"Master Alaric! Please wait for me!"
A breathless voice echoed through the hallway of the newly constructed stone manor. Alaric paused, turning to see a skinny sixteen-year-old boy sprinting toward him, clutching a stack of papers that threatened to spill everywhere.
This was Lex.
A war orphan from the old Horsin conflicts, Lex had arrived with the first wave of refugees. While Alaric was sorting the settlers based on strength for construction or farming, he had noticed the boy who was unusually good with calculations. Lex had no formal education, yet he could read, write, and perform complex arithmetic. He says he taught himself from the books he read in a library where he worked as a cleaner before coming here.
Alaric had immediately pulled him off the labor line and made him his personal secretary.
"Slow down, Lex," Alaric laughed, steadying the boy. "The papers aren't going anywhere."
"The paperwork is the only thing that runs in this town besides you, sir," Lex wheezed, bending over to catch his breath. He shoved the stack into Alaric’s hands. "The weekly reports. Grain imports, lumber yield, the infirmary log, and the projected treasury balance. You need to review them, Tonight."
Alaric looked at the stack with a grimace. "I was planning to help the stone-masons with the southern bridge foundation."
Alaric took the stack. He could do the paperwork himself but he hated being stuck behind a desk. He preferred physical work like clearing forests, laying foundations, and training with his men. As his magic grew stronger and he could socialise with the settlers more.
"I'll review them tonight," Alaric promised. "You're doing good work, Lex. Reliable as always."
Lex beamed, his chest puffing out with pride. "Thank you, sir!"
That night Alaric rubbed his temples as looked at the census report.
Population: 2,000.
It was a good number. But the breakdown was what worried him.
"Fifty-one percent male, forty-nine percent female," Alaric muttered to himself. "Eight hundred families... the rest are single."
He leaned back in his chair. A town of lonely men and women working ten-hour shifts was a powder keg waiting to blow. That was why he had instituted the Weekend nights. Every week, he drained a portion of the treasury to host a massive dinner in the town square with music, roasted meat, dancing. It forced people to wash the mud off, look at each other, and remember they were human.
It was expensive, but morale was a resource just as vital as iron.
He turned the page to the Economy section.
Thornmere was an enclosed ecosystem. Without established trade routes, Alaric was the primary engine of the economy.
- The Model: Alaric hired the settlers. He paid them wages from the treasury.
- The Circulation: The settlers used those wages to buy goods from the local shops where products were made by them here in Thornmere. The Workers spent that money at the local blacksmiths, taverns, bakeries, and tailors run by the people who didn't work under Alaric.
- People directly under Alaric's payroll:
- Construction: 400 workers building houses, roads, and bridges. For now houses are free but Alaric planned to introduce easy and low interest loans later for people who wanted to settle here and buy house.
- Resource Gathering: 500 workers harvesting stone, marble, limestone, iron, wood, and farming the cleared land.
- Security: 40 Guards.
Of the 1,300 active workers, 940 were directly on Alaric’s payroll. It was a heavy financial burden, but it was working. The surplus resources of extra stone, iron, timber and food were sold to the contracted businessmen from the Larethin territory to pay down the interest on his loans and buy essential grain and resources. It was a delicate balance, but Haven was growing.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
The next afternoon, Alaric visited the training grounds on the outskirts of the town.
"Formation! Shields up! Don't let the beasts break your line!"
The shout came from Hans, the Captain of the Guard. Hans was a retired B-Rank Hunter, a mountain of a man with scars crossing his forearms and a discipline that rivaled the Royal Knights.
Alaric’s guard corps consisted of 40 men, divided into four groups of ten. They rotated shifts: Day, Night, Weekend, and Rest. Their job was to keep law and order and, more importantly, hunt the monsters that plagued the dense forests.
Hans spotted Alaric and saluted sharply. "Master Alaric."
"At ease, Captain," Alaric said, inspecting the line. "Report?"
"We killed three Raged Boars in the southern vicinity this morning," Hans reported, pointing to the massive carcasses being butchered nearby. "Nasty temper on them, but the boys held the line."
"Good work," Alaric nodded.
He had set up a unique incentive system. The monster parts such hides, tusks, meat, and magic cores were sold by Alaric’s administration.
50% of the profit went back to the specific squad that made the kill, on top of their salary.
50% went to the town treasury.
It made the guards eager to train and hunt. They weren't just soldiers but partners in the profit. Some other people might think it's unfair but Alaric thought that it was natural because they were risking their lives to protect the citizens.
Without such incentives , people will lose interest in such high risk low benefit jobs.
"Make sure the meat is inspected and sent to the butcher," Alaric ordered. "And give the squad a bonus for the tusks. They look high quality."
Transport was Alaric’s biggest headache.
Initially, he had relied on ships from Duke Thorne’s territory to bring supplies via the southern sea. But without a proper deep-water port, offloading heavy cargo from the rocky shore was slow and dangerous.
To fix this, Alaric had spent months using his Earth Magic. He had cut a path through the dense forest, hardening the soil, connecting Haven directly to the main highway leading to Larethin from Krons. This road allowed merchants to arrive by carriage in less than a month ,far faster than the sea route.
It had been his lifeline. Until today.
It was the weekend. Music was playing in the town square for the celebratory dinner, but inside Alaric’s office, the mood was funereal.
Lex burst into the room, abandoning all protocol. He didn't knock. He looked pale, trembling.
"Sir! I have bad news!"
Alaric stood up, sensing the urgency. "What is it?"
"A merchant convoy just arrived," Lex stammered. "The caravan master... he told us this is the last delivery. They won't be coming here anymore."
Alaric frowned. "What do you mean? I pay them on time. Why would they stop?"
Lex swallowed hard. "It seems... Duke Larethin is pulling the strings."
Alaric’s eyes narrowed. Larethin.
"The merchant said that the Duke has established a new toll gate on the border of his territory, the only path our road connects to," Lex explained, looking at his notes with shaking hands. "He has imposed a 500% tax on all goods entering or leaving Thornmere."
"500%?" Alaric slammed his fist on the desk. That's an embargo for blockade, not a tax.
"The official reason," Lex continued quietly, "is that the funds are needed to 'protect the road from monsters and bandits' generated by our expansion."
Alaric let out a cold, sharp laugh. It was bullshit. Larethin didn't care about bandits. He was trying to strangle Haven in its crib. He wanted to starve the settlers, bankrupt Alaric, and prove to the Kingdom that a commoner couldn't rule.
"Sabotage," Alaric whispered, looking at the map on his wall. "He’s cutting off our blood supply."
Alaric looked at Lex, his expression hardening from shock.
"Let the merchant go," Alaric said calmly. "And call Hans. We need to have a Council meeting. Immediately."
The peaceful days of building were over before it even started…..