Orc Lord

Fiara burst into the Queen’s bedroom the next morning, holding a shiny metal tablet above her head. “Chief! Chief! Look at this!”

She kept running until finally, she tripped over the sleeping Vyra, who sat up and rubbed her eyes sluggishly.

“Fiara,” she yawned, “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Fiara got back up onto her knees, grinning even as her forehead started to bruise. She used one hand to hold the metal tablet out to her blood sister, “It’s just a proof of concept, but I made it work!”

Vyra reached out for the tablet and looked it over with half-shut eyes. There were some words engraved on it, but they themselves held no significance. She glanced back at her nation’s chief magic researcher. “What did you make work?”

Fiara got up onto her knees and smiled proudly. “The fusion of earth and space magic you were looking for.”

The drowsy fog left Vyra’s head in an instant. She looked down at the tablet with hungry eyes and promptly thrust it back to the one who built it. “Show me how it works.”

Fiara brushed a dark brown dreadlock behind her ear and took the tablet back, finding a place to sit so that Vyra could see what she was doing.

“The edge of the frame contains a spatial distortion,” she said, tapping a metal stylus to the surface and sliding it up. More text was revealed at the bottom.

“It's like an electronic tablet,” Vyra murmured, a smile touching her lips. “How nostalgic.”

Fiara blushed. “I'm glad. I got the idea to test it like this from the stories you told me about your old world.” She held up the stylus, “But there's more than that. Watch.”

She tapped the stylus to the tablet and held it there, then pressed a button on the side of the writing instrument. The gap between two of the writing lines expanded and continued expanding until she released the button.

“It's and with a sheet-like structure specified, combined with a magic power transfer to the space expansion magic built into the frame.”

Vyra’s third eye could see the Spell Formations and CSP activating, and her knowledge in that field helped her see through their meaning.

“Exactly,” Fiara grinned.

Vyra nodded at the stylus. “Can you write with that?”

“Yes.” Fiara twisted the tip until two arrows lined up. When she touched the tip to the tablet, the metal melted like cotton candy in water.

“ specialized to destroy aluminum. Then, the surrounding frame is made of some other metal?”

“The frame is platinum,” Fiara tapped it with the stylus, “because it won't dent easily if it's dropped. It won't rust either.”

“Good choice,” Vyra smiled. No matter how rare the metal was on earth, if it didn't have magical properties, a lower level magic caster could make as much of it as they wanted. “How is the stylus powered?”

“This here,” Fiara uncapped the stylus and pulled out a hollow tube, practically honeycombed from all the magic engineering work done to it. Inside of that tube was a magic core, reshaped into a cylinder for convenience. “I was worried some people wouldn’t be able to write much if they had to use their own magic power, so the stylus is powered by this magic core. It slides out so you can replace it with another one if you don’t have time to wait for it to recharge.”

“You were already planning for this to be a product on its own, huh? I agree, it’s much more convenient than the current clay tablets. You’ve outdone yourself as always. Good work.”

She assumed a bashful pose, “Thank you, Chief.”

“By the way, I heard the apprentices are nearly ready to start setting up the wall barrier. It's fine if they do that as soon as they can.”

“Alright, I’ll tell them. I wish we could have used Eggs for the engraving.”

Vyra smiled. “It can't be helped. Those are an overpowered technology, so we can't let all the apprentices know about them.”

“Won't it slow down the city’s growth though?”

“Only while the barrier’s activated.”

“I suppose that’s true.” The Anusa Orc stood up and dusted her robe at the knees. “I’ll get back to work then,” she smiled, exiting with a completely different level of dignity than what she entered with.

Vyra sighed. Me as well, I guess. She stood and walked over to her wardrobe, dressing in her only proper outfit and wearing her leather armor on top. She looked out the window then and saw that the sun had only barely peeked over the horizon. It's dark out?!

The Queen Orc sighed and finished pulling on her cloak. “Whatever. I’m already up, so I might as well work.”

***

By the time Nerun came to Vyra’s office, she’d already been working for over two hours. He smiled sympathetically and came to examine the work she’d done, but what he saw were dozens of half-worked and scrapped budgets.

“Uh, my Lord, are you having trouble with the math?” He recoiled when his typically temperate boss threw him a fiery glare.

Vyra aggressively sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “It’s impossible. No matter what I do, we run out of money in the end!”

The High Orc recovered himself and took a closer look at her calculations. He soon noticed a trend and raised his eyebrows.

“My Lord, it looks like everything will work out if you just cut the research tower’s budget a bit.” He looked up with a relieved smile, but it washed away when he saw those eyes; like she was looking at trash.

“Tell me, Nerun, how is it that you have a safe and secluded place to relieve yourself? How are hundreds of Orcs worth of manure being easily transported to the farms that feed you? What about the lights in the street at night, and the easily accessible fresh water in every home?” She closed her eyes, “The things those people are working on, and the things they’ll make in the future, are too important.”

“But where are you going to get the money to keep funding them at this pace?” he risked asking.

“I have no idea. In the first place, I don’t know how we’re struggling for money when we have unlimited food and water and manufacture the money at will. I’d like to ask Surumi what he knows about managing government expenses.”

Nerun bowed, “I’ll go call him up.”

***

When Surumi walked into her office, the first thing Vyra did was lower her head. “I’m sorry about yesterday. I was wrong.”

The Scholar smiled wryly. “I hope you’re not just saying that because you’re supposed to.”

She shook her head and held it up. “I’ve done my assignment properly this time.”

He smiled. “So how is Elven Harvest relevant to you?”

“I can use it as a reference should Babylon ever be in a position to trade with Elf Lands. That’s the explanation I came to for how I would benefit from knowing about agriculture that I can’t apply.”

“That’s a good start,” the Scholar nodded. “There’s something else as well.” He gave her a wry smile. “Can you think what it might be?”

Vyra wore a serious face. “I could potentially start a planetary-scale trade war if I flooded the elves with a steady supply of Orc manure. They would be able to produce crops so quickly and cheaply that the agricultural industries of all other descendant nations would be crippled.” She put her chin in her hand, “If all went smoothly, I could cut off the supply after three or four years and cause a massive famine, only to have Babylon step in and take all the profits. It would mean eliminating the elves though. Alternatively, we could systematically strike each of the races while they’re starving.”

Surumi stared with wide eyes, carefully parting his lips. “I was referring to the elves’ field management techniques: irrigation methods and such; the reality that there are some farming techniques you can borrow from them.” He put his forehead in his hand, “You have a talent for making ordinary things terrifying. Don’t make me regret teaching you.”

“I’m sorry. It’s the first thing I thought of when you asked.”

“It only makes you sound more villainous when you put it that way.”

“And on that note, I think I heard something interesting coming from in here.”

Vyra and Surumi turned to see Oolga peeking her head in through the door.

“I thought I’d drop by for today’s lesson,” she smiled.

Vyra sighed. “Actually, Surumi, I was hoping to do something other than a standard lecture today. There’s a problem I’m struggling with, and I could really use your insight.”

He hid his expression behind his fan. “What problem?”

She said nothing, merely holding out a stone tablet. “You can read it, can’t you? It’s mostly numbers.”

The Beastman scanned the city’s income and expenditures, and his brow furrowed. “This is abysmal,” he muttered. He set it down on Vyra’s desk, and Oolga casually picked it up to look at.

“I should apologize too. When you asked me for more practical lessons, I should have considered matters like these. I didn’t notice you weren’t able to manage it on your own, forgive me.”

“No, I expressed myself poorly yesterday,” Vyra waved for him to stop bowing, frowning at a failed budget plan. “Things like this make me feel like such a musclehead. Our resources are so plentiful, and yet… Is it my fault it ended up this way?”

“In a sense. Usually, one starts raising funds and gathering resources before building a city. This type of work is expensive, and you can’t expect a brand new economy to pay for everything.”

“There’s no way descendants save up the whole price of the city before building. Maybe it’s not as bad, but I’m sure they face this same problem. How do they deal with it?”

“By borrowing money from allies.”

“Of course!” she cheered sarcastically. “What about the very first cities?”

“They would have steadily grown from village-like states.”

Vyra held her forehead and sighed. After a moment, the light sound of a stylus scratching drew her attention. She looked to see that her mother had picked up one of her failed budgets and was making changes to it. “Are you onto something, momma?” She asked with a dreary smile.

She’d been working for hours and was convinced the task was impossible, but her mother smiled and handed over her thirty-seconds of work. Vyra raised her eyebrows and took the tablet, scanning the contents. Her lips quickly settled into a frown.

“Momma, the whole point is that it’s supposed to reach a zero balance at the end. Or, at the very least, it shouldn’t end on a negative number.”

“No, I think it’s perfectly fine to do it like that,” the Mayhem Orc smiled pleasantly.

Surumi gently waved his fan, “There is a concept called inflation caused by pouring new money into an economy. If you’re planning to make more coins, I’ll have to advise against it. It will only lower the value of the existing coins.”

“I’m not saying to make more money,” Oolga corrected him, “I’m saying not to pay it at all.”

“How is that fair? They’re doing work, so they should get paid for it.” Vyra couldn’t accept the idea of forcing free citizens to work without compensation. Not even Monsters could condone a practice like that.

Oolga came over and rubbed her daughter’s shoulders. “Here, baby, relax a little. I think you’d have thought of this if you were better rested.”

Vyra sighed, but she didn’t tell her to stop. Her first massage in this world came at a time when she greatly appreciated it. “Alright, I assume you thought this through. Explain it to me.”

“In our current economy, what do people need money to buy? It should be shelter, clothes, food, and water, right?”

“Those are the necessities, yes.”

“Clothes are purchased from tailors, and tailors buy their materials from various places. Not much can be done about that. However, the other three are bought from city-run institutions. You own all the land here, baby, and you can build more housing whenever it’s needed. We have a limitless supply of meat and water thanks to you and the researchers. So, watch this,”

Oolga released Vyra’s shoulders and leaned over the tablet. She removed a large portion of the debt and put it beside the salaries of various city employees. “This is approximately the percentage they would spend on food, water, and shelter.” She redistributed the positive income back to the total. The deficit was now at a level where it could be erased with a few good hunting sessions.

Oolga stood up and grinned, offering a small smirk when she saw Surumi’s impressed yet uncomfortable expression. “You see,” she said to Vyra, “the city won’t be in debt to itself, but to the city workers. So, we just need to cover our debt by providing necessities for them. In exchange for a significantly lower income, they will never risk wanting for what they need.”

Vyra held her chin in thought. What about the people who have to provide the food and water? … They’re government-employed as well, so there’s no monetary loss.

“I think it could work,” she nodded slowly and gave Surumi an inquisitive glance.

He directed his gaze away. “Despite the fact that the economy is struggling, your political and social control is near absolute. It’s baffling, but it’s viable.” He gave Oolga a long, hard look, but her pleasant smile didn’t break.

“Well,” Oolga clapped her hands and smiled, “since the budget has been sorted, can we get on to the lesson now?”

“Wait just one moment before we start,” Vyra laced her fingers and smiled dangerously. “Momma, you're quite good at balancing a budget, and I recall you’re quite free these days aside from your personal training.”

“Ara, I wonder what this daughter of mine is saying,” the Mayhem Orc laughed deviously. “My training takes up a lot of time and energy, and it would hurt to lose my spot as number one.”

“Shut up and be my treasurer. If you hate it, find someone else trustworthy and train them to do it in your stead.”

The woman looked on with some reluctance but sighed. “Fine, I understand. I'll quickly find someone who's a bit clever and train them." A fire seemed to be burning in her eyes, but not for the right reason.