The rhythmic clattering of the horse's hooves did nothing to ease the sense of failure that was weighing on Marcus at the moment.

  This was the third day since his awakening—since the night that he averted Reginald's threat.

  After passing out, he awoke the next day feeling much better. Perhaps due to the introduction of mana into his body, he was finally able to move his legs, albeit shakily.

  Marcus did experiment with the knowledge of spells he was aware of, and he quickly found out that his mana capacity was barely enough to cast low-tiered spells.

  And he could barely last a minute.

  This was an obvious weakness, but it could be supplemented with Mana Crystals.

  After that, he rummaged through the system, wondering what “Achievement Points” were for, however, he was unable to come up with anything.

  Marcus also considered fishing out the spy among his vassals, but he held back.

  Unaware of how many they were, he didn't want to get one and alarm the rest.

  Even worse, fail to capture one and alarm all of them.

  At that time, he was happy that he had survived the threat and had recovered his body's mobility.

  But the joy he got from this recovery was soon doused and thrown in a ditch filled with disappointment and heartbreak.

  Why?

  Well, Marcus came to realize the impoverished state of his estate and how empty his coffers were.

  He barely had up to 25 staff left under his employment.

  Twelve of whom were knights who only remained because they were staying true to their oaths to guard his name until death did them part.

  However, Marcus came to realize that despite their honesty, and loyalty, they too were expecting his end to arrive sooner rather than later, hence their insistence on staying behind while the others left.

  And honestly, he couldn't afford them with how loose his pockets were.

  Despite his dejection, he was secretly pleased and grateful that they chose to remain true to their oaths.

  But this put a strain on him.

  Marcus couldn't bring himself to give them orders, lest he push them off the cliff of no return.

  Much to his relief, despite their grim sentiments, they willingly chose to accompany him and Bradley, a former tutor and the current Administrator of Agard in Marcus’s absence.

  A man well into his early forties.

  Under Marcus's request, Bradley was taking him around the city so that he could witness what its current state is…

  Or what's left of it.

  And from everything he had seen, Marcus had lost all hope.

  The territory he had spent his inheritance to save was dying again.

  Only this time, it was dying under his name.

  The majority of the buildings he had seen from the window of his carriage were dilapidated.

  Merely standing as proof that people once occupied their rooms.

  The population was nothing to write home about, with nothing but raggedly clothed people lying by the roadside.

  Some of them stared at his carriage with ferocious greed in their eyes, wanting to salvage whatever was worth a copper from it.

  However, they all had to reel in their greed at the sight of the six knights riding by the sides of the carriage.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Despite feeling somewhat safe, Marcus's heart carried a new baggage of guilt.

  Immense guilt.

  To the point where his eyes turned red. Taking a deep breath, he forcefully calmed his emotions.

  Agard’s agricultural status was never something to boast about in the past, but at least they could fill their stomachs with whatever little they had.

  Now, in its wake were barren and dried-up lands that could pass as an upcoming desert.

  I survived Reginald… just to see this?

  Marcus lamented.

  To say that he had forgotten about what he had experienced would be a lie.

  Rather, to maintain some semblance of rationale, he felt compelled to inspect his territory to take his mind off his… mind-boggling situation.

  Now, Marcus didn't know whether surviving that night was the best thing that happened to him.

  …

  “Bradley,” Marcus called out as his eyes continued to take in the sight of his hopeless lands.

  “Yes, Lord Viscount?” Bradley responded. His eyes held the same emotions that were present in Marcus's gaze.

  He too had tried all he could to sustain and protect the people of Agard…

  But, he had too few bones and the dogs that wanted a piece didn't care to share.

  “How did it get to this point?” Marcus asked.

  “My Lord…” the words were stuck in Bradley's throat.

  He, out of all, understood Marcus the most. Of all the people under him, of all the people in Agard and the kingdom, Bradley understood Marcus the most.

  After all, he was in the same mansion where the young Lord was born.

  One of the few stewards who had interacted with his parents when they were alive, and who chose to stay with Marcus when he was made a Viscount and assigned the Governor of Agard.

  It was very difficult for Marcus not to trust Bradley.

  Before Marcus took over this territory, Agard was already known as the land of the dead.

  It was well known as a land that was hard to cultivate and maintain.

  The cost to develop this part of the kingdom was too costly, and to many, unnecessary.

  However, this did nothing to reduce the positivity he had in him.

  Although he was only a young teenager by the time he took over, he had come up with plans that he felt could transform Agard's situation.

  Unfortunately for him, the cabals in Agard didn't like the addition of a head that they would have to bow to, especially one that was so young.

  Oh so many times did they try to stop his progress, but failed.

  Slowly, silver coin upon silver coin, Marcus managed to transform the agricultural situation of the city.

  At the cost of what little inheritance he received.

  At that point, this feat even garnered respect from his opposition.

  And with the other plans he had in store for the city, many of them jumped on his bandwagon.

  Mainly because there was a lot of silver to be earned had the plan come to fruition.

  But fate has always been an ambiguous fickle thread. Pull too eagerly and you'll be left confused. Pull too strongly and it'll snap, marking your end...

  Marcus began losing his mind, and it all went downhill from there.

  …

  Bradley didn't know what to say.

  And Marcus didn't fault him.

  “My lord, if we head towards the eastern parts of the city… there's still some inkling of proper civilization. Merchants and Nobles occupy most of that section, and they have maintained it in a sense.” Bradley said.

  He thought that Marcus had lost all hope as his eyes seemed dead.

  Unknowingly to him, Marcus had turned his focus to the translucent screen he summoned.

  In the midst of his emotional tug of war, Marcus was trying to think of a way to solve all his problems.

  He didn't just want to give up so easily.

  Though there were possible solutions he was able to piece together from his Arcane knowledge, he wasn't sure of them.

  More importantly, they require items and resources he wasn’t sure he could find or purchase.

  Then, it crossed his mind.

  He still had knowledge available to him that he hadn't learned.

  [Arcane Knowledge Available (Lv1). Advance Technological Knowledge Available (Lv1). Body Modification Knowledge Locked. Futuristic technological Knowledge Locked.]

  Unaware of what it entails, Marcus still wanted to try.

  [Advanced Technological Knowledge (Lv1): A curated repository of foundational scientific and engineering principles, containing schematics for basic mechanical devices, early industrial tools, energy conversion methods, and material processing techniques suitable for a pre-industrial society. Access grants theoretical comprehension, design blueprints, and operational concepts—practical construction depends on available resources, craftsmanship, and the user’s technical aptitude.

  Would you like to learn?]

  Yes!

  With a thought, a sea of information poured into Marcus’s mind.

  “Lord Viscount!” Bradley called out for the umpteenth time with a voice tinged with worry.

  He was scared that Marcus's condition was relapsing due to being unable to stomach the current state of Agard.

  Bradley shook Marcus a few times before he got a response.

  “Bradley, are you trying to scramble my brain?” With a firm push, Marcus freed himself from the man’s hands.

  “Thank goodness, you're alright.” With a sigh, Bradley tapped his chest.

  Calming his heart.

  “I thought… You weren't responding to my calls.”

  Marcus's lips parted into a small smile. He could guess what this steward of his was thinking.

  “I was just thinking intensely. I'm fine, Bradley. Let's head to the Eastern section.”

  The smile on his face seemed to have gotten wider.

  And Bradley couldn't help but wonder why with a worried expression.

  But he said nothing and passed a few words to the knight steering the carriage.

  Looking out the window, Marcus couldn't help but think; “Perhaps hope is not lost. With this much in my mind, if I still can't revive Agard, then I really deserve to die… wouldn't my siblings love for that to happen?”

  Marcus chuckled.