The Mighty Dragons Are Dead

Chapter 52: The Unceasing Growth of Ambition

Translator: Henyee Translations Editor: Henyee Translations

The “Eye of Magic” was somewhat draining on his Dou Qi, Liszt found that after straining to sustain it, he could only maintain it for five minutes at a time. Otherwise, not only would his Dou Qi fail to keep up, but his eyes would also feel sore and irritated.

However, whenever the Dou Qi inside him was completely drained, a warm breath would emanate from the Crimson Blood Sword strapped to his waist, replenishing his depleted Dou Qi.

The rubies produced by the dragon contained magical powers.

When he focused the “Eye of Magic,” he could see that the rubies shone with a blood-like light, swirling gently as if they were a vortex.

“If I can see the magic in the gemstones, I should also be able to see the magic in the dragon. During this time, I will seize every moment to practice so that I can use the ‘Eye of Magic’ at will.”

Unsheathing the Crimson Blood Sword, Liszt was filled with a spirited determination.

The time for “dragon slaying” was fast approaching.

“Goltai, what do you think the Baron means by digging an underground tunnel here?” Isaiah was counting on his fingers, figuring out how many copper coins to distribute to the serfs later.

Liszt never commandeered serfs for free, he always paid them a certain remuneration. That’s why the serfs were always eager to sign up for all kinds of production and construction.

The drive of interest plus the authority of the Lord were invariably successful.

“To be honest, I’m as clueless as you are,” Goltai said as he puffed on his pipe, looking as if he had no stake in the matter. “Liszt has come of age. He’s no longer the timid youth in Tulip Castle. Often, I cannot fathom what he’s thinking. I have no idea what Fresh Flower Town will turn into.”

“That’s not what you said in your letter. You mentioned that Fresh Flower Town is flourishing.”

“If I hadn’t said that, would you have come? Besides, isn’t Fresh Flower Town flourishing now… at least we have seafood to eat every day, don’t we?”

“I admit, the fishing for seafood was an innovative approach, and the collection of manure was also a significant measure. But what are we doing today? Digging a tunnel underneath the farm, is this meant for storing hay or what?”

Goltai removed his pipe, tapping out the ashes, “Stop complaining, Blair never gripes. That is why with every dinner, Liszt always drinks an extra glass with him.”

“That’s because he’s old now and just wants to find a noble to rely on, to live out his years without worry, no ambition left.”

“You’re not so young yourself.”

“But I hope one day to rejoin the noble ranks. I must strive for my son—he’s too dim-witted and will never marry into nobility.” Isaiah rubbed his head in distress. “I originally came here hoping to find a chance to go to battle. You said that Liszt was full of great ambitions.”

“I’m not certain, but you could talk more with Marcus. That guy used to desire nobility more than anyone, but he quickly pledged his loyalty to Liszt,”

Isaiah narrowed his eyes, “I will.”

Soon it was evening, and time to distribute the wages. Isaiah checked the list, handing out copper coins to each working serf, “Next, Alewa **it.”

“Sir, that’s me, that’s me.” The serf with the unfortunate name, Alewa, rubbed his palms in glee as he received two copper coins from the clerk.

That was enough for eight big chunks of black bread!

But he had no intention of buying bread; his wife had joined Oyster Village and went out to sea daily to catch seafood. Besides delivering their share to the castle, they could enjoy seafood at home. After having seafood abundantly these past days, he felt a surge of strength in his body, and his stamina at night had doubled to a whole six seconds.

His wife praised his vigor, encouraging him to eat more seafood.

He was preparing for a third child, so earning more copper coins now meant sending the child to the smithy as an apprentice later—the Lord Landlord had said that a serf with a skill would be put to good use.

“Praise the Lord Landlord!” After tucking away the copper coin, Alaiwa couldn’t help but pray inwardly. He liked his current landlord for the days were getting better, no worries about going hungry, and he could even save some copper coins, “I just don’t know why Lord Landlord wants to dig holes here?”

He was a serf of the dairy farm, responsible for feeding the cows.

He used to worry and complain to his wife, fearing he might lose his job, maybe Lord Landlord no longer wished to keep cows, otherwise, why would he dig holes in the cow farm.

But his wife scolded him severely: “If you’re not raising cows, you could raise horses; if not horses, you could repair roads; if not roads, you could grow millet. Lord Landlord is a great man, who makes it easy for the elderly, women, and children to work and to eat their fill. Damn it, stop your complaining, you must believe in the Lord Landlord!”

Alaiwa obeyed his wife, so he quickly changed his mind.

He felt that Lord Landlord, no matter where he dug holes, was a great landlord, and what the holes were for didn’t matter—how could the commoners understand the thoughts of a noble lord.

Practicing the Eye of Magic, supervising the construction of the project, had become Liszt’s main task over these past few days.

Over the course of several days, all preparations for the dairy farm had been completed.

The beacon tower was ready, the bunker disguised, the passages walked through multiple times with no obstructions. The smoked grass was harvested and piled on the beacon tower, ready to be ignited at any moment. Young cows were kept not far away for feeding, while Old Hua and Old Black, two aged dairy cows, were tied at the edge of the beacon tower.

Liszt had also made several trips from the Thorn Forest to the bunker, to ensure that after he planted the cordyceps, he could immediately hurry to the bunker.

The bunker had a U-shaped passage linking to another refuge.

If the Formless Dragon did not leave Fresh Flower Town as expected, after feasting on the cows and grass, he would immediately retreat through the U-shaped passage to the refuge, then block the passage.

The refuge had breathing holes connecting to the outside, and many food and drinks were stored.

This would at least ensure his safety.

He dared not be careless when dealing with a dragon.

Walking through the dairy farm, Liszt was inspecting the quality of the construction project for the last time. It wasn’t a big project, so the progress was swift, the quality satisfactory, and everything was built according to his wishes without skimping.

“I am starting to like this world, this era.”

He climbed up the beacon tower, surveying the entire dairy farm: “A word from the landlord, and everyone is busy. Before, I managed a small team of five in the company, and even faced opposition from troublemakers. Here, no one dares to question my words, not even Goltai or Marcus.”

Power, for a man, is an irresistible desire.

A person who has never experienced power may not find it wonderful; but once they have tasted it, the allure becomes addictive and impossible to resist.

The identity of the Baron of Fresh Flower Town was something Liszt could no longer give up.

At the same time, the ambition in his heart was growing continuously; Fresh Flower Town was too small to satisfy his thirst for greater power. Fortunately, it was just ambition, as reason governed his thoughts, rooted in the policy of “accumulate grain widely, build walls high, and proclaim kingship slowly,” he plotted his course.

“Princes and generals have no predestined kin.”