∗ ∗ ∗
“Not bad, considering we built it all by ourselves. It’s beginning to look like a real town here, don’t you think?” I commented as I surveyed the almost finished frontier town from what could generously be called an entrance.
About a month had passed since Cath and the kobolds started building the town from scratch. Well, almost. The chapel was made of stone and sufficiently robust, so all it had needed was some cleaning and reinforcement. The kobolds and I had built about five wooden houses around it. Of course, they were just shabby one-story buildings made by amateurs, but they were more than enough to house one kobold family each.
Excluding Mataza and Liber, there were currently fifteen kobolds. There were more of them than before because during our time here, we’d been attacked by wild kobolds. Since being defeated, the survivors obeyed me and were bound by my <Follower Contract>. There were ten adult kobolds and five pups. The kobold population would probably only increase, but five houses was plenty for now. Besides, kobolds generally lived as packs, so they all just slept wherever they wanted.
However, this was at odds with the other typical habits of canine beastmen. Canine beastmen had the concept of packs as well, but they weren’t as feral as kobolds, so their households were properly divided by family. That was why I’d asked the kobolds to imitate those kinds of familial arrangements whenever possible. Of course, we could give that up if it was too difficult for them to go against their instincts or if it was emotionally distressing. We didn’t really plan to invite lots of outsiders anytime soon anyway, so we’d be fine for the time being. That being said...
“They’re supposed to arrive soon...”
“Woof woof, woof? (You’re referring to the blacksmiths and carpenters you hired through the adventurer’s guild?)” Mataza asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. We’ve managed to make some temporary housing on our own, but it’s tough to construct real buildings that are up to standard. Besides, we’re going to need more specialized tools like hoes for when we have to grow fields and clear the forest. We could just buy them, but it would be better in the long-term to have someone who can do blacksmithing.”
I’d considered using <Follower Contract> for that, but decided against it because it just didn’t sit well with me. If I did so, I could learn smithing skills and teach them to the kobolds. It would be great for the town’s growth, but it’d be just too inhumane.
I wouldn’t feel particularly guilty about imposing <Follower Contract> on an attacking enemy, but tricking someone who was just trying to do their job would leave a sour taste in my mouth. Well, if I really wanted to guarantee my safety and nothing else, it might be best to just make <Follower Contracts> with one person after another...but even then, that could be risky. My conversation with Forneus had made it clear that the contract didn’t rob the contractor of their free will. A direct order might be the exception, but even then, there were still too many things I didn’t know for sure.
For now, it seemed best to avoid adventuring much, at least until our town base was sufficiently developed. I’d somehow have to experiment with my own skills in the meantime, so I intended to use them on monsters rather than humans. For the most part, monsters couldn’t blab to other people like humans could. Especially not monsters that didn’t even have their own languages. Even among kobolds, few of them could understand human language. The new kobolds I’d formed <Follower Contracts> with had been the first of these experiments.
“Woof, woof woof (But our coming guests won’t stay here for a prolonged period, correct?)”
“Of course they won’t. For now, I just wanted to get some tradesmen in so they see that the work here isn’t too bad. That way, it’ll be easier to procure more of them, and eventually people will come along who are willing to live here a while. That’s the long-term picture, though. Also, I want you all to observe their work and try to steal their skills, just like how you did with Aht.”
“Woof! Woof woof! (Aha! If that’s the case, then gladly!)”
Aht had taught us plenty of skills, but the most valuable lesson had been how to steal rather than be taught. It wasn’t literally theft; rather, they were methods of observing, analyzing, and then mastering someone else’s skill. These methods could be used for basically anything. Fortunately, Aht had lots of skills for us to practice on. If we wisely applied this experience, we might be able to crudely learn blacksmithing and carpentry.
If not, we don’t have to force it. We can pay for lessons. Anyway, I’m free to dream.
As I mulled over this, I heard a coach approaching from afar.
“Sounds like they’re here. Let’s go out to greet them.”
“Woof! (All right!)”