Chapter 170 - 116 : Year 25 - 31 Martial Path Potential

Chapter 170: Chapter 116 : Year 25 - 31 Martial Path Potential

Lucian began paying closer attention to the work that kept the city of Veymont and its surrounding settlements running. He spoke with merchants about what was holding back trade, asked craftsmen which materials were hardest to obtain, and reviewed the mine reports to find out why some workings were producing less than they should.

Where a small investment could make a difference, he approved repairs to equipment, released materials from the house’s stores, and arranged for greater protection along the routes used to transport goods. He could not make trade flourish by issuing orders, but he could remove some of the difficulties that kept people from earning a living.

One of his efforts, however, suffered a serious setback. A silver mine had begun producing more ore after repairs to a damaged passage, and Lucian had hoped the increased output would bring in extra income for other urgent work. Then, after several days of rain, a large section of the hillside beside the road leading to the mine gave way.

The collapse carried part of the road down the slope and damaged the timber supports around the main entrance. No workers were trapped, but the entrance was no longer safe, and the loose earth and weakened supports made it impossible to resume work until the damage had been assessed and repaired. The mine had to close just as production was beginning to recover. Reopening it would require clearing the debris, securing the hillside, rebuilding the supports, and repairing the road so workers and ore carts could reach the entrance again.

Lucian found the timing particularly frustrating. The house had already spent money getting the mine back on track, and now it would earn nothing until further repairs were completed. He ordered the overseer to assess the damage and estimate the cost before committing funds, knowing that the longer the mine remained closed, the more income the house would lose.

The collapse forced Lucian to reconsider how he would divide the money available for recovery. The expected income from the mine could no longer be counted on, and the cost of reopening it would compete with other work that also needed attention. He asked the overseer to identify what materials and labour would be needed and which repairs had to come first to make the entrance safe.

Once he had the estimates, Lucian set the mine’s reopening as a priority and postponed another project that could wait. It was a difficult choice, but leaving the mine closed would mean losing income without any guarantee that the delay would make the eventual repairs cheaper. He had to keep the rest of the territory’s recovery moving while finding a way to restore an important source of revenue.

The castle was also adjusting to its reduced means. With fewer servants than before the war, some duties had been combined, leaving those who remained with more work. Lucy reviewed the household expenses and found ways to cut unnecessary spending, but she was careful not to remove things the household genuinely needed. When a proposed saving risked creating greater expense later, she brought it to Lucian’s attention, and they looked for another solution.

Her judgment helped them keep the household running without making short-term savings that would cause trouble in the future.

Progress remained slow, but there were signs that their efforts were helping. More merchants were willing to use the roads, and some craftsmen were receiving enough orders to earn a steadier living.

The silver mine’s setback had reminded Lucian how easily a problem in one part of the territory could affect the rest. Increasing production meant little if the ore could not reach the market without further expense, just as safer roads could not restore trade if there were too few goods to carry. He continued working through these problems as they arose, knowing that House Veymont’s recovery would depend on getting many such details right over time.

Their family was also growing.

Year Twenty-Five, Lucian had been a father for eleven years. His eldest son, born in Year Fourteen, was now eleven and beginning to understand that his place in the family meant more than receiving a good education and learning to fight.

Lucian did not burden him with adult responsibilities too soon. Instead, he began introducing him to the everyday affairs of the estate. The boy listened as officials reported on their lands, accompanied trusted men on inspections, and gradually learned how a decision that seemed fair within the castle could have very different consequences for people living in a distant village.

His martial lessons continued as well. The surviving senior retainer occasionally oversaw his training, keeping him focused on the basics: learning to hold a proper stance, move without losing his footing, and repeat simple strikes until he could perform them with control.

These exercises laid the foundation for Skin Tempering, the first stage of his martial development, where he would begin strengthening his skin through training. Lucian wanted his eldest to be able to defend himself and lead men if necessary, but he also knew that a Count could not govern through martial skill alone. His son had to learn how to judge people, understand obligations, and recognize when he lacked enough information to make a sound decision. Lucian knew these lessons would not always be easy for a boy of his age, but they were part of the life waiting for him. His own father had begun preparing him in much the same way, as generations of Veymont heirs had been prepared before them.

Now it was his turn to guide his son, giving him the knowledge and discipline he would one day need to carry the family’s name and responsibilities.

The second son, born in Year Eighteen, was seven by this time. He was quieter than his elder brother and more curious about things that others rarely stopped to examine. He wanted to know why a hinge wore out, how a cart wheel held together beneath a heavy load, and why one tool lasted longer than another even when both appeared to have been made alike.

His elder brother took more readily to martial training, but Lucian did not judge the younger boy by his interest alone. He had already arranged for the family’s senior Force Tempering retainer to examine him and assess his potential.

The examination required more than watching the boy perform a few exercises. The retainer placed a hand on his shoulder and carefully guided a small amount of martial force through his body, feeling how it passed through his muscles and along his bones.

A Force Tempering martial artist could control this force well enough to sense how a child’s body responded to it, revealing signs of natural aptitude that ordinary training might take years to uncover. The retainer’s findings were clear. The boy could undertake martial training, and with patient instruction and sufficient resources, he might eventually reach Bone Tempering. Beyond that, however, his prospects were uncertain. His body lacked the natural aptitude that would make further advancement likely, and no amount of training could guarantee that he would overcome the limitation.

This ability was one reason Force Tempering martial artists were so valuable to noble houses. At that stage, a martial artist could release a limited amount of the force he had refined through years of training beyond his own body. Most could extend it only about a pace, allowing them to strengthen a blow, turn aside a nearby weapon, or send even a leaf flying hard enough to threaten an opponent.

Stories told of rare talents whose force could reach several paces farther, sometimes as much as five metres, but such ability was exceptional. Even then, the force was limited and could not be used endlessly. Releasing it repeatedly drained the martial artist, and a fighter who exhausted himself could still be overwhelmed by ordinary soldiers. A Force Tempering martial artist was a formidable opponent in close combat, but he was not a weapon capable of sweeping aside an army.

Their value to a noble house extended beyond the battlefield. Lesser martial artists could teach children the basic movements and watch how they improved, but they could not assess a child’s potential with the same certainty before years of training had been invested. A house without a Force Tempering martial artist of its own would have to seek an assessment from its liege lord or another trusted expert, assuming one could be made available.

This gave houses with such a master an advantage in identifying promising children early and deciding where their resources would be best spent. House Veymont had lost most of its Force Tempering martial artists in the war, leaving its surviving veteran as one of its most important remaining assets. Even as age slowed him, his knowledge continued to serve the family in ways that went beyond his strength in a fight.

Lucian understood the limits of talent better than most. He had spent years training and drawing on his family’s resources to reach Blood Tempering, yet Force Tempering had remained beyond his grasp. He would not pretend that determination alone could carry every person to the same height, nor would he regard his second son’s lower aptitude as a failure.

The boy would still receive the martial training expected of a Veymont, enough to build a foundation and defend himself when necessary, but Lucian had no intention of forcing him to pursue an advancement that might always remain beyond his reach.

For now, he allowed the boy to continue learning at his own pace. His curiosity about tools and the workings of ordinary things was worth encouraging too, even if it was still too early to know where those interests might lead.