Lord: My Shop Connects to Modern Times

"Sir, is this really alright?"

After Lia left, Leon stepped forward to Lynn and cautiously asked him.

Leon overheard Lynn and Lia's entire conversation.

In truth, he didn't think Lynn had done anything wrong; on the contrary, it made him admire his lord even more.

However, doing things this way would be tantamount to offending Viscount Gavin to the death.

While commoners may not know some of the inner workings of the nobility, Leon does know to some extent.

Having just settled in the Southern Territory, they have already offended a nobleman of equal rank. Leon still felt that his lord had been somewhat inconsiderate in making enemies out of thin air.

Leon was not good with words and didn't know how to advise Lynn. He paused for a moment before speaking again:

"Viscount Gavin won't let this go so easily."

"I know," Lynn said calmly.

"Then why...?"

"Because even without Leah, there would be 'Lisa,' 'Rim,' or some other 'fugitive' coming here."

Lynn sighed.

Upon hearing this, a glint flashed in Leon's eyes.

"My lord... do you mean... we are destined to fight Viscount Gavin? Is this just an excuse?"

"Of course, haven't you noticed, Leon?" Lynn crossed his arms and said casually, "The monsters that just arrived here, and the even more frequent monster hordes since returning from Earl Lehman's place."

"And the monsters' attack frequency is so regular, but this phenomenon isn't observed elsewhere. This is clearly a sign they don't want us to develop quickly!"

Leon's expression instantly turned serious. He had heard that there were no monster attacks in Earl Lehman's territory, but he had never considered the possibility that it was caused by humans.

After all, their own lord was already miserable and poor enough, so what else could they possibly want?

Could it be that there was some inside story behind the previous exile incident by the higher-ups?

Not daring to think too much about his lord's private affairs, Leon had essentially come to believe Lynn's suspicions, and he bowed slightly:

"Then, sir, what preparations should be made?"

"Just don't neglect daily training, especially the hunting teams in Bray, who need everyone to be proficient with compound bows and to keep up with training and practice on triple crossbows."

Although Lynn had a strong premonition that Gavin was coming, he couldn't be 100% sure that the other party would just charge straight at him.

However, having learned about many conspiracy theories in my previous life, it's never a bad thing to be on guard.

Leon's eyes narrowed, and he asked no further questions. He clenched his right fist and bowed, saying, "Yes, sir. I will make the arrangements immediately."

Lynn nodded, watched the knight turn and stride away, and stood there for a while longer.

The wind grew cooler, causing stray hairs to brush against his eyelids. He raised his hand to rub them, then turned and walked towards the construction site where a watchtower was being built.

Thorin was furious at a stone slab, spitting almost onto the young stonemason's face: "...Level it! I said level it! Are you stuffing stones in your ears?! It's at least a finger's width off! Once the cement dries, all the bricks on top will crack!"

The young stonemason, shrank back by his shout, frantically tried to hammer the paving stone in.

"Master Thorin," Lynn said.

Thorin turned around abruptly, and seeing it was Lynn, his anger subsided slightly, but his brows were still tightly furrowed: "My lord, you've arrived. Look at these... sigh!"

"How's the progress?"

"The two towers on the north side should be topped out by tomorrow," Thorin wiped the sweat from his brow and pointed south, "but the two corner towers on the south side are only just being built up. I'm afraid... the progress might not be able to meet your requirements."

"south……"

Lynn thought for a moment: "We can put the progress on the south side on hold. While we're finishing these two watchtowers on the north side, we can raise the wall over there a bit higher."

The situation was urgent, and Lynn was unsure when the other party would break off relations and bring troops to their doorstep. The wall construction was now complete, and only the height needed to be increased.

The town of Grayrock is bordered by an endless wasteland to the south, and then the border, so there's no need to worry too much for now.

Ironstone Fortress is located northwest of Grayrock Town. If an attack is to be launched, it will most likely come from that direction. The northern watchtower is of utmost importance.

Thorin's expression relaxed slightly, but the worry in his eyes remained: "My lord, is... something bad about to happen?"

Lynn didn't answer directly, but patted the old stonemason's dust-covered shoulder: "Prepare as if something bad is going to happen. Stone, wood, tools, if you're missing anything, just ask Martha or Lyon."

After he finished speaking, without waiting for Thorin to ask any more questions, he turned and walked towards the blacksmith's shed.

Before we even got close, we could hear a rapid, heavy banging sound, one after another.

The fire in the shed was blazing, making Haerjingchi's upper body glow red, and sweat streamed down his back.

He was swinging a sledgehammer, smashing a red-hot iron bar. A dozen newly forged arrowheads were hanging on a wooden frame next to him, their tips gleaming coldly in the firelight.

Rod was helping out nearby when Lynn stepped forward and raised his voice:

"Master Hal".

Hal didn't stop, he hit it three more times before immersing the arrowhead blank held in the pliers into the bucket of water.

With a "sizzle," white steam rose. He shook the water off his hands and turned around: "Sir."

"Can you guarantee the supply of arrowheads and spearheads?" Lynn asked directly.

"The arrowheads are fine, and we still have the iron. The spearheads are more difficult to make; we can only make about ten a day at most." Hal's voice was hoarse. "The giant arrows for the ballistae are even more troublesome; we need good steel, and the town doesn't have much in stock."

"Prioritize the arrowheads and giant arrows. We'll take care of as many spearheads as possible. I'll handle the steel," Lynn said.

"Furthermore, sharpen all the swords in stock, regardless of whether they are new or old. Those that are too rusty should be melted down and reforged."

The fine steel in the exchange shop wasn't cheap, but with minerals scarce these days, there wasn't enough time to mine and forge it. Lynn decided to grit his teeth and supply the blacksmith with a batch of good steel first.

It was completely dark when we left the blacksmith's shed.

Lynn arrived at the north wall, and Bray emerged from the shadows on the top of the wall, carrying a compound bow.

"grown ups."

"How's the west side tonight?"

"Everything is as usual, sir."

"Recently, I've asked the hunting team members on duty to keep a close watch at night."

"clear."

Seemingly sensing the tense atmosphere in the air, Bray nodded without asking any further questions.

After giving these instructions, Lynn turned to leave. The lights were still on inside the public treasury as she passed by.

Martha and Ida were facing a large wooden board covered with words and symbols, as if they were checking some kind of list.

Both girls were frowning, their expressions focused.

Lynn didn't go in to disturb them; she just stood outside the door and watched for a moment.

He walked back to the stone house and closed the door.

He sat down at the table and spread out the simple topographical map.

The charcoal pencil moved slowly across the surface, marking the possible directions of attack, estimating the distance, calculating the time needed for an early warning, and repeatedly going over the numbers of manpower, weapons, wall height, and food in his mind.

After an unknown amount of time, a very soft knock came from outside the door.

"Come in."

The door was pushed open a crack, and Martha poked half her head in, holding a ceramic bowl in her hand: "My lord, you haven't eaten anything tonight... I... I heated up a bowl of porridge."

Lynn then realized his stomach was terribly empty. He took the bowl; it was still warm.

"Thank you," he said.

Martha didn't leave immediately. Standing at the door, she twisted the hem of her dress with her fingers, hesitated for a moment, and then asked softly, "My lord... is... there going to be a war?"

Lynn scooped up a spoonful of porridge and put it in her mouth.

The taste was very ordinary, rye flour mixed with a little wild vegetables and minced meat, and a bit salty.

He swallowed before speaking, "Possibly."

Martha bit her lip: "Then... will we lose?"

Lynn looked up and saw the lamplight reflected in the little girl's eyes, the light trembling slightly within them.

Not wanting to frighten the little girl, Lynn smiled:

"Your lord will not lose, don't worry!"

Martha paused for a moment, then smiled with relief. She nodded vigorously, gently closed the door, and left.

After finishing his meal, Lynn went back to bed and lay down, his fingers stroking the family ring.

The rough vines and sword patterns left a blurry tactile sensation on my fingertips.