"My Lord, all the coal briquettes and iron ore on the market in Brambleford have been purchased by me. The Goldwynd family said the next batch will take some time."

The last cart of coal briquettes arrived at the Armory, and Bjorn reported the situation to Simon.

"How much silver was spent in total?" Simon asked.

"Two hundred caps."

Simon winced in pain, as if a piece of his flesh had been cut off. Back in his dormitory days, his nickname had been ’The Miser.’ "Why are coal briquettes and ore so expensive?"

Bjorn forced a bitter smile, not daring to respond.

In his opinion, this was entirely Simon’s fault.

When Simon first arrived in his domain, the esteemed Prince quickly mingled with the local aristocratic youths.

He spent his days carousing with these privileged young men, indulging in debauchery and bullying the common folk.

These aristocratic youths, knowing that Simon was not favoured by the emperor and was short on funds, generously showered him with money, earning his Favor.

However, their intentions were far from pure. Soon, the mining rights of Brambleford’s mountains were sold to these aristocratic families at dirt-cheap prices by Simon.

Among them, the Goldwynd family of Brambleford secured the most mining rights, and the coal briquettes and iron ore on the market all came from their mines.

"My Lord, you’re mistaken to blame our Goldwynd family. The mines in Brambleford are fifty miles away, and with no water transport available, we have to rely on horses and porters, which doubles the cost. If we don’t make a small profit, our family won’t survive."

At that moment, a frivolous voice sounded from outside the door, and in walked a handsome man dressed in a blue silk robe and cloud-patterned boots.

However, the man’s face was pale, and he appeared somewhat frail.

"Isn’t this Walter Goldwynd?"

In Simon’s memory, this Walter was the eldest son of the influential Goldwynd family in Brambleford and the first among his circle of dissolute friends in Brambleford, one of the so-called ’Four Musqueteers of Brambleford’ in the eyes of the common people.

"Greetings, Your Highness!" Walter gave a slight bow to Simon, holding a paper fan and cupping his hands from a distance.

"At ease." Simon raised his hand.

He was no longer the original Simon, but the memories of the previous Simon’s fondness for Walter still influenced him.

This was similar to how his memories of Baldwin also affected him, but these were all preconceived notions.

Now that he was no longer the old Simon, he could have chosen to ignore Walter. However, he understood that taking a populist approach at this time was inappropriate.

Because now he needed to unite all forces that could be united to deal with the real enemies. The local aristocratic families were merely internal conflicts within the domain.

Moreover, they held significant value for him.

"Your Highness, I merely went to Greybrook to check some accounts. Little did I expect that upon my return, I would hear of Your Highness personally capturing thirty reaver cavalry. Truly admirable, truly admirable." Walter sighed, his face filled with reverence. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

"You flatter me, Walter. It was just a stroke of luck. Those reavers stumbled in by accident." Simon had an attendant bring a chair for Walter and invited him to sit. "Walter, have you just returned to Brambleford?"

"Indeed. My father mentioned that Your Highness has been purchasing large quantities of coal briquettes and iron ore these past few days. He sent me to inquire how much more you might need."

Simon chuckled inwardly. Walter’s words were merely an excuse. His real purpose was likely to find out what these coal briquettes and iron ore were being used for.

"For now, this should suffice. I just needed some materials for the Armory to create a few small gadgets. If I need more, I’ll certainly reach out to you."

This time, Simon had purchased a full ten tons of iron ore and a considerable amount of coal briquettes. These materials were simply for the craftsmen to practice with.

"Of course, of course." Walter smiled.

Based on his understanding of Simon, he knew Simon wouldn’t lie to him. After a pause, he suddenly leaned closer and whispered. "Your Highness, to express our gratitude for your protection of Brambleford, my father is hosting a banquet at our home tonight. Miranda has been missing you dearly these past few days."

The sugar-coated bullet had arrived. Simon’s expression turned peculiar.

In the Eldorian Empire, banquets hosted by aristocratic families were notoriously chaotic, often no different from brothels.

Apart from dining, the families would typically bring out their more attractive maids to entertain the guests and hosts.

Walter was particularly fond of such affairs. In the past, when Simon spent time with him, such activities were unavoidable.

The ’Miranda’ he mentioned was one of Simon’s former lovers.

"Well..." As a man, it was natural to feel tempted. But right now, Simon truly had no desire to attend.

As the saying goes. "He who eats from another’s hand is bound by their will." Every time the Goldwynd family hosted a banquet, they would inevitably make demands at the last moment.

Simon was no fool. If this continued, the domain might as well be renamed the Goldwynd family’s domain.

Seeing Simon’s hesitation, Walter gave him a knowing look. "I heard that Her Majesty the Consort has gifted Your Highness two beauties. Has Your Highness become so enamoured that you’ve forgotten our Miranda?"

"Walter, you know how it is." Simon played along.

Walter’s face showed envy as he sighed. "What a pity. Searching all of Brambleford, I doubt we could find beauties to rival Joan and Ysabeau. Your Highness is truly fortunate. When might I have the chance to..."

Simon’s expression instantly darkened. Walter was a notorious lecher in Brambleford, and now he had the audacity to set his sights on Simon’s own maids. He was truly bold, even coveting them.

"Walter, Joan and Ysabeau are Her Majesty’s personal maids!" Simon said sternly.

Walter, whose mind had been filled with images of Joan and Ysabeau’s graceful figures, suddenly snapped back to reality. Seeing the dangerous glint in Simon’s eyes, a cold sweat broke out on his forehead.

His earlier words could be considered treasonous.

"Your Highness, please forgive me. I was being foolish." Walter said cautiously, forcing a smile.

Simon snorted coldly. The influence of the aristocratic families in Brambleford was significant. While he could certainly discipline them, doing so would inevitably weaken his domain. Therefore, his current strategy was to use them as much as they used him.

For example, he still relied on them for coal and iron.

As for Walter, if this had been the old Simon, he might have indulged him. But now, under the new Simon, Walter had hit a wall. He was merely speaking in the same manner as he had with the old Simon.

"No matter. Please inform your father that I won’t be attending the banquet tonight." Simon said, effectively dismissing him.

Walter, being a shrewd man, realized that Simon was no longer following the old script. "In that case, I shall take my leave."

After seeing Walter out of the Armory, Simon continued teaching the craftsmen how to build and use lathes.

Bjorn listened intently. Although what Simon was explaining was entirely new to him, he found that he could understand it perfectly.

Moreover, images of these lathes began to form in his mind. Gradually, the manufacturing process of the lathes became clear to him, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

By evening, the necessary knowledge had been imparted. The detailed manufacturing process from the system had been fully transmitted. All that remained was for the craftsmen to put it into practice.

[Knowledge transfer for lathe complete.]

[Influence +2]

[Creativity +2]

As the saying goes. "Talking without practicing is just empty talk." Turning technological knowledge into tangible products would still take time.