Black Iron's Glory

Chapter 67: Repercussions

Morssen constantly gave Claude a grim look for the rest of the week. Even though Claude greeted him every morning softly, he would only snort as a response, especially after how the Whitestag Dawn Edition reported the incident about Claude going up the roof for fresh air only to fall asleep and cause a misunderstanding with the patrolling guards. Morssen’s mood only worsened from reading that.

Even though the paper didn’t specify Claude, reporting the person involved as ‘Mister A’ instead, everyone knew who they were really talking about. Morssen was extremely dissatisfied. One of the reasons for that was the newspaper publication made his son out to be a laughingstock. Even though it was only published in a small column, that didn’t stop his colleagues and friends from teasing him. ‘Your son didn’t sleep on the roof yesterday night again, did he?’ some of them would say, only to make Morssen feel even worse.

He was also angry as a father for Claude’s own recklessness. How did he get the gall to sleep on top of the roof? The roof was on the third floor and at least 14 meters from the ground, not to mention that it was sloped! The slightest slip in attention would see him roll and fall down. It was far too dangerous.

In that sense, Morssen was thankful for the guards for spotting his son back then. If they didn’t report it earlier and Claude really fell from the roof, all would be too late. The harmless gossip would end up as a tragedy instead. Morssen would much prefer the former than the latter coming to pass. Being laughed at by others was far better than losing a loved one. He was a decent father who was concerned for his children after all.

For that reason, Morssen `even freed himself one afternoon to treat the captain of the patrol that night to express his gratitude. That won him much praise from the patrons of the old tavern. Many of them thought him to be a real gentleman who reciprocated the help he received.

As for the newspaper, Morssen called for a large meeting the moment he returned to the town hall with the agenda of tackling tax evasion and town hygiene. The factories and workshops in all of Whitestag went under a huge investigation campaign and the slightest error was punished with a fine and an order to rectify the errors in an extremely limited time.

Morante Dawn Edition was one of the most heavily checked establishments throughout this campaign. The investigations turned out a large number of problems with their side, among which there were 13 fines for hygiene. The chief editor was completely ruined because of all the fines. In the end, one of the investors of the newspaper paid Morssen a visit with a gift to ask for mercy and also met with Sir Fux, a member of the lower house. Only after that did Morssen spare the publication.

Claude’s life on the other hand wasn’t smooth sailing. He was banned from going up to the roof and was mocked by his schoolmates for more than a week. Claude even got a nickname: Claude the Roofer. Those not in the know would actually think that he was a chimney cleaner of some sort.

Personally, he didn’t really care about what people called him. However, Eriksson and Welikro had secretly beaten up a few students who called Claude that name. The four of them didn’t get along well with the others in school in the first place, and the other students were terrified by the four’s brutish behavior. Even though Claude made a point to keep his temper in check after transmigrating, he was still one of the four terrors of their school. Him becoming laughingstock was so rare that the other students that disliked them didn’t want to lose the opportunity to make fun of Claude.

He was more concerned with one other thing. While his father was angry, he could understand that it was because of his love for him. But ever since he was forbidden from going up to the roof by his father, he realized that he could only do three Hexagram Meditations instead of six when he was on the roof. After three times, he would feel slightly dizzy from straining his mental power too much, accompanied by a slight, pulsing pain in his temples. It was no wonder Landes warned against practicing too much in the beginning.

However, that alone put another question in Claude’s mind. Didn’t anybody notice that meditating under the moon almost doubled its effectiveness? I can meditate throughout the night in the moon. Not only does it not strain my mental power at all, it even makes me feel refreshed like I’m on stimulants.

Claude didn’t believe that not a single magus noticed that trick over the course of a few millennia. He could only come up with two reasons that was the case: the first was that very few magi discovered this trick and intentionally kept it secret.

The other was a matter of security. Landes stated in the diary that one had to find a quiet place where one wouldn’t be disrupted during meditation. Even though the dangers of being interrupted weren’t stated outright, just like how one would lose control of one’s cultivation in cultivation novels, he reasoned that it was because a magus was at his most vulnerable during meditation, given how almost all sensation from the outside world was cut off in that state. They would be no stronger than a seven-year-old child. One strike would be enough to kill a meditating magus.

Naturally, Claude also considered the possibility that his mental power was an oddity that allowed him to recover when exposed to moonlight. But he didn’t think it was plausible. The number of amazing magi surely wouldn’t be that low throughout the millennia the magical civilization existed. Surely someone like him would’ve shown up if it really were a special trait or something. The people who had stronger mental power than Claude was almost certainly numerous. Landes’s mental power rating of eight seemed so much higher than what Claude would rate his own.

But soon, the effects meditating without sleep began to show after a few days. Even though he was still energized after the meditation sessions, his body could no longer take the toll of not sleeping after three days of staying up straight. If the day after Claude was mistaken for a burglar hadn’t been Sunday, he might’ve had to skip a day of school. He was even lectured by Morssen at four in the morning on that day before he went back to his attic to sleep. He didn’t wake until 18 hours later during dinner on Sunday.

Fortunately, Madam Ferd checked on him out of worry and didn’t wake him from his deep slumber, also stopping his siblings, Angelina and Bloweyk, from bringing the snowhound up to disturb him. Only through a long period of sleep did he completely recover. That was one of the benefits of his youth.

Having learned his lesson, Claude no longer climbed on the roof nor meditated through the night. Now, he only meditated during nine at night before sleep. After three times, it usually ended around two and he was just tired enough to sleep. He woke up at seven during the mornings, washed up, had his breakfast and went to school like usual.

Even though he only got five hours of sleep during the night, the fatigue of meditation ensured that he spent those hours in deep sleep. It was a dreamless night all the way till the bell rang at dawn; the quality of sleep couldn’t be better. Additionally, he was only 16, still young and filled with vigor. He could also make up for lack of sleep during his academic stream periods before noon. That was how he didn’t wreck his body and end up looking like the cliched magus villains in novels that were often depicted to be pale and frail.

Recently, the only thing that made him happy was how Borkal finally sold the shaliun he gave him for a high price of 12 gold krons. That came as a huge shock to all of his friends. If a shaliun was traded in to the town bank, it would only trade for two gold krons. Eriksson and Welikro were both rather moved and wanted to sell their own gold coin as well.

Borkal said that the reason it sold for so much was completely due to luck. All four of his father’s friends were intent on having one shaliun in their collection, so he sold it off in an auction at his house. Given that his father was hosting it and he had gripes with two of the attendees, he kept on raising the price throughout the auction and managed to settle on that ridiculous amount in the end.

Even the buyer who succeeded in winning the auction felt an ounce of regret because a shaliun could be purchased for ten gold krons at market price. Even though shaliuns rarely showed up for sale and would be bought the instant it appeared, 12 gold krons was more than what the coin was worth. However, the buyer couldn’t turn back after making his bid and happily sealed the deal with Borkal.

Borkal believed that his father’s friend didn’t really make a loss from that deal. Even though the coin sold for a high price of 12 krons, the price of the coin would easily grow to 12 or even 15 krons after a decade or two of safekeeping.

The reason for that was simple: shaliuns were made by the magi using alchemical forging techniques instead of the standard mold-and-mint technique most coin makers employed. Their numbers would only decrease with time, meaning that the price of the coin would only rise, not fall. Any coin collector worth his salt would definitely have a shaliun in his collection.

Borkal’s explanation snapped Eriksson and Welikro out of their desire to sell the coin. Since Borkal reasoned that the coins would continue to rise in price, they felt it better to keep them. It wasn’t like they were in a rush to spend money in the first place. Keeping the coin as a familial heirloom was also a good choice.

Eriksson announced one piece of good news: they would be able to shoot ducks in Lake Balinga from his boat during the coming Sunday.

The remodeling of the flipper and wavepiercer to build his boat was quite some time ago. They had initially planned to hunt ducks last Sunday, but Claude was asleep for nearly the whole day. Even though Borkal and Welikro went to the jetty, Pegg stopped the three from rushing to sail. Back then, the boat was still being tested in shallow waters. The livewell also had to be tested to ensure there were no leaks.

So, Borkal and Welikro helped Eriksson in carrying goods onto and off the boat at Pegg’s instruction and returned home dead tired. The fishing boat still had to simmer for three more days or so before it was turned over for an inspection of the hull. Only after those safety checks could the test voyage begin.

“Are you sure you’re not asking us to go there and work our asses off again?” asked Borkal. Welikro nodded in agreement. The two of them had been terrified by their experience last Sunday and didn’t think that building a fishing boat would be so troublesome, with all those meticulous checks.

“I’m not. I can swear on it if you want,” Eriksson said with his ears flushed red with embarrassment, “Uncle Pegg has already finished checking the boat’s hull and thinks that it is perfectly constructed. It’s seaworthy now, so that’s why I’m inviting you all to go on a hunt. You mistake my good intentions!”

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