43. Restoring Order
Three days had passed since the King's speech, and the Leyndell Royal Capital had undergone tremendous changes. The most obvious change was the countless people now milling about in the once-silent city. And the faces that had once resembled dry, withered wood gradually began to resemble those of ordinary people.
The sound of conversations could be heard in the once-quiet royal capital.
In a relatively flat, open space that had been cleared, people gathered together, chatting incessantly.
"Is...is that so?" A man near the inner circle, his hair dry as weeds and his eyes sunken, spoke in a whisper, carrying the gravel and uncertainty that comes with prolonged silence.
Next to him, another man, equally haggard, shook his head. "I...I don't know."
"Believe it!" A man clasped his hands together, raising them to his chin in a gesture almost devoutly of prayer. His voice was relatively clear, carrying a burning, unquestionable trust.
"The King's knights will never deceive us! The King guides us in rebuilding our homeland, and the lord knight will surely impart true wisdom!"
And the center of their discussion—Kevin.
Kenvin, wearing a hard hat, exerted his strength secretly, yanking his shovel from the thick, almost sticky mud, bringing up a heavy mass of the mixture. The mortar slowly dripped down the edge of the shovel.
Kevin strained his arm muscles, perfecting his movements, displaying the sticky gray mass on the shovel to everyone around him.
"Ahem!" Kevin coughed softly.
"Watch! The key to mixing this cement is... um... getting the water and this gray powder to blend them thoroughly until it was indistinguishable!" Kevin emphasized, stirring vigorously a few more times. The shovel scraped against the rough sides of the bucket, making a harsh, crunching sound.
"You have to mix it until it's... this uniform, viscous, and... um... plastic! Remember! It can't be as thin as water, nor as dry as loose sand; it has to be just right!" Kevin paused, almost instinctively raising his arm and quickly wiping his smooth forehead with the back of his relatively clean hand. There were no beads of sweat there, but it was merely a natural reaction to mask the pounding anxiety within him.
Kevin's gaze swept across the surrounding faces, struggling to shed their numbness, now illuminated by pure trust and a burning thirst for knowledge. He took a deep breath and, almost summoning his courage, raised his voice and asked, "These are the general steps and conditions... do you understand?"
Once again wiping the nonexistent sweat from his forehead, Kevin gestured toward the crowd, somewhat guiltily, "This is how cement is mixed. Do you understand?"
Almost as soon as his words fell, the crowd erupted in a jumbled but remarkably loud roar, filled with total acceptance and enthusiastic response.
"I understand!"
"I understand, Sir Knight!"
"I understand! Mix the cement! "
The crowd immediately shouted, "I understand."
But from Kevin's perspective, on the chat panel...
[I Don't Want to Be a Hero Anymore]: He's a European young master after all. I think there's already a rift between us.
[Fire Moth Warrior]: Hey! Not many people in our group know how to do this.
[I Don't Want to Be a Hero Anymore]: I know how to do it!
[I Am the Savior]: I told you to let me teach!
[I Don't Want to Be a Hero Anymore]: Just go to your class.
[I Am the Savior]: This world is so dangerous. Shouldn't I be working hard to improve my strength?
[I Don't Want to Be a Hero Anymore]: I think improving your academic qualifications is also important. Learn more about physics.
The afternoon sun lazily streamed through the classroom window, casting geometric patterns of light on the podium. The air was filled with fine chalk dust and the dull atmosphere of "class."
Houraiji Kyuushou listened to the teacher's lecture while reading the messages in the group chat. Seeing Xiling's words, Houraiji Kyuushou waved her fist in frustration, and then was called on by the teacher.
"Kyuushou!"
The teacher's voice instantly pierced the stagnant air in the classroom. All drowsy eyes, with a single swish, fixed their gazes on Houraiji Kyuushou.
On the podium, the teacher adjusted his glasses and glared directly at her: "What do you mean by waving your fist at me?"
Houraiji Kyuushou's body stiffened, and the hand supporting her chin dropped. She blinked, "Teacher, you misunderstood... Just now, it seemed like my arm was a little... well, cramped. It wasn't feeling well, so I just stretched it a little."
Houraiji Kyuushou even gave a token twitch of her wrist, attempting to bolster her credibility.
The teacher, clearly not entirely convinced, snorted coldly, a warning: "Hmph! Next time I see you disrespecting me like this in class, you'll have to stand up! Do you hear me?"
"Okay~" Houraiji Kyuushou trailed off, her voice lazily and unconcerned, slumping back onto the table, as if the previous incident had been a mere gust of insignificant wind.
However, her "indifferent" attitude was like a spark in a haystack.
"Tsk!" A female voice, clearly filled with disgust, rang out, loud enough for those around them to hear.
"Teacher, you're too kind! You should have this chuunibyou kid standing outside as punishment! It wouldn't bother others."
"Who said it wasn't?" someone nearby immediately chimed in, their tone filled with disdain.
"She keeps blabbering on all the time, talking about 'savior' and 'mission'. It's so annoying. It's so uncomfortable to be in the same classroom with someone like that. It feels like the air has become strange."
"Hey, don't talk so loudly..." a slightly timid voice tried to stop them, a hint of worry in their voice. "What if that guy hears?"
"Hear?"
The girl who had initially mocked Houraiji Kyuushou scoffed, her voice rising a fraction, a deliberate challenge.
"If she heard it, she heard it! What else can she do? Use her 'savior power' to kick us out of the classroom?"
After saying this, she waved her hand defiantly, looking as if she completely ignored Houraiji Kyuushou.
These harsh words, like fine ice needles, pierced Houraiji Kyuushou's ears with pinpoint accuracy, but her face remained expressionless—no anger, no grievance, not even a ripple.
She simply returned her gaze to the blackboard, as if the subject of the previous discussion wasn't her at all. The pen in her hand began to twirl nimbly between her fingers, one circle, two circles... the twirling motions carried a strange rhythm.
Just then, a message popped up in the chat group.
[I Don't Want to Be a Hero Anymore]: By the way, Kyuushou, I've hired a teacher for you. Don't tell me they're too strict later.
As her gaze swept over the words, Houraiji Kyuushou's tightly pursed lips curved upward uncontrollably, a faint, yet incredibly clear arc imbued with pure joy and anticipation. That arc, in her previously calm face, brightened with a sudden snap.
The spinning pen in her hand snapped into place as she grasped it firmly.
[I am the Savior]: Don't underestimate me, hero.
...
Kevin sighed as he watched the chat group. Look at him, too.
Kevin's eyes swept around him. The enthusiastic, trusting crowd stared at the cement shovel in his hand, eager for it. The plastic edge of his hard hat scratched his forehead, and his now-rejected clothes were stained with dusty cement powder. He stood alone in the ruins of the Leyndell Royal Capital, like a flustered modern-day foreman thrown into a medieval construction site.
Three days had passed since Xiling ascended the throne, and much had happened in those three days.
First thing.
After declaring himself king, Xiling left three imperial decrees.
First: Reconstruction.
"Find them something to do."
—These were Xiling's exact words.
The target was the Leyndell Royal Capital itself. This once-glorious capital was now largely a crumbling skeleton of broken walls and buildings.
Inside the houses that had fortunately not collapsed completely, only years of accumulated dust remained, like a tomb of time, empty and lifeless.
Cleaning, repairing, rebuilding... Get these people, newly awakened from their torpor, their limbs still stiff, moving, filling their empty bodies and minds with heavy physical labor while restoring the rudiments of their homes.
Kevin, now "Chief Cement Mixing Instructor," was the frontline executor of this imperial order.
The second imperial order: food.
"Their organs are recovering and require nutrition."
This is the harsh reality.
The remaining granaries in the royal city, eroded by the passage of time and the curse of the undead, have long since decayed and become unfit for consumption. Meanwhile, the digestive systems and metabolisms of tens of thousands of newly "revived" people are slowly recovering, and their need for food is urgent. Without a stable food source, the enthusiasm for reconstruction and the revived vitality will quickly wither in the face of hunger.
Finding a new, stable food source is a more urgent survival task than rebuilding.
The Third Imperial Decree: Law, Value and Blessing.
"The Law will observe and respond to your actions."
—This was the declaration of the Silver King Xiling, giving people purpose and motivation.
To receive the "blessing," one must prove one's worth. The most direct way to prove their worth is to participate in reconstruction (the first decree) and ensure survival (the second decree).
Laws are the framework, values are the measure, and blessings are the reward. It clearly tells everyone: stagnation will not be favored by the rule.
This decree, like an invisible beacon, illuminates the path forward and sparks in their eyes the desire to realize their "worth."
Hearing the people's calls, Kevin had no choice but to go.
Even as people in the Lands Between began to slowly recover, many things had been forgotten. Fortunately, perhaps the people in the Lands Between were all geniuses at moving bricks. Before long, they were even better than Kevin.
So, Kevin truly became a mere contractor, responsible for watching over the situation.
…
"Oh, if I had known this would happen, I wouldn't have gotten so carried away..." Xiling slumped in his wheelchair, like a sun-baked, salted fish.
Xiling slumped limply in the wheelchair that Lemuen had once occupied. His face was as pale as a vampire fresh from its grave, and dark circles hung under his eyes, as if he'd been beaten for three days and three nights.
Lemuen pushed the wheelchair, a gloating smile playing at the corner of her mouth:
"It's your fault for not having such a sense of propriety."
"The atmosphere has gotten so high, what can I do?" Xiling waved his hand weakly.
"Definitely increase the intensity!"
"Serves you right!"
Xiling's lips curled up without a trace of a smile, his expression uglier than tears. It truly was what he deserved.
As he transformed the starvation of everyone in the royal city into a state of satiety, his magic power was excessively depleted.
A hero's magic power should be as boundless as the ocean, ever present, naturally growing with his will.
But "creating things out of thin air" was completely different—it was a direct distortion of the laws of reality through willpower, transforming pure energy into something as abstract as "satisfaction"!
Xiling's initial thought was simply to feed these people.
Behind this simple command lay the most brutal and direct rewriting of the laws of reality by the hero's will! The price he paid was... the deficit he was currently experiencing from his magical willpower.
"What a mistake!"
Listening to Xiling's lament, Lemuen smiled and continued pushing the wheelchair.
They were going somewhere to greet an incoming guest, perhaps more than one.
His iron boots tapped the ground, and Radahn looked toward the nearby Leyndell Royal Capital. Behind him, nearly a thousand soldiers of the Redmane Legion followed closely, their steps in perfect alignment, clearly well-trained.
Seeing their general pause, they paused too. Just then, a man approached Radahn's side, his voice tinged with confusion.
"General, what's wrong?"
Radahn stared at the distant outline of the Leyndell Royal Capital, his tone carried a touch of nostalgia:
"The Leyndell Royal Capital...did it ever look like this?"
In Radahn's view, the road leading to the royal capital was lined with endless blooming flowers, red, yellow, purple... It was as if someone had overturned a palette and painted the entire road a rainbow.
Originally, there weren't supposed to be so many flowers here, but because a certain Miss Luo said "bloom," flowers began to bloom all around the royal capital, and a certain king thought it was a good idea.
Radahn's rough fingers brushed against a bright red petal. The stem still held dew, glistening in the sunlight.
Radahn put down the petals and stood up again.
"Keep moving!"
The Redmanes continued their advance toward the royal capital, their iron boots clattering dully on the petal-strewn road.
The soldiers' faces were tense, but their eyes couldn't help but glance at the unusually gorgeous blossoms.
When they arrived at the royal capital gate, a tall figure was already waiting there.
Morgott closed his eyes, as if contemplating something. Soon, heavy footsteps reached his ears, and at the same time, two horns blared from the city walls.
Morgott opened his eyes and saw Radahn in the distance. Their eyes met.
"Long time no see."
Morgott nodded and then said, "Follow me, the king awaits."
Radahn nodded.
Just as the Redmanes entered the city gates, a horn suddenly sounded.
"Woo—"
The deep, powerful horn blast echoed throughout every corner of the royal capital. Then came the syncopated clash of fine steel—the knights of the royal capital lined up on either side, their swords unsheathed, their tips pointed skyward, gleaming in the sunlight. A cold light shone.
This wasn't a battle stance, but a welcoming ceremony.
Radahn's steps paused slightly. Before the Shattering War, whenever they returned victorious, they were greeted with scenes like this.
Memories flooded back like a tide—the cheering crowds, the fluttering flags, and...that figure standing at the highest point.
Things had changed.
Radahn took a deep breath and looked up at the hall at the highest point of the royal city.
There, a silver-white figure stared silently at him.