Half a month. That's all it took for my reserve to bleed down by half.
I shut the ledger and rubbed my temples. Salaries weren't the problem; they were barely a scratch compared to what I had spent on animals, tools, seeds, and food. One-time costs, yes—but still heavy enough to make me wonder how quickly I'd end up bankrupt if things didn't change.
Gerreth and Oswin stood on either side of the table, the clerks behind them waiting nervously for orders.
"The wages aren't what's draining us," I said flatly. "It's the start-up costs. We won't have to buy them again, but that doesn't mean we can keep spending like this. Unless the mines give us more, faster, all this is for nothing."
Gerreth gave me his usual steady look, the kind that always seemed to weigh every word I spoke. "The men already dig hard, lad. The rock yields what it yields."
"That's the old way of thinking," I told him. "I don't want the men working harder. I want them working smarter."
The idea had already begun to take shape in my mind—something alive, something sustainable.
That afternoon, I called the miners together. A sea of tired faces stared at me, waiting for bad news. Instead, I gave them something different.
"You've given sweat and blood to this town," I began. "But I don't want you breaking your backs for scraps of silver. I want us to build something better. More ore means more coin. More coin means better food, stronger homes, and most of all—safety in the mines. I won't just ask for your effort. I'll bring someone to help make it possible."
I didn't tell them how. The truth—that I intended to use Natalia's magic—was a secret known only to my cabinet.
I gave them the rest of the half day off. Then, with two knights, Elias, Gerreth, Oswin, and Natalia, I entered the mines. Natalia was wrapped in a white cloth from head to toe, her identity hidden like a pilgrim on the road, people eyes were staring her with interest.
Once we were far enough inside, I gave her a nod. She dropped the veil, her pale face set in concentration, and placed her hands against the ground, listening my voice carefully.
The earth shuddered. Roots burst from the cracks, thick and hungry, crawling through the stone like living drills. The walls split in small, manageable fractures.
Natalia's breath quickened. "They're taking fast… too fast," she muttered.
"Good," I said, crouching beside her. "That's what we want. Don't fight it—guide it. Make the roots shallow at first, so they spread wide before going deep."
She glanced at me, sweat on her brow. "You speak like you've done this before." Her lips pressed into a thin line, but she obeyed, and the roots slowed, spreading into controlled webs.
"In two to four days," she whispered, "these will dry. The stone will crack. Your miners won't need half the effort."
"Exactly what I pictured," I said with a grin. "Now—try supports. Strong stalks. Think of beams, but make them grow."
She gave me a doubtful look but shifted her hands. Thick green stems pushed up from the ground, pressing against the walls and ceiling. Flowers bloomed from them, faintly glowing.
"They'll hold the weight," she said, almost in disbelief at her own work. "And these blossoms… they'll wilt if the air turns foul. A warning."
"An alarm bell made of petals," I said softly. "Perfect."
She actually laughed—a short, surprised sound. "You dream strange things, My lord."
"Leo," I spoke in her ear slowly, "you can call me Leo when only two of us are there."
She tried one last attempt, aiming to grow plants that could search for water veins. The sprouts appeared but withered almost instantly, and her body trembled with the strain.
"Stop," I said quickly, catching her before she collapsed. I pulled the white cloth around her again, hiding her from the others. "That's enough. You've done more than enough."
Her voice was a whisper against my shoulder. "I… I couldn't finish."
"You finished exactly what I needed," I said firmly. "The rest will wait."
She closed her eyes, too tired to argue, and drank from my water pouch.
I rose, turning to Gerreth, Oswin, and Elias.
"This is not just sorcery," I declared. "It is a method. My method. From this day forward, we call it Phytomining—using roots, stalks, and blooms to break stone, support tunnels, and cleanse the air. The miners will gather the seeds when these roots dry, and with Natalia's help, we'll plant them again. The mine will sustain itself."
For a long moment, no one spoke. The torchlight flickered across their faces—Gerreth's hard features softened, Oswin's skepticism cracked, and Elias all but glowed with excitement.
I placed a hand against the damp wall, feeling the faint pulse of life now running through the stone.
"We're not here to waste gold on old habits," I said. "We're here to make the earth itself work for us. That's how we survive. That's how we grow."
And for the first time since I inherited Leonard's burdens, I felt like I wasn't just surviving his life. I was creating my own.
Phytomining wasn't just an idea anymore. It had taken root.