After creating a detailed map of the Eastern Region and preparing the traps, Lark returned to Blackstone Town and immediately started the next step of the plan. He gathered the remaining iron ingots and using transmutation magic, created bows.

The body of the bow was made of iron, while the strings were made using twisted rawhide. Runes and symbols were engraved on the handle grip, limbs, and string grooves.

Lark still believed it was not yet time to provide magic spears for the foot soldiers, but the same could not be said for the hunters from Gahelpa Village. They were already proficient in archery. Giving them the magic items would leverage their existing talent, not hinder their growth.

After creating two magic bows, Lark went to the eastern border.

“Young Master,” Anandra greeted him the moment he arrived. Not far from them, the soldiers were practicing with their spears under the scorching sun.

“Call all of the hunters from Gahelpa here. Tell them to bring arrows with them,” said Lark.

Anandra looked at him curiously for a moment but eventually nodded. “As you wish.”

Soon, over a dozen men were gathered before Lark, looking at him with expectant eyes. This was, after all, the first time he had summoned so many men from Gahelpa.

“Most of you have joined the army, correct?” said Lark. Several men nodded.

Unlike the spearmen, Lark specifically asked these hunters to continue practicing with their bows. They had not received training in archery since they came to Blackstone Town.

“Valak.” Lark looked at the hunter with bushy brown beard. “Try this bow.”

Valak stared as he took it in hand. Unlike the usual bows made of yew, this was iron. But surprisingly, it was light as though it was made of wood. The string was familiar. It was definitely made of twisted rawhide.

“Try shooting that tree over there.” Lark pointed at a small tree next to a recently finished cabin.

Valak frowned and cast a curious gaze at the young master. He tapped the string once, then pulled an arrow from his quiver.

To his surprise, the moment he nocked the arrow, the runes on the bow glowed dimly. Valak almost let go of his grip when a peculiar sensation flowed through his limbs. Something inside him seemed to be sucked out by the bow.

“Don’t let go,” said Lark. “Shoot.”

Although still bewildered, Valak pulled the bowstring and released the arrow. A loud whiz resounded. To everyone’s surprise, upon impact the arrow shattered a huge piece of bark and pierced completely through the tree, lodging itself into the cabin wall behind it.

The incredible firepower of that single shot made the hunters’ jaws drop in wonder. They all looked at Valak as though he was some kind of freak or aberration.

“Valak!”

“What the hell was that?!”

“You could kill the damn basilisk with that shot!”

Even Valak was baffled by what he had done. He looked at the bow with his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide.

“Did you like it?” Lark’s voice broke through the murmurs. “It’s a magic bow I created.”

The hunters from Gahelpa were stunned speechless. Valak broke the silence. “Made… You made this?”

Lark nodded. “That’s right.” He held out the other bow he was carrying. “Right now, there’s only two of them and eighteen of you, but I’ll probably be able to give everyone their own magic bow before the week ends.”

The hunters were astonished.

The young master was going to give each of them such a weapon? They understood they would need to use them against the invading beastmen, but the idea of wielding such powerful bows confounded them. To hunters like these, a weapon like this was a treasure. It seemed unreal that they would be afforded such a privilege.

Even Valak, the boldest of them, found it hard to believe.

Lark looked at the tree the arrow struck. The gaping hole in its bark indicated the power behind that strike. “But before that, you need to learn to control the power in your strikes. Try shooting at that tree again.”

Valak shot another arrow. This strike was not as fierce as before. The piercing power was still greater than normal, but it did not completely pierce through the tree’s bark.

“As I thought.” Lark sighed. “You used a large amount of your mana with that first strike.”

Lark carefully explained the basics of the magic bow.

Just like the name implied, it would enable even non-magicians to wield mana. The runes at the bow’s grip would suck the mana of the wielder and channel it to the bow’s limbs and string grooves, creating far greater tension than normal. Some of the mana would also flow through the twisted rawhide, giving the arrow an immense power to pierce.

It worked the same way as the magic spears Lark was secretly creating. But since these hunters were already proficient with the bow, he did not hesitate in giving them these items. These men from Gahelpa valued honor highly; they would not betray him.

Giving them these magical items would transform the group into a formidable ally during the upcoming war.

Lark had already made maps of the terrains in the Eastern Region. Properly using this elite unit could be the difference between victory and defeat in the war against the beastmen.

Although arduous, Lark diligently taught them how to control the amount of mana channeled through the bow. They did not really need the extreme piercing power Valak had wielded during his first strike. They only need enough power to penetrate their enemies’ armor.

***

[Lion City—Merchants Guild]

Big Mona kicked the slave in front of him. The woman had accidentally spilled wine on his gaudy clothes. An unforgivable sin punishable by death.

“Damn slave! Do you know how expensive this coat is? Even if you worked all your life, you wouldn’t be able to pay for it!”

Another kick struck the woman in the abdomen; she vomited the stale bread she had eaten for breakfast.

“Master! Please! Forgive me!”

But Big Mona did not stop.

He grabbed a hemp rope and started whipping the woman, slicing cuts all over her body. By the time Big Mona was satisfied with her beating, the woman was sprawled on the ground, half-dead and unmoving.

Big Mona spat on the soon-to-be corpse, sat on the sofa, and grabbed some snacks. He’d ask the servants to clear the body later.

A servant knocked on the door twice. “Big Mona, sir. There’s a letter and parcel for you from Blackstone Town.”

Big Mona’s mouth was still full of biscuits when he replied, sending crumbs flying about. “Come in.”

The servant entered the room and handed him the parchment. Big Mona wiped his hands on a napkin, unfolded the letter, and read the contents.

As he read, his brow creased and his face twisted. He felt the urge to tear the letter into pieces.

“That damn arrogant brat!” snarled Big Mona.

The servant was startled from the sudden shout. He looked at the half-dead slave on the ground, then at the fat merchant. He shuddered and prayed to the gods that the merchant’s mood wouldn’t worsen any further.

“That Lark Marcus! That brat!” Big Mona continued snarling. “He wants me to send a thousand soldiers to that small town within a week?!”

If not for the current profitable trade of kalrane stones, Big Mona would have sent his men to kill the arrogant bastard. He didn’t like the tone of the young noble’s letter at all. It was condescending. It was outright rude, especially to someone who held so much authority in Lion City.

In the letter, Lark Marcus recounted the story of how lizardmen had invaded his town and tried killing his men. The young noble supposedly captured some of the lizardmen and made them tell him everything. According to them, beastmen would soon invade Blackstone Town and convert it into a stronghold, making it the pivotal point of their invasion of the Eastern Region.

Big Mona didn’t believe a word of this story. According to his intelligence network, Alexander had successfully defended the Valley of Witches a month ago, despite having fewer soldiers. The commander had even gone as far as killing Brock, one of the commanders of the Third Legion of the United Grakas Alliance.

As long as Alexander was undefeated, there was no way for the beastmen to invade the kingdom. Big Mona disliked that Mercenary Guild Master, but he knew that there was no man more suited to the position of commander than him. He was a genius. He would not be defeated by the beastmen so easily.

In addition to the plea for reinforcements, what angered Big Mona most was the brat’s request to inform the royal family about the upcoming war with the beastmen. He wanted Big Mona to persuade the king to mobilize the army and preemptively block the advance of the enemies.

A preposterous request.

Although Big Mona was one of the most powerful figures in this city, he still did not have the power to persuade the king or the royal family.

Just thinking that the brat of the Marcus family had the gall to ask such a thing made Big Mona quiver in anger.

The merchant grabbed the bottle of wine next to him and half emptied it in a couple of gulps. He burped, wiped his lips using a napkin, then sighed. He breathed in. He breathed out.

“Calm down,” he told himself. “There’s no need to get worked up about some unimportant brat.”

Big Mona read the last part of the letter.

If you manage to do these things, I will grant you exclusive rights to trade the middle-grade healing potions of Blackstone Town. I firmly believe it could be a pivotal part of your business in the future, probably even more than the kalrane stones.

As a gift, I’ve provided you with a sample of a low-grade healing potion. I’ve also added the formula on how to brew the mixture. Take it as a token of my appreciation.

I expect the army within a week.

-Lark Marcus

Big Mona snorted derisively. What was the brat thinking? He would grant him exclusive rights to trade his so-called middle-grade healing potions?

Laughable.

“Hey,” Big Mona called the servant over. “Give me that.”

The servant, still stiff with fear, handed him the parcel. Big Mona tore off the wrapping and found a small vial inside. He opened it and sniffed the contents.

“This is his gift, huh? A low-grade healing potion.” Big Mona smirked. “He believes this is enough for me to go to the trouble of recruiting a thousand soldiers in Lion City and persuading the royal family to mobilize the army. Naive. Truly naive.” He chuckled.

Big Mona looked at the half-dead slave on the floor. He said to the servant, “You. Make her drink this thing.”

The servant carefully took the vial and, as instructed, poured the potion down the throat of the unconscious woman.

An unexpected thing happened. “What?” Big Mona shuddered.

The wounded servant’s cuts started healing so rapidly, it was noticeable to the naked eye. After a few minutes, the wounds had fully closed and the color of her skin was back to normal.

Although she was still unconscious, her breathing had stabilized somewhat.

“Tell the chief herbalist to come here!” shouted Big Mona “Quick! Make him come here!”

The servant jolted and ran out of the room. Several minutes later, a panting herbalist entered. Big Mona handed him the recipe sent by Lark. “Brew this exactly as instructed in this letter! Now!”

The herbalist worked on the task immediately. Big Mona paced the room impatiently for two hours before being handed the completed product. He took it to the jail beneath the Merchants Guild and asked the guards to bring him some of the injured and weak slaves inside.

“Make them drink this.”

The results were the same. Their wounds healed at an impossibly fast rate. The healing was so rapid the guards could watch it happen.

Big Mona could not help but shudder. The potency of this healing potion was as good as the ones created by the Royal Chief Alchemist in the capital, probably better.

And he had got his hands on the recipe.

Big Mona remembered the words written in the letter: If you manage to do these things, I will grant you exclusive rights to trade the middle-grade healing potions of Blackstone Town.

The words “middle-grade healing potions” kept resonating in his mind. This recipe was apparently the low-grade healing potion. If it was already this potent, how much more would the middle-grade one be?

Big Mona now understood why Lark Marcus was so arrogant in his letter. He had known there was no way for Big Mona to reject his proposal.

The fat merchant could already envision the benefits of monopolizing the trade of this legendary elixir. Becoming the top merchant in the kingdom would not be that far in the future once he got hold of this product.

Big Mona stood there, contemplating. There was only one answer.

“Prepare the carts,” he said to the servants. “I’m going to the castle.”

Even if he had to spend a thousand gold coins, Big Mona decided to persuade the lord to send soldiers to that remote town.