Garrett smoothly found the review committee. Old Sam, with messy hair and bloodshot eyes, greeted him weakly:
"Any new discoveries lately? Or any projects to report? Your thesis is still under verification, youâll need to wait another two days..."
Garrett glanced at his desk. It was wide and large, at least 2 meters by 1 meter, with seven or eight stacks of documents piled up, leaving Old Sam only a row of space between his arms.
A red and a black ink bottle stood there, with several quill pens awkwardly inserted, their feathers tattered. A map lay beside them, marked with red, blue, and black arrows, circles, and crosses, drawn in a completely disastrous manner...
"Do you need any help?" Garrett couldnât help but feel sympathetic. Old Sam rubbed his eyes and responded lifelessly:
"No need... you canât help anyway... itâs all about meticulous work now, pushing bit by bit..."
The review committee was truly swamped. Elder Woodâs side considered the project complete and paid the funds as scheduled; other areasâ Natureâs God sects were urgently halted.
Plans were changed, theses distributed, and several groups of Transmutation mages were temporarily reassigned to repeat verificationsâ
After planting a crop, exactly how much nitrogen, phosphorus, and potassium is needed to replenish the soilâs fertility!
Grain proportions? How much wheat? How much barley? How much oats? How much soybeans, peas, lentils, pumpkins, potatoes, and beets?
Oh, and should forage be planted? Those livestock, especially the large ones, canât just starve to death!
How large is the fertilizer gap? How to fill it, how much time to fill it, and from where?
If these issues involving numbers and calculations could be solved by manpower, then issues involving peopleâs hearts couldnât be purely settled by statistics and calculations.
For example, how to communicate with the nobles nationwide?
Though the Lord of Thunder and the Golden Dragon persuaded them, saying, "A great famine is coming, this year we must use all means, including magical means, to hoard grain," would some nobles refuse to hoard grain to annex land?
If there were such nobles, should violence be used to threaten them, or should grain be hoarded secretly to entice the serfs on their lands?
What if those too far away canât be enticed? Watch them starve? For every bit of starvation, the nationâs strength diminishes...
Or, should the Natureâs God cult, the War Godâs temple, the Spring Goddessâs temple, and the mage towers everywhere be negotiated with, to now strive to farm and hoard grain? Nobles might not care about their serfsâ lives, but temples still want faith!
The problems were myriad, and even every region, every nobleâs situation was different. Southern experience might not apply to the North, and Nevisâs experience certainly wouldnât apply to the capital, requiring extremely patient and meticulous work.
During this period, the eight grand mages of the review committee, along with assistants and administrative staff, threw all their time into it, apart from eating and sleeping.
"These matters donât need your worry." Old Sam wearily rubbed his forehead:
"Tell me, whatâs the matter? The Lord of Thunder has left for a while, anything you need, tell us directly, and weâll help if we can..."
"Where did the teacher go?" Garrett blurted out. Old Sam glanced at him with his bloodshot eyes:
"The Lord of Thunder didnât tell you? ... Then you donât need to ask, anyway, it shouldnât be dangerous. By the way, whatâs the matter?"
"Itâs like this, Cirella is going into hibernation recently..."
Garrett explained the situation in detail. Sure enough, asking the review committee was the right move. Old Sam straightforwardly pointed out a solution:
"A dragonâs nest? Yes. The council has a place to entertain dragon friends, on the north slope of Igor Peak, facing the ocean cliffs. Itâs spacious, scenic, energy-rich, tranquil, and safeâhow many months do you want to rent?" �
"Rent?!"
Garrett was shocked. What, a dragonâs nest is for rent?!
"What else?" Old Sam, nearly collapsing from fatigue, gleefully teased him to perk himself up. He took a big gulp of black coffee, grimacing from the bitterness, spitting coffee-colored saliva as he spoke:
"Have you seen any council facility thatâs free to use? The mountain train doesnât require tickets? The grand magic array in the Starry Dome doesnât have usage fees deducted from project funds? Why should a dragonâs nest be an exception?"
"Isnât it for entertaining friends?" Garrett asked stiffly. "Why charge money?"
"Generally, itâs just a discount price. Not much, only five hundred gold coins a day."
"Only?!"
Garrett felt like a lightning bolt had struck his forehead. Five hundred gold coins a day, fifteen thousand a month, Cirellaâs hibernation for half a year, thatâs ninety thousand gold coins...
Burning through the value of a mobile tower spirit in half a year! And still, not enough, he had to add more money!
"This is not much, just a threshold to prevent dragons from freeloading." Old Sam patiently explained:
"The area of a dragonâs nest, if turned into a hotel, could accommodate at least a hundred rooms. The best hotel in Nevis charges no less than ten gold coins a day, right?"
"But thatâs different!" Garrett tried to argue. A hotel has furniture, decor, staff services, possibly even includes meals. Whatâs in a dragonâs nest? Bare!
Not to mention filling it with gold, even if the floor was paved with gold coins, youâd worry about dragons digging it up!
"Dragons coming to stay at Igor Peak are friends of the council, usually here to help with projects." Old Sam confidently replied:
"The accommodation fee is covered by the working remuneration, or the inviting mage will naturally deduct it from the project funds."
Mages qualified to invite dragons are generally legends or near-legends, at least level 15 and above. A mere accommodation fee is a small matter for them, any project can cover itâ
Anyway, itâs just transferring funds from one hand to the other. The council channels excess energy into the dragonâs nest, getting a dragon to stay at Igor Peak, very cost-effective.
Of course, when setting this price, they didnât consider a situation like Garrettâs, a mere level 7 mage, unable to afford the dragonâs nest fee, ahem.
"Well, go back and talk to Miss Silver Dragon." Old Sam yawned, clearly, the strong coffee hadnât invigorated him:
"After all, itâs her who wants to stay, maybe she can afford it? If not, you can negotiate with the Prophecy department to extend her working time at the Starry Dome... we have other discount policies..."
Garrett returned dejectedly, to relay the results to Cirella. Sigh, Alexander, Iâm still too poor!
I canât even afford to support Cirella!