The fishermen murmured among themselves. They were utterly bewildered.
"How exactly do we stop the fish from rotting, my lord?" one of them asked, scratching his bearded chin.
I did not answer immediately. Instead, I turned to the giant former sailor.
"Before I explain that, Roberts, I need intelligence," I said. "Tell me about our marine ecosystem. And tell me the exact boundaries of this monopoly Balan village holds over the waters."
Roberts crossed his massive arms. He looked out toward the crashing waves.
"The waters right off our coast are tricky," Roberts rumbled. "The seabed is choked with sharp coral reefs and filled with strange, bony fish that no one can eat. Plus, the water is infested with useless green weeds. The men call them pests."
I raised an eyebrow. "Green weeds? Are you talking about seaweed?"
"Seaweed? What in the world is that?" Roberts frowned, looking genuinely confused. "We call it the green snake weed. It tangles our nets and chokes the shallow waters. It is completely useless."
I had to suppress a grin. Useless? They were sitting on a goldmine of coastal foraging.
"And what about your fishing boundaries?" I pressed.
Roberts pointed a thick finger toward the horizon. "There is a small island about thirteen kilometers out. That is our absolute limit. Even if we stay within that line, Balan's patrol boats constantly intimidate us. They threaten to sink our rafts. Because of that, the men are terrified. They only dare to fish near the shallow shore."
I nodded slowly, analyzing the logistical nightmare.
The geography of our own beach did not help either. The sandy shore was long and sloped too gradually into the sea, making it impossible for boats of any real size to dock directly. Because of this, the fishermen had to navigate their small rafts into the river mouth to find a safe harbor to cross or park.
I closed my eyes for a brief moment, formulating the perfect strategy. When I opened them, my decision was absolute.
"Listen closely," I announced, commanding their full attention. "I am dividing you into three dedicated task forces."
The men straightened up.
"Team One will be the primary fishermen," I continued. "You will take the boats out. Your only objective is to catch as many edible fish as humanly possible. Do not worry about the patrols today. Just fish."
"Team Two," I pointed to the younger, leaner men in the crowd. "You will be the divers. Your objective is not fish. I want you to dive into the shallow reefs and harvest as much of that green snake weed as you can carry. While you are down there, pry off any hard, gray shells attached to the rocks. Oysters."
A wave of confusion washed over the crowd.
"You want us to harvest the green snakes and the hard rocks?" a young fisherman asked, his face twisting in disgust. "Are those things even edible, Lord Fragha?"
"Just bring them to me," I commanded, projecting unwavering confidence. "I will personally prove their worth tonight."
"Yes, my lord!" the men shouted in unison, their doubts momentarily eclipsed by my authority.
"And finally, Team Three," I gestured toward the beautiful, black-haired girl standing beside me. "Miss Hana and I will remain here. We are going to build a specialized storage facility in the village warehouse to house your catch."
The briefing was over. The village mobilized.
The fishermen hurried down the steep, carved steps of the cliff, making their way to the riverbank. Small, weathered wooden docks sat over the rushing water, holding a modest fleet of battered rafts and small sailboats.
Team Two loaded up with woven baskets and thick nets. They hoisted the patched canvas sails, catching the strong, favorable ocean breeze.
I stood at the edge of the cliff, watching them sail out.
When they reached the coral-rich shallows, the divers did not hesitate. They plunged into the pristine water. Driven by a desperate need to survive and genetics naturally adapted to the coast, they held their breath for an astonishing amount of time, tearing the green snake weeds from the reef.
Meanwhile, the primary fishing boats sailed further out, heading toward the thirteen-kilometer marker near the small island.
With the fleet deployed, I turned back toward the village square.
"Alright, Hana," I said, rubbing my hands together. "We are going to build a refrigerator."
Hana groaned, throwing her head back dramatically.
"Are you serious right now?" she complained. "You are not going to give me a single moment to rest? I literally just arrived in this village, you know."
"There is no rest when your stomach is still empty," I replied smoothly, adjusting my cuffs with absolute class. "The people of this village need this to survive. And as their new magic user, they need you."
Hana let out a long, defeated sigh. "Fine. So, what exactly is this refrigerator? And what do you need me to do?"
"It is a giant icebox," I explained as we walked toward the village warehouse.
I detailed the blueprints in my mind. We needed a rectangular box, large enough to fit a fully grown adult lying down. It needed to hold a massive quantity of fish.
"First, we build the outer foundation," I instructed, pointing to a corner of the warehouse. "We will gather hard river stones. We do not have proper cement, so we will stack the stones using thick, wet clay. Once it dries, it will provide a solid, insulating shell."
Hana nodded, finally looking somewhat interested in the engineering aspect. We spent the next hour gathering stones and packing them with mud to slow our pace and ensure the foundation was perfect.
"Inside that stone shell," I continued, wiping dirt from my hands. "We will place a tightly fitted wooden box. That is our inner layer."
"And the third layer?" she asked.
"Ice," I smiled. "That is where you come in. We line the inside of the wooden box with thick blocks of ice. Three layers in total. Stone, wood, and ice. We top it off with a heavy, airtight wooden lid. It will trap the cold air inside and preserve the fish for weeks."
Hana crossed her arms, analyzing the plan.
"It is a clever design," she admitted. "But there is a tricky part. You would need me to constantly come back and cast ice spells every time it starts melting."
"Exactly," I said. "Which means you will be quite busy."
Hana smirked, a hint of pride flashing in her dark eyes.
"That will not be necessary," she said, waving her hand dismissively. "I can just craft a magic scroll. I will engrave it with an automated cooling spell and attach it to the inside of the box. It will maintain the temperature indefinitely."
She paused, tapping her chin. "Though, it will continuously drain a small portion of my mana to keep it active."
I looked at her, genuinely impressed by her magical ingenuity.
"Now that," I praised with a genuine smile, "is absolutely brilliant."