Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king - Chapter 271

Chapter 271: There is no two without three(2) Chapter 271: There is no two without three(2) As they walked through the castle grounds, Alpheo couldn’t help but notice the subtle unease in Clio’s demeanor.

His old comrade, normally steady and confident, seemed unusually stiff, his steps slower and his gaze occasionally darting to the ground.

Sensing the awkwardness, Alpheo decided to address it directly.

“Something on your mind, Clio?” Alpheo asked, his voice casual but edged with curiosity.

Clio hesitated before answering, his tone measured.

“No, everything’s fine.

I just…

can’t help feeling like I haven’t done enough to deserve what you’ve given me.” Alpheo stopped and turned to face him, his expression calm but firm.

“What I’ve given you?” He shook his head “Clio, this isn’t some random gift.

You’ve earned this.

You’ve been the one standing guard over our best assets.You have done a fantastic job…” Clio looked up, meeting Alpheo’s gaze, though his uncertainty lingered.

Alpheo clapped a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“You’re protecting the foundation of everything we’ve built.

Without you here, this whole operation could crumble.

Trust me, there’s no one more deserving.” Though Clio’s posture relaxed slightly, a faint hint of discomfort still flickered in his expression.

Alpheo chuckled and gave him a small nudge.

“Stop overthinking it, old friend.

You’ve more than earned your place.” As they continued their walk through the castle grounds, Alpheo glanced at Clio with a grin.

“So, did you get the chance to catch up with the others yet?

Or have you been too busy lording over this place?” Clio chuckled, his stance loosening a bit.

“I did, actually.

Had a round of drinks with Egil not too long ago.

He made sure I was up to speed on everything that went down during the campaign.

Sounds like it was brutal-hard on everyone.” He hesitated for a moment, then added, “I won’t lie, Alpheo.

I wish I could’ve been there with you all.

Fighting alongside you, like the old days.” He repeated once again Alpheo stopped, turning to face Clio fully.

“Clio,” he began, his voice steady and full of conviction, “you were there, just not on the same front.

While we were dealing with the enemy out there, you were here, protecting me and everything we’ve built from behind the scenes.” He placed a firm hand on Clio’s shoulder, his expression softening.

“Don’t think for a second that what you’ve done here isn’t just as important.

If this place had fallen-or worse, if someone had gotten to the heart of our operation-it wouldn’t have mattered how many victories we won out there.

You’re part of this fight, Clio.

Always have been.” Clio looked down for a moment, his lips pressed into a thin line, before nodding.

“I guess you’re right.” Alpheo gave him a reassuring smile, a warm glint in his eyes.

“I know I am.

And if I haven’t said it enough, I’ll say it now-thank you.

For keeping it all together when I had nobody that could” “It brushes in comparison to what you all did for us,” he said, glancing at Alpheo with a faint smile that didn’t quite mask the depth of his feelings.

“You know, a lot of us talk about it-how you seem to underestimate what you’ve done for us.

It’s almost maddening.” Alpheo raised an eyebrow, curious but silent, letting Clio continue.

“You go on and on about what we do for you,” Clio admitted, his words measured but intense, “but not what you’ve done for us.

You gave us life, Alpheo.

Hope.

You turned us into knights, lords, people with something to live for and for some perhapse protect.

And yet, you act like it was the bare minimum-like anyone would’ve done the same.” Clio’s hands clenched slightly at his sides, his gaze steady but softened with admiration.

“But it wasn’t the bare minimum.

It was everything.

What you did for us-it changed everything.

And no matter how hard we work, no matter what we achieve or give back, it’ll never feel like enough, because every breath we take, every meal we eat, it’s all because of you.

You’re the one who leads the charge, Alpheo.

You’re the one who rides into the thick of it first, headlong into peril.

And yet, you always turn back to thank us for following you-as if it’s us who are doing something extraordinary.

But it’s you.

You set the example, take the risk, and inspire the rest of us to believe we can survive it.” There was a pause, the weight of Clio’s words hanging between them.

His admiration was evident, and his expression reflected an almost familial pride, as if he needed Alpheo to truly understand the role he played in their lives.

Alpheo’s lips curved into a faint, thoughtful smile, and he rested a hand on Clio’s shoulder.

“I’ll think it over,” he said, his tone soft but sincere.

Clio nodded, a small smile breaking through his earlier intensity.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, his tone lighter now.

He motioned toward a path leading to another building.

“Now, are you ready to see the last addition to this place?

The one you specifically asked for?” Alpheo nodded, curiosity sparking in his eyes.

Together, they made their way to the newly constructed warehouse.

As Clio swung the heavy wooden doors open, the cavernous interior came into view.

Inside, the space was arranged meticulously.

There were large wooden vats for soaking and pulping fibers, stone presses for flattening the sheets, and drying racks lining the far walls.

Bundles of raw materials-mostly tree bark -were stacked neatly near one corner, ready for processing.

In another section, tools for cutting, sorting, and refining the paper into uniform sheets lay in orderly rows on workbenches.

The air inside was still and cool, but the building was empty of workers for the moment, as production had not yet started.

Alpheo stepped forward, running his hand over the smooth surface of one of the vats.

The room had a quiet potential about it, waiting for its full purpose to come to life.

Alpheo’s gaze swept over the warehouse, taking in the neatly arranged equipment and stacks of raw materials.

After a moment, he turned to Clio.

“When will this place be ready to begin production?” he asked, his voice carrying a tone of expectation.

Clio crossed his arms, leaning slightly against the nearest workbench.

“In a few weeks,” he replied.

“Just enough time to finish recruiting workers who meet the requirements.

You know the drill-loyalty, families already within the compound, and no ties to the outside world.” Alpheo nodded approvingly, satisfied with the methodical approach.

“And how do we acquire the materials?

The wood fibers?” he asked, gesturing toward the stacked bundles.

Clio straightened, his expression calm and confident.

“We buy them from trusted woodcutters and suppliers.

The materials come through the gates once a week with the caravan.

The person leading the caravan is the same one whose family resides here as our…

‘guests.’ He get a good deal of coin at each travel and has no motive to risk everything.  Alpheo approached one of the neatly stacked bundles of bark and picked up a strip, running his fingers over its rough texture.

His eyes narrowed slightly, already calculating its potential in his mind.

Clio watched him from a few steps away, his arms crossed as he considered the material.

“This one,” Clio remarked, nodding toward the bark Alpheo held, “I doubt it’ll yield much profit compared to the others.

This thing you call ‘paper’ doesn’t seem like it’ll be overwhelming, not here at least.” Alpheo turned the bark in his hand, his lips curling into a knowing smile.

“You underestimate its value,” he replied.

“An empire runs on paper, Clio.

While the neighboring princes might not care for it, there’s a different story to the north.

The empire will leap at the chance for cheaper, sturdier documents compared to their costly papyrus or parchments.

It’s not about overwhelming demand here; it’s about finding the right market.” Clio tilted his head, his skepticism giving way to curiosity.

“And here?” Alpheo chuckled softly, placing the bark back on the stack.

“Here, our neigboring princes won’t give half a shit, for us it will instead lay the foundation for our own soon-to-be bureaucracy.

If we aim to govern efficiently, I will need to expand our administration, and paper will need to be an abundance ” As Alpheo placed the bark back on the stack, Clio’s expression shifted, as though a sudden realization struck him.

He straightened, a rare grin breaking across his face.

“By the way,” he began, his tone warm and genuine, “congratulations on the news about the princess.

A child-quite the blessing.” Alpheo blinked, startled by the shift in conversation, and dropped the bark he had been holding.

It hit the floor with a faint thud.

He recovered quickly, offering a nod of gratitude.

“Thank you,” he replied, a trace of warmth softening his demeanor.

Clio leaned casually against a nearby post, arms crossed.

“Have you and her grace decided on a name yet?

Or is it still too early?” Alpheo chuckled lightly, shaking his head.

“There are a few ideas floating around,” he admitted, his as he had some names he wanted to give his child, yet he still had not discussed them with Jasmine , yet…