Chapter 77: Commercial Layout

When Phield found Kaor, the man was hiding behind a mud wall, peeking into a room together with two free folk.

Inside came the sounds of a man and a woman.

“Yes, yes—just like that!”

“I swear to the Goddess, you’re so strong.”

“So good! So good!”

“Ah! Ah! Ah!”

The two inside were locked in a wild, entangled battle of passion.

“Goddess above, do not let me fall into the chaotic hell,” Kaor muttered, eyes wide as he traced a prayer over his chest.

“Good heavens… is that really something skinny Tom can do?” the free folk whispered to each other. “Tom is known for his extremely brief bedtime activities.How could he torment a widow like that? Just look at her—it’s unbearable to watch.”

“Of course he can. He took the potion Lord Phield developed, called Vigor Elixir.” Kaor averted his gaze, silently noting the time. “Duration: one hour. Stable and effective. Side effect: temporary weakness.”

Five sets of data had already been recorded in the book.

“Incredible…” The free folk looked utterly tempted—no man would refuse becoming invincible. “The Baron is a genius, a man who wields miracles.”

“Of course. The Baron’s research in that field has reached the pinnacle. I heard from the maids that his bed always carries the scent of women—and not Miss Ashina’s. I bet our lord has a lover somewhere.”

One of the free folk wanted to keep listening, but his eyes flicked behind Kaor. He sucked in a sharp breath and kept signaling frantically with his gaze, forcing a smile as he said aloud, “Our lord isn’t even married yet. How could there be other women? You must be mistaken.”

“Good heavens! If he’s already having this much fun before marriage, what happens after? I’m telling you, our lord even observed goats breeding for an entire day! He’s truly the king among nobles—so many tricks.” Kaor grew more and more excited, completely oblivious to the sweat pouring down the free folk’s foreheads. “I know now—Vigor Elixir must be a gift from the God of Love! The Baron is actually a devotee of the Love God.”

“Kaor.”

Phield smiled faintly as he placed a hand on Kaor’s shoulder.

“Hiss—!”

Kaor inhaled sharply, his eyes rolling back as he fainted on the spot.

…

That afternoon, after being publicly whipped, Kaor stood obediently before Phield and handed over a document.

“One Courtship Vine can produce roughly one thousand six hundred Vigor Elixirs. As for Vital Essence Oil, production depends on the number of glass bottles available, so it isn’t included in the statistics.”

“These are the experiment records. As instructed, we tested five men and have observed them continuously. No side effects have appeared so far.”

“Good.” After reviewing the data carefully, Phield took a sip of red tea. “We need to prepare for the trip to Maple Leaf City as soon as possible. Ready supplies for thirty people—I’ll still lead the team personally. What do you think about pricing?”

“Five silver coins for Vigor Elixir… and three gold coins for Vital Essence Oil,” Kaor said cautiously.

“Do you know why I didn’t whip you to death?” Phield gave a terrifying smile. “Today you gave me inspiration. These are no longer potions—they’re divine medicines, gifts from the God of Love. Never mention Courtship Vine again. This is a Divine gift.”

“Could it be…?”

“Yes. Vigor Elixir—twenty-five silver coins. Vital Essence Oil—fifty gold coins.” Desire for gold gleamed in Phield’s eyes as he licked his lips. “Those who partake receive divine grace—purified meridians, reborn anew! Hahaha!”

Cold sweat streamed down Kaor’s back. He had personally witnessed how the medicine was made.

A magical plant was simply crushed into pulp, mixed with water—more water—and even more water. Then some flour was added and kneaded into pills. No sugar was needed; the Courtship Vine itself was sweet.

And Ashina always brought back piles of that magical plant with ease, growing them in a room on the second floor of the Grand Winery.

“What if… they don’t achieve the expected results? Like being reborn anew?”

Phield imitated a priest of the Holy Light Church, speaking in a tone of disappointed righteousness. “Then they simply weren’t devout enough. They should buy more.”

“Go make more pills. I’ll take them all,” Phield waved a hand. “And stop spreading rumors about me—especially strange ones. What happens inside the castle must never reach the outside world.”

“Yes, my lord.” Kaor limped away.

“Wait.” Phield called him back. “Go to the warehouse and claim a bottle of potion. Also, if the pills sell well, I’ll give you a raise.”

“Thank you for your grace, my lord!” Kaor beamed so widely he nearly snorted.

“This Kaor really has his ear to the ground… making him just a steward might be wasting his talent.” Phield stroked his chin thoughtfully. “A good lord should make full use of every person. Maybe… I should establish an intelligence department.”

He really had guessed that Phield was hiding someone—but it wasn’t a lover. It was Rosalia, who kept sneaking into his room to sleep because, in her words, Phield’s bed was the softest in the entire territory.

“What am I supposed to do with her…”

Once the clutter and rubble inside Starnight Fortress were cleared and enough rooms became usable, that problem would be solved.

“Ah! My lord’s pigeons! This is bad!”

Ashina’s cry rang out from upstairs.

“Hm?”

Phield frowned and hurried up, only to see the door to the magic plant room standing open. A terrible thought immediately crossed his mind: humans never entered that room—but pigeons could easily fly in.

“Sigh… those pigeons cost a fortune, yet they’re barely useful and die off so quickly.”

Resigned, Phield pinched his nose and stepped inside—only to see Ashina walking out, holding a pitch-black bird.

“One of your pigeons accidentally ate a magic plant and turned into this… It’s my fault. I forgot the pigeon the slaves knocked down earlier had already regained the ability to fly.” Ashina looked utterly guilty.

“It’s not your fault. I didn’t expect this either.” Phield squinted at the creature. “But… are you sure that’s a pigeon?”

In Ashina’s hands was a jet-black raven, its feathers gleaming like steel. Even more unsettling, a crimson eye stared from its forehead, radiating a sinister aura.

Damn it—the species changed entirely. That was clearly a crow!

“Could Courtship Vine have side effects?” Phield frowned. If that were true, it would be a disaster.

“It’s not the Courtship Vine. I’ve tested it—completely non-toxic.” Ashina shook her head and explained, “Do you remember the corrupted crocodile we killed during the lumberyard battle? I obtained a purple magical herb from its head.”

“The pigeon must have eaten that herb… and turned into this. There’s no life left in it now.”

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