Ainz Ooal Gown: Noble Knight.

The morning light was perfect, and the entire territory unfolded beneath my feet like a meticulously painted scroll. The neat farmland and the wisps of smoke rising from the chimneys—every detail told a story of the changes that had taken place over the past thirteen years.

"When was the last time Father wrote to us?" Rune suddenly asked.

Hill tilted her head, her listless, yellowish-brown eyes staring into the void as if searching her memory. "Three months ago," she said, "the Earl said he was too busy with affairs in the capital to return for the time being. He also said you were doing a good job, making the territory thrive."

She paused, then added, "The Earl also specifically mentioned the territory's weapons business. He said that it's being said in the capital that Aindora Territory is now one of the kingdom's largest weapons production centers, with orders booked until next year."

Rune's lips twitched slightly.

The largest weapons production base.

Orders are booked until next year.

Every single word is correct.

But what kind of expression would appear on Father's perpetually serious face if he knew where all the gold coins earned from these orders went?

Electroplated mithril weapon.

This is one of Rune's proudest inventions in this territory.

This world has mithril, a rare magical metal with excellent magical conductivity, making it a superior material for crafting magical weapons and armor. However, mithril is extremely expensive, beyond the reach of ordinary people.

This world also happens to have "silver plating solution," a special liquid used by alchemists for plating, which can be applied directly to weapons to temporarily give them a silver effect.

Moreover, this world also possesses lightning magic.

One day, Rune had a sudden inspiration: could he forge weapons from cheap metals and then plate them with mithril?

The experiment did not go smoothly, and it failed countless times, but the technique of electroplating mithril finally matured.

The finished weapons are far inferior to the real mithril weapons, but they are cheaper.

A genuine mithril longsword would cost a small adventurer's party enough to bankrupt them. A mithril-plated longsword, however, costs less than a tenth of that price.

As a result, orders poured in like snowflakes, and the Earl believed that his territory was making a fortune.

However, Rune's territory policy was too expensive.

In reality, the territory was still in a financial deficit, so Rune had no choice but to use the wealth accumulated by the Aindora family.

Rune was quite open-minded. If he failed to stop Ainz Ooal Gown, these platinum and gold coins would simply become Ainz's personal collection. Unspent gold coins were no different from stones.

Hill's empty eyes lingered on the ledger for a moment before she suddenly spoke.

"Actually, there is a way."

Rune raised his head.

Hill's voice was flat, as if he were reading an unimportant report: "As for the Holy Kingdom, you can send as many gold coins as you want, just ask."

She paused, her brown eyes looking at Rune.

"You know that."

Rune's gaze fell on the thick stack of ledgers on the table, his fingertips tapping lightly on the surface, making a rhythmic sound.

"Hill," his voice was calm, yet carried an undeniable certainty, "don't say things like that again."

Hill tilted her head, her listless brown eyes fixed on Rune, as if waiting for a more detailed explanation.

"We cannot openly have any connection with the Holy See." Rune closed the ledger, stood up, and walked to the window. "It would arouse suspicion."

Hill paused for a moment.

"Or," Hill said, his voice still calm, "you could stop printing your books for free."

Rune paused for a moment, then looked down at the stack of books piled on the other side of the table.

The title page of "The Travels of Aindora" features the outline of distant mountains.

The cover of "The Adventures of Ian the Adventurer" has been read so many times that the edges are slightly curled.

The collection of fables and proverbs, the thinnest of them all, is the one that has been reprinted the most times.

These books have no fancy bindings, and the paper is just the most ordinary material, but each one represents countless nights of hard work by Rune.

Rune carefully wrapped the seeds of enlightenment from his previous life in the strange tales of his travelogue, in the adventurers' thrilling experiences, and in those seemingly innocent and romantic allegorical stories, along with the belief in the four great gods, all of which were cleverly integrated into it.

Even temples would not object to such books.

To plant these seeds, the soil must first be cultivated.

Schools were built in every village within the territory. Children who used to only follow cows and collect manure now sat at simple wooden tables, learning to read and write from impoverished nobles they had invited.

This is too difficult.

In a kingdom like this, teaching nobles and teaching commoners are two different things; the former is respectable, the latter is disgraceful.

Therefore, the nobles willing to come were only those who were already impoverished and had nowhere else to turn. The priests were no better off; only the lowest and least respected among them would come here for a few gold coins.

Each platinum coin seemed to have grown wings and flew away.

But Rune never hesitated.

"This must be done." Rune's voice was soft, yet like an iron nail driven into wood. "This may be the future of humanity."

Hill tilted her head, and for the first time, a look of confusion appeared in her empty eyes. She had never seen Rune speak in such a tone.

It sounded like certainty, yet also like a prayer.

If it fails.

If Ainz Ooal Gown ultimately sweeps across this continent, if all of Rune Albein Draco's plans and preparations come to naught...

The morning light outside the window is just right, the farmland is neat and tidy, and wisps of smoke rise from the chimneys.

But beneath this picture, Rune knew he was burying something else. Something that wouldn't be destroyed with the fall of the territory. Something hidden in the minds of children.

Those words I know, those stories I've read, those principles I've pondered.

They will take root in the ruins.

Maybe a hundred years. Maybe two hundred years.

When the shadow of Nazarick finally fades, humanity will find that they are no longer the race that could only kneel and tremble before the undead.

They will stand up on their own.

Hill clearly couldn't understand this: "Are you talking about those storybooks that don't even record first-tier magic?"

Rune smiled, a smile that appeared particularly gentle in the morning light, yet carried a profound depth that was difficult to describe.

"Perhaps these books," he said, "can teach people to be even more powerful than those who can use tenth-order magic."

In the distance, the school bells continued to ring.

The children in the territory are still in class.

On the desk, the stack of books lay quietly in the morning light.

The lettering on the cover shimmered slightly in the light.

A collection of fables and proverbs.

On the opened page, there was a line of small print:

"Thinking is mankind's oldest and most powerful weapon. It requires neither martial arts nor magic, but only a mind that refuses to be bound."