Through Styrene’s personal connections, he was clear to some extent on the situations of other guilds ruling castles and villages. The town’s representative didn’t leave his position unless there was a serious issue. That was because if you entrusted the administration to the elder or another noble, the expenses on useless aspects were severe. Morata’s expenses in the field of cultural art were great enough that they were unimaginable in the central continent.
“Good. Even Morata has a hole to it. If it’s investing in cultural art, then the waste will be severe and it’ll collapse soon.”
Styrene pulled together the guild’s astronomical funds to increase the number of smithies and develop the related techniques, investing a whopping 780 thousand Gold. He was developing the town tremendously as a city for Blacksmiths. Building a battle guild and even a magic guild, he strove to draw in players.
“There’s no place in the North that has a higher technological development level than Trivan Village. In time, this place will also become as big as Morata and grow in people.”
Styrene and his guild mates simply waited for that day to come. They were so excited that they couldn’t even sleep properly at night. While they were waiting, as culture developed in Morata, people began to enjoy the town. People tired from hunting, sightseeing, adventure, and quests comfortably enjoyed songs, sculptures, drawings, and art.
Culture didn’t even take much money. There were keepers making bunnies act cutely, performers, and even players who displayed their japtem and boasted. Morata’s players were happy.
Ding!
– 35 residents from Trivan Village are moving to Morata.
The complaints of the residents are intense.
The residents came complaining to Styrene.
“Why is our village failing to thrive like Morata, my Lord?”
“There’s nothing for the village children to play with.”
“Even after finishing hard work, I have no enthusiasm for life. I think this town is too desolate.”
The residents were deeply dissatisfied over the lack in culture. Morata’s residents were continuously growing, but Trivan Village’s population of just 3,000 was continuously falling. The loyalty of the town soldiers also fell, and work efficiency didn’t rise, either. As the residents decreased in number, silk production fell and the fields they had cleared with difficulty remained empty; they couldn’t even collect resources from the mine. Following the decline in residents, there were even cases where quests naturally disappeared. Players would come after struggling to finish a quest, but the store owner who was supposed to give them the reward had gone and disappeared. Plunged into a shocking situation, the players asked the residents but the reply was really the last straw.
“The weapon shop mister? He moved to Morata the other day. It won’t be easy to set up a new shop there, but they say it’s a village that people really want to live in. Me? I’m going to Morata soon, too. If you want to fulfil the work that was entrusted to you, go to Morata.”
Ding!
– 23 Trivan Village residents are moving to Morata.
The residents want a religious establishment.
“I want to see Goddess Freya. Thankfully there’s a goddess statue in the village next door, so we will spend the rest of our lives there.”
“How happy must our Morata friends be as they receive the blessing of faith? Going to Morata will bring one closer to the goddess!”
The residents continued to leave. Wanderers visiting the North had been settled in Trivan Village by giving them money and food, but they moved away. As a result, the village’s population was just barely 3,000 and didn’t grow.
Until now, Lords had worried over economy, technology, and military power. They viewed culture with scorn and paid no attention to it. If many Bards visited, they were even treated poorly for being noisy and annoying. What use was a rise in culture! Investing the maintenance fees or construction costs of culture-related facilities in other places was considered far more profitable.
There was no change in that way of thinking in other places in the continent, but Styrene was currently feeling an acute lack of culture. To make matters worse, he even received news of the issue he had worried most about.
“Guild master, they say Morata’s Lord Weed has returned.”
At the guild member’s report, Styrene’s head began to throb painfully.
“You’re saying he returned without going off somewhere and dying?”
“Yes. Apparently he’s making a Statue of Lugh now.”
“Ugh…making another sculpture!”
Styrene shook his head. No matter how he thought of it, there was nothing as reckless as competing with a Sculptor in city development. But even if he were given a fortune, there was no other alternative. There were just no Sculptors as outstanding as Weed in the Versailles Continent; the whole area was impacted every time he made a sculpture. As a neighboring Lord, it was like hell for Styrene.
“But there’s also a recent piece of news.”
“What news?”
“The Lord of Morata’s true identity is Wargod Weed.”
“What?!”
Wargod Weed!
It was such a feared name that it sent shivers down their spines.
Styrene was also a player who had grown up in the Continent of Magic. He had personally experienced the Continent of Magic Weed’s wicked charisma. He killed, stole, and was absolutely ruthless. Like looking at a mountain that could not be climbed, Wargod Weed had filled him with despair.
“Are you saying he’s really Wargod Weed?”
“We can’t be certain, but they say that possibility is sufficient.”
“Did he say it himself?”
“Apparently so.”
“…”
“Several news channels on broadcast are saying there’s an almost 100% possibility that Wargod Weed is Morata’s Lord.”
Styrene was silent for a while.
Wargod Weed’s nature was extremely brutal, and he didn’t condone those who challenged him. He was a figure who would be furious even after razing everything to the ground by the simple fact that there was a territory in Morata’s vicinity.
Styrene had fled the rough wolves in the central continent, but he ended up next to a tiger’s den.
He was about to recall nightmares from the Continent of Magic. However, his guild member said something that was somewhat comforting.
“A rumor isn’t always true. And there are also many opposing opinions.”
“What are they?”
“First of all, he does have quite a few connections to Wargod Weed, like the evidence of the Ice Dragon and his relationship with the Freya Church. However, it’s not certain whether it’s actually him or not.”
“Then…”
“Even if he’s really Wargod Weed, there’s not much he can do. Could he dare to challenge our guild alone?”
They were the welcome words Styrene had been waiting for.
“Right. There’s nothing to fear even if he’s Wargod Weed. And if his profession is really Sculptor, then we could even see it as a blessing and a stroke of luck, right?”
“There’s a chance for us.”
Styrene harbored grand ambitions concerning Morata. He would develop Trivan Village, draft soldiers, and seize Morata by force with his guild members! Styrene Guild had over 600 high-level players settled in the North altogether. If they acquired mercenaries from the central continent, they could field an army of about 2,000.
They were planning to take everything Morata had.
“Even if it’s Weed… this time, it won’t go as he pleases. His record from the Continent of Magic will end here. And if he isn’t Wargod Weed, then it’ll really be over for him.”
“That’s right, guild master!”
“Then hurry and go to Morata to lure in some residents so we can enact the plan.”
“…”