Chapter 21: The Temporal Anomaly and the Grand Convoy

The only sound in the newly established administrative Headquarters was the rapid, rhythmic scratching of a reed pen.

Takuya sat at the heavy oak table, a piece of hardened bread in his left hand and his pen in his right. He took a bite, chewed mechanically, and continued to audit the Syndicate’s financial ledger. He was cross-referencing the daily wage payouts against the remaining silver from their emergency fund.

“The Japanese corporate executive is fully back in action, I see,” a voice chuckled from the doorway.

Takuya looked up to see Inori leaning against the frame, his face smudged with soot. Takuya smiled, swallowing the dry bread. “Old habits are hard to rub off, Inori. If I don’t balance the expenditure of the Plaster of Paris against the labor hours, we run out of capital before the wall is finished. Though, progress is excellent. We are at thirty-five percent completion. In two and a half days, Dian Village will be entirely enclosed.”

“Good,” Inori said, walking into the room. He closed the door behind him and locked it. “Because I brought something that requires a secure perimeter.”

Takuya raised an eyebrow as Inori reached into his tunic and placed a small, unassuming wooden box onto the ledger.

“What is this compound?” Takuya asked, noting his brother’s manic, suppressed excitement.

Inori slowly opened the lid. Inside rested a pile of dark, granular powder. He looked at Takuya and smiled. “Gunpowder.”

Takuya’s eyes widened in profound shock. He stared at the dark grains, his mind instantly running through the geopolitical implications. “You managed to synthesize it? Already?”

“Of course,” Inori said, adjusting his glasses. “We had almost all the basic materials right here. I extracted Saltpeter by boiling the nitrogen-heavy soil from the old stables. Then, it’s just a matter of precise ratios: seventy-five percent Potassium Nitrate, fifteen percent crushed charcoal, and ten percent sulfur.”

Takuya immediately stood up and closed the wooden box, lowering his voice to a harsh whisper. “This needs to be hidden. Immediately.”

“Hide it?” Inori frowned. “Takuya, we can cast a simple iron or bronze tube. If we mount a rudimentary cannon on top of the new Rammed Earth walls, the defense of this village triples. No army in this world could breach it.”

“No,” Takuya stated, his tone absolute. “We lack the specialized blacksmiths to mass-produce firearms or ammunition. If we build a single cannon, we paint a massive target on our backs. A larger force won’t try to siege us; they will send assassins to steal the weapon and reverse-engineer it. We keep this silent. We will only reveal this technology when we absolutely need leverage in a high-stakes negotiation. Until then, you lock this away.”

Inori sighed, realizing the strategic logic. “Fine. The explosive leverage stays in the vault.”

✽✽✽✽✽✽

By early afternoon, the air inside Kaguya’s private research room was thick with the sharp, clinical smell of high-proof alcohol.

To ensure absolute security, Kaguya had commandeered the small room directly behind his own guest quarters at the inn, installing heavy locks on both the inside and outside doors.

He stood over a wooden table, carefully monitoring a row of clay beakers. He was working with the medicinal flora introduced to them days ago by the hunter Lacy—specifically the Blood-fern, known for its rapid clotting properties, and the Bitter-root, an effective local analgesic.

“Maceration is optimal,” Kaguya murmured to himself. He poured Inori’s highly concentrated, distilled ethanol over the crushed leaves of the Blood-fern. The alcohol acted as a powerful solvent, breaking down the plant’s cellular walls to extract the active alkaloids. He then poured the dark green tincture through a rudimentary centrifuge filter he had fashioned from unglazed clay, leaving a purified, highly potent medical extract.

A timid knock on the door connecting to his guest room broke his concentration.

Kaguya thoroughly washed his hands in a basin of boiled water before unlocking and opening the door. Standing nervously in his room were three young women from the village.

“Who are you, and why are you interrupting my extraction process?” Kaguya asked coldly.

The tallest of the three stepped forward, bowing slightly. “Forgive us, Master Healer. I am Rinda. These are Sania and Nelisa. We… we came to ask if we could be your apprentices.”

Kaguya’s eyes narrowed. “I already have Leo.”

“Leo is working himself to death, sir,” Sania spoke up quietly. “He is running the Apothecary in Barn Five from dawn until dusk, managing twenty workers. He has no time to assist you with the actual healing.”

Kaguya paused. It was a valid logistical observation. The manufacturing side had completely monopolized his only assistant.

“Medicine is not carrying water or sweeping floors,” Kaguya warned them. “It requires strict protocol, memorization, and absolute precision. Are you literate?”

“We know the basics, sir,” Rinda answered quickly. “We can read standard ledgers and write our names.”

“I will test your aptitude after my research session concludes,” Kaguya said, his tone softening slightly. “Wait downstairs.”

“Thank you, Master Kaguya!” the three girls chimed, bowing before rushing out of the room.

Kaguya closed the door, his mind shifting. The Apothecary was a factory, producing goods for export. But if he was taking on dedicated medical apprentices, he needed a sanitized, controlled environment for patient care. The inn was no longer sufficient.

We need a hospital, Kaguya realized. He had no idea that this single thought would soon revolutionize the entire medical infrastructure of the kingdom.

✽✽✽✽✽✽

The sun was beginning its slow descent over the Zephyr Forest, casting long, dramatic shadows over the massive construction site at the village perimeter.

Takuya stood atop the bamboo scaffolding, wiping dirt from his face. The Rammed Earth wall was rising beautifully. He checked the schematics against the physical progress. They had reached the 45% mark.

The foremen were shouting, pushing the laborers to keep pounding the earth. Takuya could see the exhaustion in their arms, the heavy, dragging steps of the men carrying the gravel. If he let them push through the evening, they would easily hit the fifty percent mark today.

“Halt!” Takuya bellowed from the scaffolding. “Drop your tools! Clean the work area and go home!”

The foremen looked up, surprised, but the laborers immediately slumped in relief. Takuya climbed down. He knew that if he overworked these people to the point of injury, Kaguya would personally end his life.

As Takuya walked back toward the inn, he looked up at the setting sun. He felt an intense, bone-deep exhaustion that didn’t quite match his physical exertion. He mentally calculated the hours they had been awake.

Wait, Takuya thought, stopping in the middle of the dirt road. We woke up at dawn. We worked a full shift, ate midday rations, worked another extended shift, and the sun is only just now touching the horizon.

It suddenly clicked in his analytical mind. This planet did not have a twenty-four-hour rotational cycle. The days here were significantly longer—perhaps twenty-eight or even thirty Earth hours. It was a temporal anomaly that perfectly explained how they were accomplishing such massive industrial output in what felt like a single “day.”

Takuya mentally drafted a physics equation. Tomorrow, he would build a simple gravity pendulum. By measuring the length of the string and timing the period of the swing, utilizing the formula, he could calculate the exact local gravity and map out the true planetary rotation. They needed to standardize their new timekeeping.

✽✽✽✽✽✽

Night finally blanketed the village. Inside the warm, fire-lit dining room of the inn, the three brothers sat around a table, eating hot bowls of venison stew.

“Any breakthroughs with the flora extraction?” Takuya asked before taking a sip of water.

Kaguya shook his head, looking frustrated. “Minimal. The solvent works, but I am bottlenecked by my lack of pure chemical reagents. I need specific biological catalysts to synthesize advanced medicines. The local herbs are insufficient.”

Inori swallowed a bite of meat and adjusted his glasses. “We might need to authorize a dedicated expedition deep into the Zephyr Forest. If we can harvest unknown flora or rare animal fats, I can likely distill the catalysts you need. Besides, I have other projects requiring attention. I perfected the silica glass melt this afternoon.”

Takuya looked at Inori. “You melted the river sand?”

“Added soda ash to lower the melting point,” Inori confirmed casually. “Tomorrow, I will begin experimenting with grinding curved lenses. Kaguya needs a microscope, and frankly, I’d like to make a backup pair of eyeglasses.”

Kaguya raised an eyebrow. “Can you actually grind a microscopic lens by hand?”

Inori scoffed, a rare look of absolute arrogance crossing his face. “Kaguya, please. Before I was pulled into this world, my optical calculations were contracted by the Japan Aerospace Exploration Agency. I designed the primary curvature algorithms for JAXA’s new orbital telescope. NASA was furious they didn’t get the patent. A simple compound microscope is child’s play.”

Before Takuya could comment on Inori’s absurdly classified Earth resume, the heavy wooden doors of the inn were violently forced open.

Kael stood in the doorway, chest heaving, sweat pouring down his face. He looked terrified.

“Forgive the intrusion, Lord Takuya,” Kael gasped, struggling to catch his breath. “The merchant… Balthazar has arrived.”

Takuya sighed, setting his spoon down. “Tell him to secure his cart in the square. I will meet with him tomorrow morning to review the iron ingots.”

“No, my lord, you don’t understand,” Kael said frantically, his eyes wide with panic. “He didn’t bring a cart. He arrived with fifteen enclosed, horse-drawn carriages and twenty heavy cargo wagons. The convoy is stretching half a mile out from the gate.”

The three brothers froze. Takuya stood up slowly.

“Thirty-five vehicles?” Takuya calculated instantly. “That is a logistical impossibility. Even with the human capital I requested, twenty clerks do not require fifteen carriages. What is going on?”

“Silas is holding the vanguard at the unfinished gate,” Kael swallowed hard, delivering the final blow. “Balthazar is not in charge of the convoy, sir. He brought a VIP guest.”

Takuya, Kaguya, and Inori exchanged a sharp, bewildered look.

A VIP guest with an escort of that magnitude? The Duke had come.