"I believe you've already heard, but from this day forth, you will live as citizens of Eastend, governed by Rosemary over there. Well, you won't need to live on the run in hiding anymore, so rest easy."
"We thank you from the bottom of our hearts."
The elder rose from his seat, straightened his posture, and bowed deeply, followed by the other representatives of the residents.
I had fully expected them to embrace in celebration or wear bewildered looks of disbelief, but they were shockingly subdued. Or rather, were they always like this? Come to think of it, aren't their eyes completely dead and unblinking?
"First, regarding our defense. Akegarasu, I'm leaving it to you."
"Lord! Please forgive this foolish and insolent one for interrupting Your words!"
An older man with a shorn buzz cut of chestnut hair cut in on my decision.
"Hm? What is it?"
"We cannot permit weaklings of unknown origin to guard Your person. We shall undertake the defense ourselves!"
"Wha—Weaklings, you say—"
Oboro bristled, moving to stand up, but—
"Silence! You piece of &%#$!!"
The moment the chestnut-haired man exploded with foul profanity, a jet-black humanoid haze materialized, seized Oboro by the scruff of his neck, and slammed his face flat against the table. This has to be the divine protection of the Subjugation Compendium.
"Stop it. They are citizens of Eastend, too. I will not tolerate infighting."
"Yes, sir! Forgive my insolence!"
Bowing his head, he snapped his heels together at attention and straightened his posture.
Just two weeks ago, these people were constantly whining that they didn't want to fight, or that they'd only lose if they did. Leaving that aside, haven't they changed a bit too much in every conceivable way? The look in everyone's eyes is genuinely terrifying. Girimehkala, seriously, what did you do to them these past two weeks?
"My apologies. I may have gone a little overboard in retraining them."
Lucas offered an unnaturally cheery smile, while Felice clutched her head and moaned in distress. "Where have my pure and innocent family members gone?!"
"Seriously, what is wrong with you people?! In the first place, is there even any point in guarding a town crawling with monsters who can pin me down without breaking a sweat?!"
"Not necessarily. I've received reports of your struggles from Nemea. In razor-thin battles over life and death, instinct and tactical intuition forged through real experience are vital. You possess that. Nemea, train them thoroughly until they're fit for practical combat!"
Well, knowing Girimehkala's personality, he'd probably rely on forbidden methods to give them some demonic overhaul. Leaving things in Girimehkala's hands any further is dangerous on every front. For one, he might mass-produce even more fanatics. Though, I can't help feeling it's already a little too late for that.
"By your command! Right away!"
The lion-headed beastfolk, Nemea, bowed, seized Oboro by the back of his collar, and hauled him off. Oboro's subordinates trudged meekly behind him, watching their boss get dragged away like a calf to slaughter.
"Next is funding. We can't do anything without money."
"You make it sound simple, but including the Three Great Powers, the total population comes to around two thousand. Naturally, the upkeep for daily provisions alone will cost a fortune. Do you have any prospects?"
Rose rested her chin on her hand, asking with a serious look.
"Well, yes. Hey, Tao Family. This is a medicine I developed. How much do you think it would sell for?"
I placed a pot filled with a crimson liquid on the table before Linlin Raafan—the dark-skinned girl with black hair bundled into twin buns, whose face had been frozen stiff ever since the scene with Oboro.
"Developed...? What is this, yes?"
"A low-grade potion."
Among the books I acquired in the dungeon for weaklings, countless volumes detailed how to craft this kind of magical tool. On top of not possessing an infinite supply of elixirs, my Panacea can only be applied to myself, the caster. Establishing a method of recovery was essential, so I had been running manufacturing experiments whenever I had spare time.
As a result, a few things came to light.
The raw ingredient for potions is a plant known as turu grass. It grows abundantly throughout this world as a common weed. Furthermore, it possesses the property of absorbing environmental magical power from the air and earth as mana, concentrating it within itself as it grows.
On that front, the concentration of magical power in the soil of this Forest of Deep Magic is extraordinary. There could be any number of reasons for it, but either way, top-quality turu grass can be harvested here in staggering quantities.
Up to high-grade potions, anyone can brew them as long as they follow the procedure, so there's no reason not to make use of it.
"A low-grade potion?"
It would probably be quicker just to show her. Glancing at Linlin, who was knitting her shapely brows, I drew Murasame from my waist, channeled magical power into the blade, and sliced my fingertip to make a small cut. Then, the moment I scooped the crimson liquid—the low-grade potion—from the pot with a ladle and drank it down, the wound sealed up as if time were rewinding.
"..."
Her eyes went wide as she stared fixedly at my freshly healed fingertip. Then, as if a switch had flipped, Linlin drew a knife from her waist, sliced her own finger with a trembling hand, snatched the ladle from me, and downed a scoop in one gulp. Just as with mine, her wound vanished in the blink of an eye.
Instantly, beads of sweat broke out across Linlin's lovely skin.
"Mm-hmm, you're surprised by how sweet it tastes, aren't you? That's right. Potions usually taste like garbage. That's the fixed stereotype that comes with them. But this one is sweet! With this, anyone from finicky gourmets to children who can't stomach foul medicine can drink it without any fuss—"
"Who cares about the taste, yes?!"
Linlin, her eyes now totally bloodshot, glared at the potion and flatly rejected my proudest achievement.
"Is that so...? That was my greatest improvement, though..."
My shoulders slumped in disappointment. Masking that unpalatable taste was the part that took the most work. After all, the books didn't mention a single word about the flavor.
Of course, potions of intermediate grade or higher are effective enough just by pouring them over a wound, but I personally believe that ingesting them yields the best results, making it an essential improvement.
"What is this, yes?!"
Linlin grabbed me by the collar and shook me violently.
A crushing wave of fury and bloodlust descended from Girimehkala above, drawing shrieks of terror from Linlin's subordinates.
It was an intimidating glare laden with the terrifying aura of a towering, long-nosed monster. Inexperienced as they were, it was only natural for them to scream. Linlin, however, didn't care in the slightest. Or rather, she was completely oblivious to her surroundings.
"Calm down a second."
"What is this, yes?! Answer me, yes?!"
With Linlin demanding answers in a frenzy, I quickly raised my right hand to restrain the still-fuming Girimehkala.
"I told you, it's a potion. A special non-bitter one."
At my answer, she let go of my collar, stumbled dizzily back to her seat, and clutched the pot of potion tightly.
"I am asking what a potion is, yes?!"
"Hm? You don't know what a potion is? I see, so they aren't common knowledge."
In that dungeon for weaklings, potions were just trash items you could pick up from treasure chests early on the first floor. There were even rooms with hundreds of them lying around. It had become so second nature to me, but come to think of it, I had never heard of them before stepping into that dungeon either.
"A potion is an item that bestows restorative effects."
At Asta's explanation, the room erupted into instant chaos.
"Well, entirely expected."
"Ain't that the truth."
Asta and Zack nodded in unison, while Rose let out a heavy sigh.
I had assumed they were simply rare and that my past self just hadn't known about them, but it seems they truly didn't exist in this world at all. No wonder everyone was so shocked.
"Silence! You stand before His Excellency!!"
Girimehkala's roar shook the very air, echoing through the chamber and freezing everyone in place—except Asta. Only the surreal slurping of Asta sipping my special black tea cut through the silence.
"So, Linlin, can this potion be sold on the open market?"
"To the public, absolutely not, yes. And I cannot give a concrete price at this stage either, no."
Judging by Linlin's prompt response, she didn't appear to be lying.
"I see. I thought selling potions would be an ideal way to raise funds."
Come to think of it, it's just a trash item that becomes obsolete if you have a recovery mage around. Maybe there isn't that much demand for it after all.
"How much of this potion can you make, yes?"
"Hm? The process for low-grade potions is relatively simple. If we divide the work among about three hundred people... let's see. We could probably produce around five hundred bottles a week, and once they get used to the work, maybe a thousand. However, intermediate and high-grade potions involve slightly more complex steps, so a few dozen bottles a month would be our limit. Mass production is out of the question for now."
"F-Five hundred bottles in a single week...?"
A woman acting as Linlin's aide groaned.
"The Tao Family will handle the sales of that potion, yes!!"
"Huh? But didn't you just say it couldn't be sold on the open market?"
"Lord, she means it cannot be sold on the open market. If word gets out that someone can produce recovery items with such absurd effects, nine times out of ten, nations will go to war to seize them. Would you not agree?"
At Lucas's remark,
"That is exactly right, yes!"
Linlin agreed instantly.
"Nations going to war? This is just a low-grade potion. It barely heals small scratches."
"Even so, that matters! If there are recovery items, you don't need recovery mages. You can save recovery mages exclusively for the critically wounded! The convenience is staggering. It will dramatically alter not just daily life, but the very nature of warfare itself!"
Alice, the young girl in the pointed hat, clenched both fists and passionately made her case.
Transforming daily life and warfare itself, huh? All from a low-grade potion. But it's true that until now, healing was strictly the domain of recovery mages. If an item called a potion replaces that role, it will trigger utter chaos. In particular, greedy fools are bound to come swarming to this land.
In other words, it's unsuitable as our primary industry.
"Linlin, if you can sell the potions effectively, I'll give your family fifteen percent of the cut."
"R-Really, yes?!"
"Yeah, absolutely."
After all, the ingredients are nothing more than the weed turu grass, a splash of alcohol, and water. Water and weeds are free, and for alcohol, we just need to buy cheap booze in bulk from the market. Aside from the labor, the material costs are practically zero. Giving them that much still leaves us with a hefty profit.
"Alice wants in on the potion business too!"
Her face flushed with excitement, Alice leaned over the table, but—
"No, I have something else I need you to do. If I recall, the elves of the Lost Forest have an aptitude for magic, right?"
"Yes, more so than the human race, I believe."
"Then that makes things simple. I want your people to use these to build the city."
I pulled several dozen grimoires from my Item Box.
"G-Grim...oires?"
Alice stood up, drifted toward the table as if sleepwalking, and laid her trembling hands upon them.
"Yeah, those are grimoires related to civil engineering. I gathered only volumes that allow multiple people to form contracts. They're all advanced magic, so they should be more than enough for the job."
Magic is classified into six tiers based on the scale of the miracle it produces: beginner, intermediate, advanced, superior, legendary, and mythological. Incidentally, the Vajra Power, Panacea, Magic Armament, and Divine Eye that I possess were all originally superior-tier non-elemental magic. But after refining and optimizing them with every use, I noticed that "(Modified)" had been tacked onto their names, bumping them up to the mythological tier.
What I handed over today were advanced grimoires, of which I had an absurd surplus. Either way, an incompetent person like me can't form contracts with elemental magic, so holding onto them would just be letting treasures gather dust. I decided to release them for the sake of the urban development project.
"..."
As the young Alice silently stared at the grimoires with gleaming eyes,
"I'd like you to proceed with construction according to the city blueprints I've drawn up. Once the work is successfully completed, I will pay you in cash as a reward. At first, it'll come from potion sales, so I can't offer much, but I plan to gradually increase—"
"I want grimoires..."
"Hm?"
"I want more grimoires! That will be plenty for the reward!"
Standing before me, she shouted with a volume unbefitting a young girl.
"I don't mind that either."
I believe I have some superior-tier grimoires that several hundred people can register with. Handing over a few of those should do the trick. I have tens of thousands of superior-tier grimoires anyway. If a handful of books is all it takes, it's a bargain.
"Yes, yes, yeees!!"
Watching Alice break into a bizarre dance with a wry smile,
"Now then, I'll explain the specifics of the urban development plan. Clean out your ears and listen up."
I began laying out my grand scheme to the room.