Several days later, Viktor arrived by horse-drawn carriage.
At first, Fragha assumed he had come to buy more wheat for resale. Viktor had already made a large profit from the previous deal, so it would not have been strange for him to return with the same purpose.
But this time, the carriage was not empty. It was loaded with belongings, supplies, and several heavy chests that gave a dull sound whenever the wheels hit a stone in the road.
Viktor stepped down from the carriage and looked around the village with wide eyes.
"My goodness," he said, unable to hide his amazement. "It has only been a few days, and you have already started a full construction project."
Fragha walked toward him. "What business brings you here, Viktor?"
Viktor straightened his clothes, then bowed his head with more sincerity than usual.
"To be honest, Lord Fragha, I have decided to join your village."
Fragha studied him quietly. "Join Constantia?"
"Yes." Viktor raised his head. "Your leadership has impressed me. The wheat plan, the way you handled Balan, and now this construction project. I believe this village will grow far beyond what others expect. If you will accept me, I would like to place myself under your command."
Fragha did not answer immediately.
Viktor was a merchant, and merchants rarely moved without calculating profit. But that was not a flaw. A village like Constantia needed people who understood trade, money, and movement. If Viktor wanted to gamble on him, then Fragha had no reason to refuse.
"Fine," Fragha said. "I accept."
Viktor's face brightened. "Thank you, my lord. I will not disappoint you."
"Good. Then I'll give you your first task."
The smile on Viktor's face froze slightly. "Already?"
"You said you wanted to join me."
"That is true, but I did not expect work before tea."
Fragha ignored the complaint. "Buy paper. As much as you can reasonably obtain. I also want you to hire several low-ranking mercenaries."
Viktor blinked. "Paper makes sense. But low-ranking mercenaries?"
Fragha's expression did not change. "Bring them here, and you'll understand their purpose later."
Viktor looked unconvinced, but he did not argue immediately.
Fragha continued, "Also, purchase at least Twenty cheap slaves. Prioritize teenagers or adults who can work. Use your money first. I'll reimburse you later."
Viktor's brows twitched at the sudden addition. He had expected trade goods, perhaps tools or building materials, not a list that included mercenaries and slaves.
"You are asking for quite a strange collection of things, my lord."
"I know."
"And you are not going to explain?"
"Not yet."
Viktor let out a slow breath, then gave a helpless smile. "Very well. If this is another one of your plans, I suppose I should simply follow it before I understand it."
"That would be wise," Fragha said. "And take a man named Erwin with you."
"Erwin?"
"He'll assist you and make sure the purchases match what I need."
Viktor bowed once more. "Understood. I will prepare to leave as soon as possible."
After giving Viktor his orders, Fragha left the area and headed toward the cement worksite.
Hana and Zael were still there, surrounded by sacks of limestone, clay, sand, and several half-finished batches of cement. Zael seemed focused on the work, but Hana looked like her patience had been burned away along with the kiln fuel.
The moment she saw Fragha approaching, her face darkened.
"You," she said, pointing at him before he could even speak. "How long are you planning to torture me with this cement?"
Fragha stopped a few steps away and looked at the smoking kiln behind her.
"You're doing well."
"That was not an answer."
Zael glanced between them, then quietly stepped aside as if he wanted nothing to do with the argument.
Hana crossed her arms, her hair slightly messy from the heat and her cheeks faintly flushed. "First, I was an ice machine. Now I'm a furnace. At this rate, you're going to turn me into some kind of village tool."
Fragha gave her a calm look. "A very important village tool."
"Fragha."
He coughed lightly and looked away.
For the first time that day, the corner of Hana's mouth twitched as if she was fighting the urge to laugh, but her glare returned almost immediately.
"I want proper compensation."
Fragha nodded. "We can discuss that."
"No. We will discuss it."
"You're working through a scroll, aren't you?" I asked. "Doesn't that make things easier for you?"
Hana turned her head toward me with a tired look. "Easier? Yes. But I still have to control it properly."
Before I could answer, Oderick arrived with his usual calm expression, walking as if he had not heard the irritation in her voice at all. "Hana, you should speak more politely to Lord Fragha."
"I don't care," Hana muttered.
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a glass sphere. It fit neatly in her palm, smooth and clear, with faint traces of mana moving inside like mist trapped beneath water.
I looked at it with interest. "What is that?"
Hana stared at me as if I had just asked what fire was. "This? It's a communication tool for magicians. We use mana to activate it."
"A communication tool?"
"Yes. Magicians use it to contact each other from a distance." She turned the glass sphere between her fingers, and the mana inside responded with a faint glow. "It's not something ordinary people can use."
The moment I heard the explanation, I thought of phones from Earth. The function was almost the same, even if the method and appearance were completely different. A tool that allowed people to communicate from far away was valuable in any world.
"In the future," I said, looking at the glass sphere, "I'll make something like that easier for everyone to use. Smaller too."
Zael, who had been standing nearby, immediately nodded. "That sounds like a wonderful idea, my lord."
Hana gave me a flat look. "Yeah, yeah. Good luck with that."
Despite her dry response, her attitude changed the moment mana flowed into the glass sphere. Her eyes brightened, and she turned away with clear excitement, already preparing to contact one of her magician friends.
I watched her walk off with the glass sphere in hand and could only fall silent.