Port Construction and the Constructs
1169 Words
Blub blub~ In a giant pot, several pieces of pure white "tree cores" bobbed up and down. After the bark of the Ancient Sacrificial Tree was stripped away, what remained was this white, tuber-like trunk.
Soaking in water and boiling at high temperatures to remove toxins—this was the only designated way to make it edible. Simply cooking it was not enough; it had to be continuously boiled for at least three to four hours until all the tubers became thoroughly soft.
The process could only be longer, never shorter. Whether it was complete soaking or exposure to high heat, neither could be skipped. Constant stirring also accelerated the detoxification process, allowing the food to become safe for consumption faster.
"Is it ready now, Mr. Ira?"
Feeling that enough time had passed, Mr. Lime asked this while watching one of his little slimes standing on a stool, tirelessly stirring the contents of the pot with a large ladle.
Five hours had already passed.
"It should be about ready. And if I remember correctly... most monsters have a certain resistance to toxins."
Ira stepped forward, reaching into the pot with his bare hand to grab a piece of tree flesh. After shaking off the excess water, he placed it on the kitchen’s cutting board and said, "Treat it like a regular yam, but this crop has more fiber, so be mindful when cooking it."
Rather than a delicacy, the Ancient Sacrificial Tree was more of a sustenance crop. How to describe it…?
It was somewhat similar to a potato, but unless its fibrous strands were carefully removed, the texture would be even worse.
To visualize it, imagine mashed potatoes filled with long, thin wood chips.
"I understand. I'll remove the fibers carefully."
Using a broad butcher’s knife, Mr. Lime crushed the tree’s flesh and quickly noticed the issue. With a short, thin boning knife, he carefully picked out a strand of fiber. His voice was filled with the seriousness of a true chef as he said, "Ignoring the fibers, the texture of the Ancient Sacrificial Tree is actually quite fine."
"It seems I can develop many new dishes from this. Mr. Ira, look forward to it!"
"……"
Seeing Mr. Lime rubbing his hands together in excitement, Ira simply smiled and nodded before leaving the kitchen.
The rest was up to Lime. Surely, he wouldn't serve the Ancient Sacrificial Tree without properly detoxifying it, leading everyone to an untimely demise… right?
In the beastman territories, where this tree was most commonly grown, the usual method of consumption was simple—after detoxification, people would just grab the softened chunks and eat them directly. Though the taste was bland, it could stave off hunger.
But Lime had both the precision of an experienced chef and the enthusiasm of a newcomer to culinary innovation. He would undoubtedly develop cuisine centered around the Ancient Sacrificial Tree.
Ira looked forward to it.
After all, in this world, two things should never be taken for granted: good food and the passion in people's hearts.
Upon stepping out of the Demon King's castle, Ira noticed a distinct change in the environment. The ground was no longer littered with filth, and the air—though still carrying the scent of grass and soil—was no longer unbearably foul.
It wasn’t pleasant, but it was tolerable.
It seemed like the next step would be to discuss road paving with the others in the castle. At the very least, people shouldn’t have to walk through muddy paths.
Ira understood all too well: to build wealth, one must first build roads.
The efficiency of monsters was truly impressive. If this were the Empire, enforcing such hygiene measures might require whippings as punishment and silver coins as rewards to fully implement a proper sanitation plan.
"Lord Ira."
"Lord Ira."
"Good morning, Lord Ira."
As some of the monsters greeted him, Ira responded with nods. Others merely cast respectful glances without speaking.
Somewhere along the way, he had become accepted by the Demon Lord’s domain.
This land was truly a fascinating country.
Just as he was thinking that, Ira wrinkled his nose. The air, which had been tolerable just moments ago, suddenly transformed into a stench so foul that his stomach churned, threatening to eject its contents.
"……"
That smell was coming from the livestock pens—home to easily domesticated animals such as chickens, ducks, and pigs.
By comparison, the more valuable cows and sheep were kept free-range. Their hides were essential for producing paper, which, though thick, remained the only available writing material in this world.
Yet, aside from Ira, the monsters here seemed entirely unfazed by the stench.
Of course, he hadn’t come outside today just to patrol the Demon Lord’s domain.
Today, he was going to inspect the port renovations—and maybe take a look at the day's shore harvest.
Passing by the salt-drying pools, Ira’s eyes fell upon the shore.
It was low tide, and several Succubi were wading in the shallows, scattering enchanting mana into the water.
Behind them, countless lesser monsters eagerly scooped up shellfish that floated to the surface.
This wasn’t fishing so much as harvesting.
The ocean’s resources, having remained largely untapped, were unimaginably abundant. Even at this rate, the supply would last for years. However, dependency on this method was dangerous.
The main food supply should always come from farming and livestock, while fishing should be a supplemental industry.
"Ira, sir. You are, here."
A deep, mechanical voice called out to him.
It was the leader of the Constructs.
Ira nodded in greeting, watching as these non-carbon-based monsters hauled massive logs to reinforce and build structures.
Their speed was outrageously fast.
The port renovation plan had only been finalized yesterday, yet the framework was already taking shape today.
"Good morning."
Acknowledging their greeting, Ira turned his attention to a wooden platform.
"Convenient, unloading, platform, almost, finished," the Construct stated, pointing to the structure.
Ira could tell—this was the fundamental difference between the war harbor on the other side and this fishing port.
The former was built to accommodate massive warships.
The latter needed to efficiently handle countless fishing boats and their hauls.
"And what about the boats?" Ira asked.
"We, do not, build, ships. Perhaps, must, buy them. Or, summon, Sirens, Merfolk, Janna, and others, to return, to, Demon Lord’s domain."
"……"
As Ira had suspected, the oceanic monster races had defected.
The Demon Lord’s naval forces were essentially nonexistent.
"I see. Thank you for the information."
After observing the construction for a little while longer, Ira turned to leave.
He needed to speak with the ghostly financial officer about trade…
Or perhaps consult the vampire diplomat in charge of foreign affairs.
"Ira, sir."
The Construct called out again.
"Yes?"
As Ira turned back, the Construct opened the iron plating on its chest, revealing a pale yellow core inside.
"You, need, monster’s, mana. Please, take, mine."
"……"
"……Thank you."
- Writer
