Lord of Rot

Leech held a copper star, lost in thought.

The copper coin was lighter than a silver coin, engraved with a pattern. Due to the passage of time, circulation, and other issues, even though old coins were periodically recalled nationwide to mint new ones, the variety of copper stars was unavoidable.

By comparison, the Silver Moon had the least variation in type. This was because silver coins were the primary currency circulated by merchants, and their value was the most stable.

The Jinri, however, had the most variety. It wasn’t because there were few things a Jinri could buy, but because the great nobles would rather let their Jinri gather dust and cobwebs in their vaults than spend them.

The variety of Jinri in any old noble family’s vault was a history of Lu Leiyi’s changing kings. Coupled with the many kingdoms that existed before unification, the assortment of Jinri was even more complex. Even kings who were little more than village chiefs could have Gold Coins minted with their own likeness and family crest.

Of course, Leech wasn’t studying the history of Lu Leiyi—the Grand Library at Green Forest Castle could satisfy all his curiosity on that front. He simply couldn’t make up his mind and wanted to use a method universally understood across the cosmos to decide.

Heads or tails.

’Divination. That should be perfectly reasonable and magical, right?’

In the world of science, this would be called superstition. In a world of Magic, it was just common sense, perhaps even containing a directive from a Divine Spirit.

It was just that Leech didn’t particularly believe in directives from gods, even though he himself was a famous ”Divine Favored.”

He pinched the copper star between two fingers, thinking, ’If the pattern side lands up, I’ll take the initiative and attack the Half-Beastmen. If the pattern side is down, I should focus on defense.’

After Prince George committed ”treason” by secretly sending weapons and equipment to the Half-Beastmen, only for Baron Leech to righteously confiscate them, they had no path of retreat left.

Once the war began, his own forces would grow stronger as the dead and wounded were converted into Corpse Ghosts. Meanwhile, the enemy’s numbers would dwindle. With one side growing as the other shrinks, his chances of winning were high.

The only problem was that if he attacked first, he would reveal his hand prematurely. If that triggered an all-out assault from the Half-Beastman army, his only option would be to ride a rocket out of there.

Defending, on the other hand, presented a host of problems: not enough Soldiers, insufficient weapons, and walls that were too low.

’In that case, I’ll drink a vial of Lucky Potion first.’

He took out a vial, pulled the cork, and tilted his head back, downing the liquid.

It tasted a bit sour and astringent. He wondered if it had expired, as it tasted noticeably different from the ones he’d had before. The one thing they had in common was that none of them tasted good.

He waited for a while, but nothing happened.

Leech tossed the copper coin, then slapped his left hand over it on the back of his right.

After waiting a moment, he lifted his hand.

’Defense?’ The pattern was facing down.

With Bonta Market’s low walls, it would be a struggle to fend off Granny Buri in her smelly foot wraps.

Granny Buri was a sharp-tongued old woman from Bonta Market. Though she usually shuffled along, if she heard there was a bargain to be had, she could run faster than a young man.

Leech shook his head, trying to get the image of Granny Buri’s smelly foot wraps out of his mind.

KNOCK KNOCK

A knock came from the door.

”Come in.”

”My Lord, a contingent from Iron Valley has arrived.”

Leech looked surprised. ”So soon?”

He had ordered the weapons some time ago. Calculating the travel time, it was reasonable for them to arrive now if they had moved quickly.

The reason he was surprised by their ”speed” was the Lucky Potion.

’Is the Lucky Potion really that powerful? Impossible. Even if I hadn’t drunk it, the weapon convoy from Iron Valley would have arrived at this exact time. The Lucky Potion only biases choices in my favor when there are multiple options; it can’t just conjure a whole contingent out of thin air.’

’That wouldn’t be a Lucky Potion, it would be a Wish Potion.’

Leech went out to greet them. The one leading the group was one of the twelve young nobles who had sworn fealty to him. His suit of noble’s plate armor, with its exquisite patterns and various jeweled adornments, made him glitter under the sun like a disco ball.

”Good day, my Lord!”

”Good day, Hahn,” Leech said with a nod and a smile. ”You bring me heartening news.”

Hahn beamed. Iron Valley was developing vigorously, but building something from scratch couldn’t be done in half a year, even with enough manpower and a constant influx of capital.

Building houses, repairing roads, clearing land, felling trees, building more houses, repairing more roads... It was an endless cycle.

Everyone played their part, but Hahn’s role in it all was minor. He wasn’t skilled at planning and development, even though that was a necessary ability for someone of the noble class.

He needed war to earn merit, and he believed the others felt the same way. But they were also well aware that war wasn’t something that could happen anytime, anywhere.

This time, the Lord needed weapons transported from Porcupine Territory, and Hahn had barely managed to snatch the opportunity. Only war could bring honor and chances for advancement. Chaos is a ladder.

Leech looked at the weapon convoy that had accompanied him.

A dozen or so horse-drawn carriages.

If he were willing to sell this batch of weapons, it was no exaggeration to say that countless nobles would be willing to spend tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of Jinri to buy them, and they absolutely wouldn’t haggle.

Of course, after they bought them, what would await Leech would certainly be an army at his gates, forcing him to spit out what he had swallowed.

”A total of eight improved Magic Cannons,” Hahn explained to Leech. ”They’re muzzle-loaders.”

Leech looked at the cannons, which had once again changed in appearance. He found they looked less and less like the cannons from his memory. They had shed their heavy design and no longer required a base.

Probably because they used Magic, the cannons looked like trumpets, narrow at the back and wide at the front.

’I can guess the design philosophy behind the Magic Cannons. Because they use Magic, they’ve abandoned physical aiming in favor of magical guidance?’

Leech wouldn’t even be surprised if, one day, the scholars managed to conjure laser cannons out of thin air.

Because all of this was just so magical!

Magic, compared to science, was more idealistic. It was like on Earth, where a cannon needed calculations before its shell could be fired toward a target.

You needed a target before you attacked.

But with Magic, you fired the cannon first and then made the shot hit the enemy. Which direction it was aimed in wasn’t a major issue.

However, until both paths reached their ultimate conclusion, it was impossible to say which was superior, and Leech had seen the final form of neither.

He also didn’t believe it had to be a binary choice—that you had to pick Magic without science, or science without Magic. Since praying to Divine Spirits and using Magic could make the land fertile, and compost could also yield a bountiful harvest, why not combine the two? Even if they could only absorb and verify the tiniest bit from each other, it could bring about immense change.

As long as firewood could be lit and gravity kept his feet on the ground, it proved that whether it was a Magic World or a world of science, the fundamental operating principles were the same.

The world’s rules allowed for everything, so there was naturally no right or wrong.

The shells and gunpowder for the cannons were essential supplies, and they were all very well-preserved.

Most important were the Alchemy Bombs—or rather, Alchemy Hand Grenades would be a more fitting name now, as they had been resized to be fist-sized.

”Small Magic Bombs. They said this weapon is highly unstable—it explodes on impact. They only made a trial batch.”

Leech picked one up casually and noticed a safety cord on the grenade. He pulled it and threw the grenade into the air.

He had to strongly resist the urge to shout, ”Fire in the hole!”

The grenade traced a parabolic arc, fell to the ground, and rolled a few times before stopping.

Silence.

There was no reaction.

A Soldier was about to go take a look.

”Wait!” Leech stopped him.

BOOM!

The grenade exploded with a bang, kicking up smoke and dust.

The power was decent. Leech roughly estimated that if one were strapped to a Knight’s plate armor, while it wouldn’t blow the armor to bits, it would still concuss the person inside and take half their life.

It just needed to be knocked a bit before use, which gave him a strong sense of déjà vu.

Too unstable. They couldn’t be deployed en masse in a war, or they might cause large-scale casualties on their own side.

’Alchemy Materials have never been cheap. Usability is the top priority. He couldn’t waste too much effort on a useless product unless he invested more talent into optimizing it, but Leech didn’t have many scholars under his command.’

Besides these, there were the indispensable firearms—over a hundred of them.

Because they had to supply the Soldiers of Porcupine Territory and Iron Valley first, there weren’t many to spare. But for a defending force, with eight cannons and over a hundred firearms... as long as the enemy didn’t charge with two hundred Transcendents all at once, the fight wasn’t completely unwinnable... right?

From low-end to high-end combat power, the gap in strength was still massive.

He didn’t understand in what way the Lucky Potion had actually made him luckier.

’The disparity in the number of low-level soldiers is manageable, but the gap at the high end is the hardest to close.’

He still had the flower he’d obtained from that corpse. If he used it to create a Corpse Ghost, he could definitely create one above the Transcendent level—a Palace Level one. Three Palace Level Corpse Ghosts against one Palace Level Demon Beastman... even with a large power gap, it wouldn’t be an impossible fight. Unless the opponent was as strong as Prince Hoffman.

Leech even considered writing a letter to call for help, but he dismissed the idea when he remembered he wasn’t very familiar with Prince Hoffman.

He couldn’t afford the price to summon a top-tier expert, especially not a major figure at the Duke level.

Before Leech could even return to his residence, a piece of news reached his ears.

”The Wild Boar Mercenary Corps has begun a forced assault on the city!”

His consciousness shifted to a Corpse Ghost. Leech saw the merchants of a caravan discussing anxiously as shouts and the sounds of battle drifted in from outside.