Arc II - Agrarian Revolution

Chapter 8 - Where to Find Resources?

1 Month and 2 Days Since the Summoning

Kamelia just sighed. "I know, but I assumed you had thought it through... or knew some other way, so I didn't ask," she said quietly.

Alan closed his eyes and ran his hands down his face.

'This is exactly why I've always despised absolute monarchies and tyrannies. Everyone fucking assumes you know everything, but nobody gets that you're a human being too, and you can't possibly remember every little thing! Ugh, god...
playing the know-it-all was a terrible idea. Still, thank god this only turned out to be me forgetting about the plows... it could've been way worse.'

He took his hands away from his face and looked at the countess. "Kamelia, I can't keep everything in my head either. So, remind me of absolutely any little detail, even if you think it's completely obvious. Okay?"

Kamelia didn't answer for a few seconds, but then she spoke. "Okay." Her face remained calm, but not entirely, it looked as though she was trying hard not to let any emotion show.

Alan sat up straight.

'Right. Plows, seeds, that means...'

He buried his face in his hands and groaned. "Arrrrgh... let me guess. There are absolutely no spare plows lying around anywhere, even fewer seeds, and probably ZERO horses to spare, right?"

The countess pressed her lips together. "Exactly."

Alan wanted to drop to his knees and scream at the sky.

'What a total shitshow! I finally thought things were actually going to run smoothly, but nope, wishful fucking thinking! Never, NEVER does anything go according to plan! When the hell am I going to learn that implementing complex reforms in real life isn't like prepping a history project for next week's class?!'

"Then I have a suggestion," Kamelia began. "We can make the plows ourselves, for a start. If we can find the materials for them."

Alan looked up. "Speaking of plows... yours are probably... you know, wooden, on wheels, with a single share that tills?"

The countess nodded. "Yes... how did you know?"

"My world had the exact same ones," he muttered.

'Right, so they have classic early medieval plows here. And from what I remember... they are incredibly inefficient. You have to expend a mountain of strength just to till a single miserable row; they get caught on roots and all that... Hmm... what if we upgrade them a bit? Bold move, sure, but... what's the point of building the exact same plows they already have if we can design new, experimental ones? Like... adding iron disks so the grass doesn't wrap around them... lining the moldboard with iron to reduce friction... Honestly, that wouldn't be hard at all for a local blacksmith. Except...'

"Kamelia, what's your iron supply looking like?"

"Not great," she said, crossing her arms. "The iron in the eastern mountains is mined by Baron Utew, and he... claims there is almost no iron left, so he cannot pay his taxes with it. He's lying, of course, but I really don't want to provoke him right now. Besides, the situation with the dwarves is a bit tense over there..."

Alan blinked. "Dwarves? Wait... those are the Southern Mountains. You said the Dwarven Mountains were completely outside the kingdom's borders."

The countess nodded. "Yes, but those mountains are only called the Dwarven Mountains because that is where the largest population of dwarves resides. They actually live in many places. For instance, they have several settlements in the
Southern Mountains."

Alan fell into his thoughts.

'Dwarves, then... and they're nearby... traditionally, they should be excellent blacksmiths...'

"Alan, no," Kamelia interrupted his thoughts.

He startled. "No what?"

"I know what you're thinking. We are not going to the dwarves."

Gothwald blinked. "Why not?"

"Hah, let me tell you why." She raised a hand and started folding down her fingers. "First, it is far." One finger went down. "The mountains are dangerous, and they are teeming with all kinds of beasts." A second finger went down. "The dwarves are hostile toward humans, or at least they don't trust us." A third finger went down. "No one knows exactly where their settlements are, and they are certainly not in my territories. The parts of the Southern Mountains outside of Armenas are split between the duchies of Unotra and Homqui... Do you have any idea what will happen to us if we get caught by someone?"

Alan opened his mouth, then closed it. "Shit... actually, that makes sense... but are there any other options?"

Kamelia lowered her hand. "I don't know... maybe ask the blacksmiths in the capital... though they constantly complain about iron shortages as it is."

"And if we ask them for precious iron and their time for some bizarre project... they might actually riot."

"Exactly," Kamelia said, kicking a pebble.

"Our situation isn't just bad, it's terrible... even going to the dwarves is starting to sound like a viable idea. The county is already in a state of collapse... and if we start wasting vital resources on some untested innovations... the commoners won't stand for it."

Alan blinked.

'Whoa... once she lets her guard down, her strategic analysis is actually pretty impressive.'

He let out a sigh.

'Okay, so the dwarves will have to wait... the most immediate option is... well, that baron with the iron mines... but how the hell do we beg him for iron? Maybe... ugh, my head is spinning! My brain has absolutely zero cognitive bandwidth left after these past few days.'

He looked over at Kamelia. She seemed to have completely zoned out, as if she had suddenly developed a profound interest in the color palette and average height of the grass. There wasn't a single clear thought in her eyes; she was just staring blankly.

"Hey, Kamelia, are you tired?"

She startled slightly at the question. "I... no... it's just..."

"You're tired," Alan stated. "Honestly, so am I. Mental labor is still labor... Let's just rest for a bit, and we'll figure out what to do later, yeah?"

The girl remained silent for a few seconds, cast a sideways glance at Lorgi, and then slowly nodded. "Just for a little while."

Alan smiled. "Awesome. Finally."

Around lunchtime, Alan was wandering near the edge of the village, right next to the forest.

'Perfect. Kamelia knocked out immediately, and Lorgi stayed behind to guard her... and I finally have a free minute to myself. I'll take in the nature, escape all the hustle, and breathe some fresh air... alone at last... bliss.'

Something rustled in the bushes. Alan snapped his head toward the sound. A flash of green darted behind the leaves.

'Ah... a shinnor? Or what is that?'

Soon, a distinctive green feline face peered out from the bushes, staring intently at Alan.

The guy narrowed his eyes.

'Ah, yep, a shinnor. What was his name? Kane? What is he doing out here anyway... actually, I didn't even get a good look at him earlier because I was too busy shitting my pants... what do these green cats actually look like up close?'

He slowly, unhurriedly walked straight toward the shinnor into the forest and crouched down. The beast remained absolutely motionless, simply staring back. He stepped incredibly close to the animal. "Hey, Kane... I don't have any meat,
obviously, but can I at least get a good look at you?"

Naturally, the shinnor did not answer... instead, it arched its back and let out a long, low hiss.

Alan flinched. "Whoa, feisty..." He held up his hands. "Got it, I'm leaving." He stood up and began to turn around, but the hissing only grew louder. The beast began taking slow, deliberate steps forward, baring its razor-sharp teeth.

Alan's heart skipped a beat.

'What... what is it doing? Unless... OH SHIT! THIS ISN'T KANE!'

Too late.

The shinnor made a powerful leap, slamming Alan to the ground, and clamped its teeth directly into his throat. Blood immediately geysered out, and Alan's mouth opened in a silent scream.

The beast continued to tear at Alan's throat. The guy's legs thrashed frantically, trying to escape its grip, and his hands scrambled to push the predator off him, but the shinnor only drove its razor-sharp claws deeper into his chest.

Gothwald's face contorted into a horrific grimace. The blood spurting from his neck completely drenched the grass, his own face, the shinnor's muzzle, and his shirt. For some reason, Alan kept thrashing wildly, which seemed to puzzle the predator, making it clamp down even harder on his windpipe.

Alan wasn't thinking. He was just choking, his mouth agape. He wanted to scream, to call for help, to at least pass out from the sheer physical shock of the pain.

Nothing.

Suddenly, his throat and chest began to knit back together, making Alan thrash even more violently. The shinnor kept clawing and biting at the regenerating flesh, but its strength was slowly beginning to wane.

The whites of Alan's eyes began to bloodshot. Instead of just thrashing, he grabbed the beast's neck and began to choke it with everything he had. Alan's eyes practically bulged out of their sockets from the strain. He bared his teeth, drool pouring in rivers from his mouth, but he lacked the physical strength to crush its windpipe.

The shinnor was wearing out, and Alan capitalized on it. He grabbed its jaws and tried to pry them apart. The beast, its jaw muscles locking up, yielded for a split second, and Alan immediately rolled over, pinning the animal beneath him. His throat and chest were already completely healed.

The shinnor savagely bit Alan's hand, making him howl in agony. He barely managed to drag his arm out of its maw. His fingers were completely shredded, hanging by mere strips of skin, when suddenly the bones began to snap and knit back together with sickening cracks. Alan didn't even notice; like a wild animal, he just rained down fists directly onto the shinnor's skull.

The beast began to squeal piteously like a wounded cat, but Alan didn't hear it. Foaming at the mouth, he just kept landing blow after blow, entirely out of his mind.

The shinnor had long since stopped making any sound. Only now did Alan realize that the beast's head had been reduced to a bloody pulp of meat and fangs. He finally stopped and stood up, but his legs were shaking so violently that he instantly collapsed back onto the grass.

Before them lay a massive pool of blood that stained a large portion of the clearing red, alongside the green, motionless body of the beast with its mangled red head. Alan's hands were completely covered in blood, as were his face, his shirt, and his trousers.

He just sat there, clutching the grass. His body was trembling uncontrollably, and he couldn't catch his breath. He was panting as if he had just surfaced after swimming across an entire lake, staring with wide eyes at what he had done. Or rather, he couldn't even comprehend what was happening yet, or who he even was.

He sat in silence for a few more minutes, and then his eyes widened.

'Fuck... fuck, fuck, FUCK! What was that?! Why am I not dead?! Why did it attack me?! What am I going to tell Kamelia?!'

He scrambled to his feet, looking down at his blood-drenched body.

'Shit, shit, SHIT! If Kamelia sees me like this, there are going to be WAY too
many questions that even I won't be able to explain!'

His eyes darted frantically around the clearing.

'What do I do, what do I do... the corpse! I have to hide the fucking body!'

He quickly approached the shinnor's body, grabbed it by the hind legs, and with no room for disgust, frantically began dragging it away. He dumped the carcass into the bushes, then his eyes locked onto the blood on the grass. He fell to his knees and began scrubbing at it with the sleeve of his trembling arm, only to freeze five seconds later.

'YOU IDIOT! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?'

He scrambled back up, nearly tripping.

'Right... clothes... the clothes... what do I do with them?! I HAVE TO THROW THEM AWAY!'

Alan instantly stripped off his shirt, trousers, and boots, tossing them into the bushes until he was left standing in just his underwear.

'Idiot, part two! The boots are easy to wipe down! And they're valuable!'

He lunged into the bushes, quickly retrieved his blood-stained boots, and pulled them back on.

'Fuck, I'm naked! What the hell am I supposed to do now?! HOW THE FUCK AM I GOING TO EXPLAIN THIS?!'

He looked around in a panic, and suddenly spotted clothes drying on a line in one of the backyards. Without a second thought, he bolted toward them, easily leapt over the fence, paused for a split second, and ripped a shirt and trousers off the line that looked more or less like his old ones. Pale, drenched in sweat, and trembling, Alan hopped back over the fence and frantically, awkwardly pulled the stolen clothes onto himself.

He looked back toward the area where the grass was drenched in blood and rushed over. Operating on pure instinct, Alan began ripping leafy branches from the trees and systematically tossing them over the massive bloodstain, not to cover
it perfectly, but just to keep it hidden from a casual glance for as long as possible.

Suddenly, he realized he felt a suspicious draft from behind. He reached back
and felt his trousers, only to discover a large hole.

'Fuck, of course! IT'S A BEASTMAN VILLAGE! THEIR CLOTHES HAVE TAIL HOLES! FUCKING FANTASTIC!'

He collapsed under a tree from sheer exhaustion and clutched his head.

'What. The. Fuck. Was. That?'

 

Shinnor and human