Alaric opened the book with curiosity, flipping through the pages slowly.
His posture straightened as he absorbed the intricate drawings and detailed diagrams.
Each page revealed a depth of thought and craftsmanship that left him visibly impressed.
He glanced at Torvald, then back at Aaron.
"This is a remarkable book," he said, his voice tinged with awe.
"I can already imagine how many craftsmen would fight to get their hands on it. But Aaron, why bring it to me?"
Aaron responded without hesitation, his tone calm but firm.
"Lord Alaric, Mr. Torvald is a genius. But his brilliance has drawn unwanted attention. There are people who covet his work, not for progress, but for power."
He paused, then continued,
"Torvald has chosen to entrust this book to you, in exchange for your protection. He seeks safety, not recognition."
Before Lord Alaric could speak, Alice leaned closer to the book, her eyes wide with curiosity.
The detailed diagrams and step-by-step instructions captivated her.
She murmured to herself,
"If this book is used properly, it could give our territory a huge advantage."
Alaric raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"Oh? Alice, what kind of advantage do you see?"
Alice thought for a moment, then replied confidently,
"Father, it’s simple. Every territory needs skilled craftsmen to grow. But we barely have enough in our city. If we use this book to train new craftsmen, we could produce dozens, maybe hundreds. It would change everything."
Alaric’s expression shifted to one of deep understanding.
He looked again at Torvald, the quiet young man in his twenties, and felt a flicker of disbelief.
Could someone so young have created something so powerful?
Before he could speak, Aaron leaned forward.
"Lord Alaric, I believe I have a way to maximize the value of this book, and the profits it could bring."
He paused, then added,
"Mr. Torvald is the first person willing to settle in Green Fort with me. I’d like to offer this idea in exchange for your protection over him."
Alaric leaned back, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, eyes fixed on Aaron.
He had known the young man for less than a day, yet the idea he’d just heard was nothing short of mind-blowing.
As for Torvald, Alaric still felt conflicted.
Yes, the book was priceless, but the man who wrote it had already handed over his work.
What more could he offer?
Still, Alaric spoke with measured grace.
"Alright, Aaron. You have my word. If your idea proves applicable, I’ll not only offer protection to Mr. Torvald, I’ll reward you both with 200 gold coins."
Aaron nodded calmly, though inside, his heart burned with quiet contempt.
Even a fool could see this book was worth over 1000 gold coins.
But he didn’t flinch.
This deal wasn’t about profit, it was about securing a genius.
"Lord Alaric, you know how rare craftsmen are in most territories, right?"
Alaric nodded, his expression thoughtful.
"Then consider this, what if you opened an educational institution? Call it the Training Ground of Craftsmen, or any name you prefer. Charge an admission fee, say, 10 to 20 gold coins per person. Limit enrollment to 100 or 200 students."
"To qualify, applicants must be literate. That ensures they can understand the diagrams and instructions."
"You’ll need to provide basic materials, wood, tools, ink, and hire ten master craftsmen to teach. Each teacher can handle 10 to 20 students. Weekly tests will keep the students engaged, and rewards will motivate them."
"At the end of three months, those who pass can graduate or be recruited into your territory. Those who fail can reapply for another three months, with a re-admission fee of 5 gold coins."
"The initial setup might cost 100 to 200 gold coins, depending on the facilities, lodging, food, bathrooms. But the returns are substantial."
Aaron leaned forward slightly, his voice steady.
"Charge each student 15 gold coins, 10 for admission, 5 for living expenses. With 100 students, that’s 1500 gold coins per session. Subtract 300 for food and 300 for teacher salaries, and you’re left with 900 gold coins profit."
"Multiply that by four sessions a year, and you’re looking at 3600 gold coins annually."
He paused, then added with quiet conviction,
"Yes, there are risks. Will people pay to learn? That’s uncertain. But if it works, Lord Alaric, you won’t just be wealthy. You’ll be the most respected figure in the Verdia Kingdom."
Alaric, Alice, and Torvald each stood in silence, their thoughts diverging like paths in a forest. Chapters fırst released on novelꜰire.net
His territories were vast, yet they barely yielded more than 10,000 coins annually, most of which vanished into upkeep, leaving him with a modest 1,000 to 2,000 coins per month.
But Aaron’s idea... it was more than a proposal.
It was a new direction.
If it worked, he wouldn’t just be wealthier, he’d be respected, perhaps even revered across the Verdia Kingdom.
Alice, meanwhile, was amazed.
Her own ideas suddenly felt small in comparison.
Aaron’s plan wasn’t just clever, it was visionary, a blueprint for transformation.
She looked at him with newfound admiration, her mind already racing with possibilities.
Torvald was speechless.
For the first time, he saw Aaron not just as a leader, but as someone whose thoughts operated on an entirely different level.
Yes, his book had been handed over.
Yes, it was now part of a larger plan.
But instead of feeling regret, he felt pride.
His work would become the foundation for countless future craftsmen.
And Aaron had given it purpose.
Alaric burst into laughter, his voice echoing through the study.
"Aaron, your plan is indeed brilliant. I’m satisfied with it."
Then, turning toward the door, he called out,
"Grandpa Moria, please reward both our guests with 300 gold coins each."
From behind the gate, a figure emerged, quiet and sudden.
"Okay, Master," he said, his voice calm and composed.
With that, he vanished down the corridor.
Aaron and Torvald exchanged glances, both stunned.
There was confusion in their eyes, and a trace of unease.
Who was this man who appeared so silently, yet held such authority?
Alice chuckled softly, clearly amused.
"Grandpa Moria loves playing pranks on me. He’s usually hidden somewhere, watching."
Her words eased the tension slightly, but the mystery lingered.