenter’s apprentice asked the person beside him.

“All right, get to work. Don’t gossip about those important folks,” the red-nosed overseer hurriedly chided.

“Got it, got it!”

By now, those around had grown used to the recent goings-on. Nobles—normally a rare sight—were now arriving daily.

Once it was confirmed that the visitor was a noble, someone immediately went to report to Lehmann.

From afar, Lei could already make out the crest by the carriage. He vaguely recalled it belonging to some knightly family, but that hardly mattered; he’d know soon enough. With a slight sigh, he hurried forward as the carriage came to a stop.

Since the start of the month, his main task each day had become receiving all manner of royals and nobles. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret—had he not been so stingy, and just fenced off the entire site, he wouldn’t have so many headaches now.

He glanced back at the domed structure behind him, remembering the first time he’d received the design from Bourne. He’d had only one thought at that moment:

Utterly rustic!

But since the design was the boss’s own handiwork, Lehmann didn’t have the heart to criticize it. He faithfully handed the blueprints to the architect.

From the plans, the building was clearly a half-egg-shell structure—yet once construction began, it turned out to be grand and imposing.

The boss had suggested perhaps draping cloth around it or creating a barrier to conceal it a bit, but upon calculating the costs, Lehmann saw that just the outer screening would run at least ten thousand gold coins—a sum that felt like his very lifeblood. This headquarters was meant to be seen, after all—why hide it? Saving that money was far more appealing!

Yet a month later, Lehmann was already regretting his decision. The so-called rustic dome, once complete, was nothing short of majestic and awe-inspiring. By then, it was too late to obscure it; every day crowds gathered to point and gossip, and the building’s strange appearance began attracting the attention of not a few noble scholars.

A handful of these scholars even sought out Lehmann, much to his astonishment. He answered their questions openly, and when they learned Bourne was the designer, they too were visibly surprised.

Soon after, word spread through the circles of Nether’s aristocracy, and curiosity drew ever more visitors to see this peculiar structure. In no time, Lehmann’s company had become well-known among the nobility, no longer dismissed as a mere joke.

Every day brought new guests—some to tour the site, others simply to make Lehmann’s acquaintance. He could scarcely have imagined this before. As a commoner, besides his boss, no noble had ever initiated a conversation with him. No matter how well his company did, he had always been ignored.

Now, these same nobles sought him out, and Lehmann found it all quite incomprehensible—almost as if he’d unwittingly stumbled into some kind of trouble.

Nearly two months had passed, and in all that time, the boss had not come by even once to inspect the site, which piqued Lehmann’s curiosity.

The headquarters was nearly finished; only the interior fittings remained—the “soft furnishing,” as the boss called it.

…

Meanwhile, in the wizard’s tower at Giles Academy.

Click!

The count inserted the final U-shaped plate into a strange mechanical device, then nodded at Bourne.

Bourne, solemn-faced, made a slight gesture, and a wooden box appeared in his hand—the same box that once housed the water elemental core.

He opened it and removed the core, which began to tremble in his palm as if sensing something.

Undeterred, Bourne strode to the device and gently set the core in its receptacle.

The moment it was placed, a whirring mechanical sound filled the air as the core slid into the mechanism. The surface of the device shimmered blue, illuminated by the glow of countless tiny magic circles.

Bourne’s heart raced. Though he had assisted, bit by bit, in the development of this second-generation magical storage device, witnessing it fully assembled and activated still felt miraculous.

The count then raised protective wards and began testing each function in turn. In the end, no issues arose.

Only the final step remained: connecting the device to the arcane array in the Arcanum Gardens for a full test.

Bourne finally allowed himself a breath of relief. More than two months of study and research had borne rich fruit—especially in the field of alchemy, where his knowledge had soared to eighty-eight!

Even without a magical array, the device could now autonomously gather and store elemental energy from its surroundings.

Bourne nodded in satisfaction. Had he attempted this alone, such an achievement would have required ten generations of upgrades at least. But with the count’s help, their creation exuded a distinctly futuristic magical aura.

However, the device’s immense energy output meant it couldn’t be stored in Bourne’s spatial pocket, nor could it be transferred by spatial magic. For now, he had no choice but to leave it with his grandfather, until the alchemical workshop and its magical inscriptions were complete and the power core could be installed.

While they had been cloistered away, many outside had been eagerly searching for them.

Thanks to the count’s privileges, Bourne exited the wizard’s tower swiftly. Only then, checking the time on his chip, did he realize that more than two months had passed.

He made his way straight to the new address of the Lehmann Company. From a distance, he could already see the magnificent domed building, and his mind was set at ease.

He had designed it based on memories of stadiums from his previous life—his plan was to make the headquarters a distinctive landmark for the city.

Once potion production began, the area would instantly become a bustling commercial district. Most of the surrounding properties had already been bought or leased by Bourne—ripe for the taking.

When Lehmann saw Bourne, he was so overcome with emotion that he nearly burst into tears. “Boss, you’ve finally appeared!”

He poured out his frustrations, and only then did Bourne learn that the construction of the alchemy workshop had already drawn the attention of the noble houses. He couldn’t help but marvel at their keen instincts.

…