It was pointless to continue ruminating over Eterna's lack of personnel.
Even a king must know when strategic thought becomes needless worry.
To clear my mind, I chose to inspect the construction sites myself.
Geld was currently leading the massive project: erecting a new capital atop the ruins of the former Beast Kingdom Eurazania.
The work was progressing smoothly—more smoothly than even Solarys, Sovereign of Wisdom, had projected.
The foundations had already been laid.
We carved through earth and stone until we reached solid bedrock, then anchored colossal slabs of magically reinforced high-strength concrete. Layered steel cores and rebar lattices connected each piece into an unbreakable skeleton.
But the true marvel was the stone.
Stones infused with raw mana—denser than iron, harder than steel, singing with a subtle magical pulse. These materials radiated a unique wavelength that naturally repelled lesser spells.
A perfect defense.
And a perfect prison for any traitor foolish enough to try spellcasting within its walls.
The only inconvenience: such stones couldn't be magically lightened during transport.
But the advantages outweighed that several times over.
By the time this titan of a fortress-city was completed, it would withstand outside invasion, nullify most internal magic, and stand as an eternal symbol of Eterna's prosperity.
We had even forged a new type of magic rock—hundreds of times harder than ordinary reinforced concrete. After polishing one such stone, a towering pillar was erected at the center of the site. Anchored deep into the bedrock, the pillar stretched upward so far that it nearly scraped the clouds. It would serve as the colossal spine for the outer walls and the future citadel.
The scale… was staggering.
Dozens of crews swarmed below like purposeful ants, carrying stones the size of small houses. Even from a distance, their organized chaos was mesmerizing. The sight was overwhelming—but also proof of the magnitude of the future capital.
"Ah! Atem-sama—we welcome your presence!"
Geld came rushing toward me, broad grin stretching across his face.
Though I had used Teleport through Spatial Dominion to avoid disrupting anyone, he still sensed me.
Of course he did. His instincts were honed through hardship and loyalty.
"Geld," I greeted, voice steady and kingly. "It's been a while. Your progress here is exceptional."
"Hahaha! Hearing Atem-sama's praise will light a fire in everyone's hearts!"
Geld's booming laughter echoed across the site, uplifting even the tired workers.
His morale was genuine—and it relieved me. A commander who still laughs in hardship is one who has things under control.
The site's lively atmosphere made the air feel lighter.
"No—your work truly exceeds expectations," I said. "Will construction be finished soon?"
"Yes. Thanks to everyone's determination and cooperation."
He explained that after our previous conversation, he took the initiative to speak openly with the captured majins. He listened—truly listened—to their grief, their complaints, their fears.
A king can force obedience.
But a leader earns loyalty.
Geld chose the latter.
"They were terrified about their future," he admitted. "Some of them believed Atem-sama would execute them for their past actions."
"…Execute them? Why would I do that?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course you wouldn't," Geld said. "But they did not yet know Atem-sama's character. They feared judgment before knowing your justice."
He continued—describing how he told them the story of our duel, the fall of the Orc Lord, and how the orcs found salvation under my rule.
Even though the majins had high orcs right in front of them as proof, they were still unsure. Those who had witnessed the events firsthand backed up Geld's story, gradually easing doubts.
"Some of them mocked Atem-sama as naïve,"
Geld chuckled. "So I asked them: 'Are you planning to rebel against a king even I cannot defeat?' That shut them up."
If Shion or Diablo had been present, a few heads would have rolled.
Geld, however—was gentle.
Strong, resolute, but gentle.
With patience, meals, and weekly gatherings, he gradually won their hearts.
The majins—once captives—were now working with passion and pride. They felt needed, valued. Their desire to prove themselves burned brightly.
This approach was far more effective than chains or threats. We solved our manpower shortage while increasing efficiency.
Construction was advancing far faster than even Eterna's most optimistic forecasts—and I could confirm that personally.
Compared to my old world, this pace was absurd. Impossible.
But seeing it with my own eyes, the doubts vanished.
These majins were not bound by human limitations.
Some carried multiple tons of stone on their backs.
Some crushed boulders effortlessly.
Some flew through the air, making high-altitude labor trivial.
No wonder their speed was unmatched.
I nodded in approval—serious, regal, and deeply satisfied.
There were construction projects in several other locations as well.
In war, dividing forces across multiple fronts would be reckless—inviting collapse and disaster.
But construction was not war.
It was strategy, discipline, and coordination. A grand design unfolding across an empire.
And under my rule, Eterna would master it.
Each zone operated in phases, synchronized to maximize efficiency. It was also the perfect training field for our engineers and commanders.
Thus, I assigned field officers to each location, granting them full authority to exercise judgment as leaders.
Four major sites—all crucial to Eterna's future—were under development:
Dwargon.
Ingracia.
Eurazania.
Sarion.
The outskirts of Dwargon had already been connected by a high-speed highway, lined with prosperous inns. The current mission: widen the road and prepare the groundwork for the magitrain tracks.
Adventurers from every nation flocked to join the labor force—drawn by good wages and the prestige of working on a royal project. The site hummed with energy like a festival of stone and steel.
Unlike the Dwargon route, the Ingracia road was already broad and stable.
Here, we could immediately begin laying the magitrain rails.
The workers anticipated finishing far ahead of schedule. Efficiency radiated from the site like sunlight.
Next was the route leading toward Eurazania, where I had just inspected the capital's reconstruction.
Here, the focus was on widening the road while preserving the natural landscape. Wood harvested from the clearing was immediately transported to Eterna's emerging royal capital—fueling its rapid growth.
Logistics teams worked tirelessly, optimizing the supply flow so materials reached the city with relentless speed.
The most challenging operation was the road to Sarion.
We began by cutting through dense forests, but progress was slow.
Even our elite high orcs—who could carry tons of stone and devour debris through their Stomach skill—struggled against the sheer magnitude of the terrain.
They were the best workers in Eterna, yet here even they met resistance.
Their problem was manpower. Clearing the forest was only the first step—transporting the fallen timber required numbers the Sarion team did not yet have. Only once the Eurazania project finished and the two crews combined would the workload become manageable.
The plan remained clear:
Traverse the forest
Widen and prepare the road
Pave it
Only after that—drill tunnels and lay magitrain tracks
This was the reality of our four fronts.
Some voiced opposition to extending the magitrain toward the Armed Nation of Dwargon.
They warned that the Eastern Empire's intentions were unpredictable, and the tracks could become a liability.
What if the Empire stole a magitrain?
What if they reversed it and used it for an invasion?
What if they sabotaged it?
Others suggested building a fortress near the Ameld River—a strategic defensive city.
I considered the proposal.
Then I dismissed it.
A fortress without purpose is a monument to wasted labor.
We did not yet know the Empire's plans.
I refused to bury my people under more work based on fear and speculation. Even with increased manpower from our new citizens, our responsibilities were vast.
But that did not mean we were careless.
We weren't assuming the Empire would remain passive—we simply chose not to live in constant paranoia.
Maintaining perpetual high alert is foolish and exhausting, even for a nation of warriors.
If the Eastern Empire dared strike first…
then I, Atem, King of Eterna, would meet them with overwhelming force.
Not diplomacy.
Not hesitation.
A decisive, crushing victory.
Several of my lieutenants agreed with this direct approach.
If war came, our meticulously constructed tracks and roads would likely be destroyed.
So be it.
Stone can be rebuilt.
Iron can be reforged.
A kingdom does not grow by fearing the future.
This was true for the angels as well.
If the heavens themselves descended to challenge us, we would not flee.
We would not bow.
Whatever comes, we face it head-on.
We rebuild whatever falls.
People matter more than structures.
As long as we protect the craftsmen—the heart of Eterna—everything can rise anew.
With that conviction, our construction projects surged forward at an incredible pace.
Sheer willpower.
Strategic planning.
Relentless unity.
Eterna was growing.
Eterna was rising.
And under my rule, it would become a kingdom unparalleled across every land and sky.