Chapter Nine

After creating a detailed map of the eastern region and preparing the traps, Lark went back to Blackstone Town. Upon arriving, he 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 firmly believed that 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. Those guys were already proficient in archery. Giving them these magic items would not hinder their growth. 

After creating two magic bows, Lark went towards the Eastern Border. 

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

"Call all of the hunters in Gahelpa here. Tell them to bring arrows with them," said Lark. 

Anandra quizzically looked at the Young Master for a moment but eventually nodded. "As you wish."

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

"Most of you have joined the army, correct?" said Lark. 

"Yes." Several men nodded. 

Unlike the spearmen, Lark specifically asked these hunters to continue practicing with their bows. They have not yet received training in archery since they came to this town, mainly due to the previous friction between them and the locals. 

"Valak." Lark looked at the hunter with bushy, brown beard. "Try this bow."

Valak stared at the bow upon receiving it. Unlike the usual bows made of yew, this one was clearly made of metal, probably 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 as he cast a curious gaze at the Young Master. He tapped the string once then pulled out an arrow from the quiver. 

To his surprise, the moment he nock the arrow, the runes on the bow's body dimly glowed. Valak almost let go of his grip when a peculiar sensation flowed through his limbs. He felt something inside him was being sucked by the bow. 

"Don't let go," said Lark. "Shoot."

Although still bewildered by what was happening, Valak pulled the bowstring and released the arrow. A loud whizzing sound resounded. To everyone's surprise, the arrow shattered a large portion of the bark upon impact and pierced through the tree, eventually lodging itself into the wooden cabin behind it. 

The absurd firepower of that single shot made the hunters' jaws drop in wonder. They all looked at Valak as though he was some kind of monster. 

"H-Hey, Valak!"

"What the hell's that?!"

"You could kill the damn basilisk with that shot!"

Even Valak was baffled by what transpired. He looked at the bow with his jaws slacked, both of his eyes opened 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 eventually broke the silence. "Made… You made this?"

Lark nodded. "That's right." He showed the other bow he was carrying. "Right now, there's only two of them. There's eighteen of you. I'll probably be able to give everyone their own magic bow before the week ends."

The hunters fell into stupor upon hearing this. 

The Young Master was going to give each of them such weapon? Somehow, they understood that they would probably use it against the supposedly invading beastmen, but the idea of wielding such powerful bows greatly enticed them. To hunters like them, such weapon was no less than a treasure. 

Even Valak, the boldest one in the group, found it hard to believe. 

"Before that." Lark looked at the tree the arrow struck. The gaping hole on its bark clearly showed the power the behind that strike. "You need to control the amount of power in your strikes. Try shooting at that tree again."

Valak once again shot an arrow. This time, the strike was not as fierce as before. The piercing power was still greater than normal, but it did not manage to completely pierce through the tree's bark. 

"As I thought." Lark sighed. "You've consumed a large amount of your mana with that first strike."

Lark carefully explained to the hunters the basics of the magic bow. 

Just like the name implied, it was an item that 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 tension far greater than normal. Some of the mana would also flow through the twisted rawhide, eventually giving the arrow an absurd piercing power. 

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. Even upon receiving this item, they would not easily betray him. 

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

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

Although arduous, Lark diligently explained to them how to control the amount of mana channeled through the bow. They did not really need the absurd piercing power shown by Valak during his first strike. They only need enough power to pierce through their enemies' armor. 

***

[Lion City – Merchants Guild]

Big Mona kicked the slave in front of him. The woman accidentally spilled the wine on his gaudy clothes moments ago. An unforgivable sin punishable by death. "Damn slave! Do you know how expensive this dress is? Even if you worked all your life, you won't be able to pay for it!"

Another kick struck the woman at the abdomen, making her puke out the stale bread she ate for breakfast. 

"M-Master! Please forgive me!"

But Big Mona did not stop. 

He grabbed a hemp rope and started whipping the woman, creating numerous cuts on her body. By the time Big Mona was finally satisfied beating her up, the woman was already 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'll ask the servants to clear the body later. 

A servant knocked on the door twice. "Big Mona, Sir. There's a letter and a 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 using a napkin, unfolded the letter, and read the contents. 

As he read through the letter, his brows creased and his face twisted. He almost had 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 shivered. He prayed to the Gods that the mood of the merchant would not 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's time?!"

If not for the current prosperous trade of Kalrane Stones, Big Mona would have immediately sent his men to kill the arrogant bastard. He did not like the tone of the letter at all. It was condescending and outright rude, especially to him who held so much authority in Lion City. 

In the letter, Lark Marcus recounted the story of how lizardmen invaded his town and tried killing his men. The young noble supposedly captured some of the lizardmen who infiltrated his territory and made them spill out 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 of the Kingdom. 

Big Mona did not believe this story. According to his intelligence network, Alexander successfully defended the Valley of Witches a month ago, even going 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 perfect for the job of commander than him. That man was a genius. He would not be defeated by the beastmen so easily despite the difference in numbers between the two armies. 

Aside from the request for reinforcements, what angered Big Mona the most was the request of the brat to directly inform the Royal Family about the upcoming war with the beastmen. He wanted Big Mona, one of the three most prominent figures in the Lion City, 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 enough gal to ask such thing made Big Mona quiver in anger. 

Big Mona grabbed the bottle of wine next to him and half-emptied it. He burped, wiped his lips using a napkin then sighed. He breathed in and breathed out. 

"Calm down," he said. "There's no need to get worked up with just some 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 that it'll 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. Also, I've added the formula on how to brew the mixture. Take it as a token of my appreciation. 

I expect the army within a week's time. 

-Lark Marcus

Big Mona snorted. 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 opened it and found a small vial inside. He opened it and sniffed its contents. 

"This is his gift, huh? A low-grade healing potion." Big Mona smirked. "To think that he believes this is enough for me to go to the trouble of recruiting a thousand soldiers in the Lion City and even persuade the Royal Family to mobilize the Army. Naïve. Truly naïve."

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, made the half-dead woman drink the potion. 

An unexpected phenomenon occurred. 

"W-What?" Big Mona shuddered. 

The wounds of the half-dead servant started healing at a considerable rate noticeable by naked eyes. After a few minutes, the wounds fully closed and the color of her skin was back to normal. Although she was still unconscious, her breathing had stabilized somewhat. 

"T-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 after, a panting herbalist came inside. Big Mona handed him the recipe given by Lark. "Brew this thing exactly as instructed in this letter! Now!"

The herbalist immediately worked on the task. After impatiently waiting for two hours, Big Mona finally received the product. He went down to the underground jail beneath the Merchants Guild and asked the guards to take out some of the half-dead slaves inside. 

"Make them drink this."

The results were the same as before. The wounds on the bodies of the slaves healed at a very fast rate. The rate of healing was absurd that it was noticeable by human eyes. 

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 even better. 

And he suddenly got his hands on the recipe. 

Big Mona remembered the words written on 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 gifted to him was the so-called low-grade healing potions. If this was already this potent, then how much more would the middle-grade ones be?

Big Mona now understood why Lark Marcus was so arrogant in his letter. 

He knew that 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 entire Kingdom would not be far off in the future once he got hold of this product. 

Big Mona stood there, contemplating. 

There was only one answer to this. 

"Prepare the carts," he said to the servants. "I'm going to the Castle."

Even if he had to pull out a thousand gold coins, Big Mona decided to persuade the City Lord to send several soldiers to that desolated town.