I woke up in my office chair, sunlight slanting through the tall window panes, cutting across the room in dusty gold. The faint scent of ink and parchment lingered around me. I sat still for a moment, letting the quiet hum of the manor settle in my ears.
Being in Leonard's body no longer felt strange—it was something I had done before. The stiffness in the shoulders, the weight of the coat, the steady thrum of command in the air—it all came naturally now.
Outside, the bells of Orshek rang, marking the start of another long day.
I called for Oswin and the clerks. Within minutes, the door opened, and they entered carrying scrolls and ledgers.
Oswin bowed lightly. "My lord, the report is ready."
"Begin," I said.
He cleared his throat, scanning the top page. "As of today, Orshek's population has increased to around two thousand four hundred. Many people from nearby villages have heard about us—about the safety, the food, the growing trade. Some are already on their way to join."
I leaned forward, fingers steepled. "That's faster than I expected. We'll need to adjust accordingly."
Oswin nodded. "Indeed, my lord. With the coming summer harvest, we must complete all ploughing and sowing within two weeks."
"Make it happen," I replied.
He hesitated, glancing toward one of the clerks. "It can be done… though it will be difficult. With the new population, we'll need to plough more land for more food."
I nodded. "So, what's the problem?"
The older clerk coughed lightly. "My lord, the issue is land ownership. Traditionally, lords assign land as private holdings. The old citizens of Orshek already have theirs, but these new people do not."
"Ah," I murmured. "And the village chief is the one who brought this up, I assume?"
"Yes, my lord," Oswin said. "He fears disputes will arise once ploughing begins."
I paused, thinking for a moment, then asked, "Is the citizen registry complete?"
One of the younger clerks stepped forward. "Yes, my lord. Every family, every occupation—recorded and sealed."
"Good."
I turned to the ledgers. "Tell me, Oswin—are the old citizens' lands evenly distributed?"
"Nearly so, my lord. Enough to sustain each household."
"Then perhaps," he continued, "if we give equal land to each new family, they'll be satisfied. Equality builds trust."
I leaned back, eyes narrowing slightly. "A good thought, but tell me—does every family have the same number of members?"
The clerk frowned, doing quick mental math. "No, my lord. Most have six to eight, some have four, and a few have twelve. But those larger families are few."
Oswin added, "And the numbers always shift—births, deaths, travelers coming and going."
I tapped the table thoughtfully. "This land isn't fertile enough to sustain everyone through farming alone. Many families rely on mining. If I give land only to farmers, the miners will feel neglected. And that will split the town."
Silence fell.
Then I said quietly, "All land should remain under the lord's control."
Oswin's eyes widened. "My lord… if you take the land back, the people will protest."
I smiled faintly. "Only if they think it's theft. But if it becomes law—and everyone benefits—they'll see it differently."
The next day, I gathered all knights in the courtyard. The air was cool, and mist still lingered over the training grounds. Elias stood at the front, hand resting on his sword, the others lined neatly behind him.
I looked at them one by one. "From this day onward, Orshek will have new laws. You are to explain them, enforce them, and ensure that no one misunderstands. These laws are the foundation of what we build."
Elias bowed. "We are your knights, my lord. We'll make the people understand."
I nodded and began reading from the parchment I had written at dawn.
"All lands within Orshek shall belong to the lord, and no individual may claim ownership. Only their houses shall remain their property."
"Each person will receive a new currency to buy food, goods, and tools."
I pulled out a small, cloudy white coin from my pocket and held it up. It gleamed softly under the sunlight.
"This is our new coin. It's made from tree resin mixed with a root starch found in local plants. Heated lightly and shaped by hand, it forms a durable, water-resistant disc with a hole in the center—easy to carry on a string. The tree and plant were specially grown by Natalia's magic, which ensures it cannot be replicated."
The knights murmured in awe as the light caught the faint swirl inside the resin.
"A small batch of these coins will be given to you," I said, "so you can show the townspeople and explain how it works."
"These laws will take effect at the start of next month."
"Each person will receive their coins through appointed managers, chosen by the people themselves for trust and transparency."
"If anyone wishes to buy land, build a house, or trade goods, they must use this coin as barter."
Elias raised a brow. "And what if a family has more mouths to feed than another?"
I looked at him. "Then they must work harder. Food will not be given equally to all. Every job will have its own value, and pay will depend on effort and skill. That is how the town will stay balanced."
The knights nodded one by one, understanding the system's fairness.
"Tell them," I continued, "that this is the will of the Divine Voice. A new age begins."
Later that day, in the workshop beside the manor gardens, I stood with Natalia and Gethrod, Orshek's apothecary. Natalia raised her hands, and a tree grew before us. A woodcutter gently applied a long cut, and resin began to flow. After several minutes, Gethrod mixed the resin with starch paste extracted from roots of a plant resembling sweet potato, heating it slowly to keep the resin liquid.
Gradually, the mixture thickened, forming milky white sheets that we later cut into coins.
"They'll last for years," Natalia said softly, inspecting one. "Light, strong, and beautiful."
I smiled. "And unforgeable. Just as planned."
Before leaving, I asked her to grow both the resin trees and starch plants in the manor's garden to ensure stable production.
As I watched the first pile of coins harden on the table, I thought quietly to myself:
This is the core of communalism—a world where all work for food, and food becomes the measure of worth.On Earth, gold backed every coin.Here in Orshek, food was my gold.
And now, with land and seeds under my control, I could grow as much gold as this world would ever need.