The Mighty Dragons Are Dead

Liszt punctured all of the volcanic glass bubbles and released and collected all of the Fire Dragon Magic Power, filling a total of thirteen Fire Dragon Jars.

Two bathhouses, plus the castle’s bathtub hot spring, the bedroom and study’s Fire Dragon Brand Air Conditioners, barely consumed half a jar of magic power.

The remaining Fire Dragon Jars were enough for him to build a brick factory, a ceramic factory, and even a steam turbine ship—of course, he needed to take things step by step. The days might seem boring for the most part, but in fact, he was very busy. He had thought about the brick factory for several months and still hadn’t found time to start construction.

After all, a Lord Landlord couldn’t possibly do the work of sifting soil and firing bricks himself; it all had to be created by officials leading the serfs.

“Mission completed, reward: Cheerful Cold Flame Mushroom.”

Once the bathhouses were built and opened for business, the Smoke Mission was completed, and the reward was issued. The mission also updated with a new one.

“Mission: Having labored for a year, even a Lord Landlord needs to relax. Enjoy the upcoming holiday, contemplate the development paths for next year, expand social relationships, or do nothing at all, waiting for the holiday season to end. Reward: Unknown reward.”

Seeing the latest mission.

Liszt didn’t know how to react to this; this didn’t seem like a mission at all. The requirement for the mission was to relax, to do nothing.

“Could it be that the Smoke Mission thinks I’ve worked too hard this past year?”

Thinking it over, Liszt felt somewhat embarrassed. Indeed, he had done plenty, transforming Fresh Flower Town completely. However, regarding effort, he was probably the most relaxed among the transmigrators, spending sixty percent of his time on enjoyment, excluding sleep.

At least twenty percent of that time was spent on food and drink—holding feasts nearly every day, with the occasional lunch banquet as well.

“People take food as their heaven; indulging in food and drink isn’t excessive,” he mused.

“Moreover, as an Elite Earth Knight with aspirations, I indeed need a lot of food for nourishment,” he quickly consoled himself for his eating and drinking habits. “In less than a year, I’ve progressed from an Apprentice Knight to starting my Dou Qi Cultivation with the aid of elixirs, and my advancements are enough to prove the importance of eating well.”

Eating and drinking were not about decadence or corruption.

It was a part of the Knight’s Dou Qi Cultivation.

While eating and drinking every day, he never skipped his practice. Early in the morning, he would begin training with the Dou Qi Manuscript, and upon returning to the castle, he would take Magic Potions.

He wouldn’t claim to be diligent, but at least he was diligent.

Cultivation was about knowing when to advance and when to relax, not about toiling 24 hours a day to get a return: “After all, taking elixirs is the royal road to a Knight’s training.”

This principle was taught by the Earl to his sons.

Liszt took it as a maxim.

Then, he turned his head and unpleasantly asked the other side of the apple tree, “How many bags of egg rolls is that now for you? When I’m deep in thought, please go farther away and don’t make any noise to interrupt my train of thought. Understand, Paris the Guard?”

“Uh.” Paris, with her mouth full of egg rolls, silently turned and walked away.

The egg rolls she was eating were made of a batter mixed with flour, egg liquid, white sugar, baked into thin sheets, spread with butter, and then rolled into tubes.

This was not Liszt’s invention, but a new snack independently created by the bakery owner Reynard and just recently hit the market.

It was hand-made and not cheap, so it didn’t sell very well.

To encourage this new invention, Liszt had the castle buy batches of egg rolls every day, but while this snack was quite pleasant occasionally, it became tiresome after repeated consumption.

So the egg rolls either went to the servants as a perk or were distributed to the subordinates during a banquet, and Liszt himself didn’t eat much of them.

Paris was quite fond of egg rolls, and one-third of those bought had ended up in her stomach. Looking at her figure, she had only been in the castle for about ten days, but there were already signs of further weight gain.

“Hopefully she doesn’t turn into a fatso, as that would greatly affect the visual experience.”

He leaned back in his chair, basking in the rarely-seen sun, feeling rather content.

Now Paris was a beautiful sight to behold, each with their own charm like the castle’s maid, Little Lily. One was a spirited female warrior, the other a shy and delicate maid, but they shared one thing in common: protruding bosoms, perky buttocks, slim waists and long legs—Liszt favored this type of figure.

However, it was limited to mere appreciation.

“Woah!”

“Woah!”

Not far away, Thorn Minor Elf Jela was teasing the intermediate magical beast, Fierce Earth Dog Douson. This was a bad habit of Jela’s that she couldn’t seem to kick, and over time, Liszt couldn’t be bothered to intervene, and Douson had resigned to its fate. After all, Jela’s thorns couldn’t pierce its defenses, and once Jela grew tired of the teasing, she would naturally give up.

Plop.

The remaining snow on the apple tree fell onto the apple table.

Liszt immediately stood up, “Thomas, prepare the horse and notify the retainer knights; I’m going to Mushroom Hamlet.”

“Yes, Master.”

As he walked along Douson Avenue, he said to Paris, who was still eating egg rolls, “No practical training today. You should head back… With the festival approaching, it’s best that you go to North Valley City and purchase a proper suit of leather armor for yourself. Wearing what you have now, others might think the castle is too poor to afford its guards’ pay.”

Paris was still in her worn leather armor, a state that she found acceptable, but the nobles cared a great deal about the neatness of their attire.

“This is the hypocrisy of the nobility, the sheen of clothes cannot conceal the stains of the heart,” she muttered under her breath, though she did not object to buying new clothes—who could resist the allure of new garments?

Liszt shouted over to Jela, who was still causing a ruckus, “Go to sleep, Jela.”

Sensing Liszt’s indomitable mood, Jela protested with a couple of “Woah, woah” sounds but obediently flew towards the castle. Douson, feeling the world had finally quieted down, quickly ran up to Liszt, sticking out its tongue and wagging its tail, trying to look endearing.

It knew that when Liszt behaved like this, he would venture out, and then it could frolic freely.

Thomas led the Li Dragon Horse over.

The retainer knights also arrived on horseback.

Liszt mounted the horse and gave the command, “Move out, to Mushroom Hamlet.”

The horses’ hooves kicked up the snow on the ground as they galloped past, taking a shortcut off the main road and arriving directly at Mushroom Hamlet. The fifty acres of dedicated mushroom greenhouses and the mixed planting of mushrooms and Flame Mushrooms over another fifty acres meant that even though Mushroom Hamlet had limited farming land, its income was high. Mushrooms were an indispensable option on the dinner table.

The expanded cultivation of the Flame Mushrooms, constantly turned into magic potions, supplied Liszt’s addiction to the drugs.

Therefore, his interest in Mushroom Hamlet was only second to that of Thorn Garden.

At the moment in Mushroom Hamlet, serfs were busily inspecting their greenhouses. Just yesterday, Lord Landlord had come for an inspection and subsequently ordered the serfs to check for any hazards in the greenhouses and to pay attention to any issues arising from the cultivation of the Flame Mushrooms.

“Discovered any problems?”

Upon arrival, Liszt directly inquired with the steward of Mushroom Hamlet. He had inspected the merged greenhouses of mushrooms and Flame Mushrooms the previous day but hadn’t found the Cheerful Cold Flame Mushroom, which was a reward from the Smoke Mission.

The steward cautiously replied, “Lord Landlord, several serfs’ greenhouses have pillars that are riddled with insect damage. We’ve applied to the administration for carpenters to replace them with new ones… Additionally, Crooked-neck Bob’s Flame Mushrooms have mostly died because he forgot to close the door and they froze.”