NOVPUBAs Kyle and his entourage crossed the final ridge and laid eyes on the village, a collective sigh of relief swept through the group.
The once-scared craftsmen looked ahead with weary but hopeful expressions.
Smoke rising gently from the chimneys, children running barefoot between cabins, and the scent of fresh bread wafting through the air—it all painted a picture of life, of security.
Bruce scanned the settlement, nodding in approval.
"It's changed a lot. It's hard to believe this place was just farmland and ruins not long ago."
He said with a soft grin.
Kyle gave a quiet nod, pride gleaming faintly in his eyes.
"It has grown… but we're just getting started."
Without delay, he led the group into the heart of the village.
As they entered, the villagers began emerging from their homes, smiling and bowing toward Kyle.
He raised a hand in greeting, stopping briefly to speak to the village elders and inform them of the new arrivals.
Orders were given swiftly—prepare temporary lodging in the western quarters, open the food stores, and ensure every craftsman and their family had something warm to eat and a roof over their heads before the sun set.
It did not take long for the efficient village to spring into action.
With the recent surge in resources, Kyle had ensured the village remained well-stocked and well-run in his absence, and the difference showed.
Within the hour, the newcomers had blankets, hot stew, and a safe space to rest their weary bodies.
Laughter started to rise from the makeshift rest areas, and the tension in the air visibly loosened.
With everyone settling in, Kyle finally allowed himself a moment of quiet thought.
Expansion had served him well thus far, but he knew true strength came not from territory—but from stability.
A village needed more than shelter and food to thrive. It needed knowledge, values, a future. And for that, he needed to build a school.
As he and Bruce walked around the village, discussing the next steps, Kyle brought up the issue.
"There's too little formal education here. Most of the lower classes never had the chance to learn. But if we don't fix this now, we'll keep producing laborers—not leaders."
Bruce frowned thoughtfully.
"You're not wrong, but it'll be difficult. Anyone with real teaching experience is likely tied to the nobles or wealthy merchants. Hiring someone from the outside might bring unwanted attention."
Kyle agreed.
"That's why we can't rely on outsiders."
Just then, a group of craftsmen nearby, overhearing the conversation, stepped forward.
One of the older men, his hands still stained with grease from earlier repairs, hesitated a moment before speaking.
"Forgive us, Young Master. But we might be of some help in that regard."
He began, bowing slightly.
Kyle turned his attention toward him with interest.
"We may not have had formal schooling, but many of us spent years working in merchant households or large city estates. We picked up some reading, math, and speech skills along the way—just by watching and doing."
The man continued further after he glanced at the others, who nodded in agreement.
"If we're given a bit of training, I'm sure we can pass those skills on to the younger ones."
Kyle raised an eyebrow.
"You're saying you're willing to become teachers?"
Another craftsman, a woman this time, stepped up.
"Not just willing, my lord—we're grateful. You saved us. Gave our families safety and dignity. Teaching the next generation would be an honor."
Kyle looked between them, then at Bruce, who gave a subtle nod of approval.
It wasn't a perfect solution, but it was a genuine one—rooted in loyalty and gratitude, not coin or contract.
And that made it far more valuable in Kyle's eyes.
"Very well. We'll set up a training program for those willing to become teachers. I'll handle the materials and curriculum personally."
He said finally.
The craftsmen bowed in unison, visibly moved by the trust being placed in them.
Later that evening, as the sun dipped behind the horizon and lanterns lit up the village paths, Kyle stood atop the central platform and addressed the village.
"From this day forward, this village will have a school. Every child will learn to read, to write, to think, and to lead. We will not remain shadows to the world above. We will build a new kind of future—together."
He declared, his voice steady and clear.
Cheers broke out, echoing through the quiet hills.
As news of the school spread through the village, the atmosphere shifted like wildfire.
People who had once walked with hunched shoulders and tired eyes now moved about with newfound energy.
The idea that they—or their children—could learn to read and write lit a fire in their hearts.
For many of them, it was a dream long buried under generations of poverty and oppression.
Word spread especially fast among the craftsmen who had come from Venuce.
To them, formal education was more than just knowledge—it was power. They knew how valuable these skills were.
The ability to read contracts, write ledgers, or even pen a letter could change a life. And now, for the first time, they had a real chance at it.
"This is unheard of. To think someone of noble blood would offer this… and to us."
Whispered an older man, gripping his grandson's hand tightly.
Indeed, in many parts of the kingdom, it was either illegal or heavily frowned upon to teach the lower class such things.
Education was reserved for nobles and merchants, with the excuse that peasants had no need for letters or numbers. It was a system designed to keep people in their place.
Bruce, watching the buzz and excitement unfold, couldn't help but feel both hopeful and concerned.
Later that day, as he and Kyle walked along the path that led toward the fields, he voiced the worry nagging at the back of his mind.
"Young Master, do you think it's wise to do this so openly? Teaching the lower class to read and write… it's not exactly encouraged. If the wrong people hear of this, they might try to label it as sedition. Or worse."
Bruce began carefully. 𝖓𝔬𝔳𝔭𝖚𝖇.𝔠𝔬𝖒
Kyle didn't respond right away.
He simply looked out over the growing village, watching as children ran between homes with makeshift quills and bits of parchment, already pretending to be students.
At last, he said calmly.
"I'd rather face the wrath of nobles than raise a village of obedient illiterates."
Bruce blinked.
"If I want loyal and capable subordinates, I need people who can think, calculate, and understand what I'm saying without having everything spoon-fed to them. I don't want a village of laborers. I want a village of leaders."
Kyle continued,
Bruce gave a small, impressed smile.
"That's a dangerous mindset. What if these people rebel in the future…or worse, decide to leave and work somewhere else."
"Then that's fine as well. If these people are to be my limbs in the future, then I would rather them be useful to me in anyway that they can be."
Kyle replied.
This was not the time to hesitate. Getting his people up and ready was more important to him.
After all, he could not ignore a harvest for the fear of a few rotten tomatoes.
