As Viktor moved through the garden toward the manor, his mind churned through logistics.
He'd promised the villagers fair payment for gathering poisonous herbs—yeah, for them it was fair, and by now, they'd likely stockpiled quite a bit.
Using Gareth's carriage was the obvious solution—efficient, practical, and saved time.
But more importantly, he needed labor. Strong backs and willing hands.
For what?
"For a forge," he muttered as he looked directly towards the huge tower appearing from miles away within the mountain ranges, a perfect spot for him.
The Tower loomed in the distance, its glowing purple-pink light visible even in broad daylight. It pulsed like a heartbeat, casting eerie shadows across the countryside.
A place where he could finally put Mira's abilities to work—Forge Master and Craftsman Genius—skills that would allow him to create weapons and armor that could rival anything produced by ducal families.
