I didn't see much of Trisaldan and company for the next few days. I was too busy shoring up everything I had to do more than pass meaningless pleasantries as I went about my daily routines. I was, as always it seemed, stretching myself thin with a sort of hectic pace that I never would have matched back on Earth. There was always so much to do, to focus on, and thanks to my Stamina reserves I was always at the peak of energy levels. This would tend to drive anyone onwards, but even so -- even with the assistance of my seven minions and the many hands of the manuals, I was well into my limits just keeping everything in motion.

I felt ever increasingly certain that I wouldn't be thrilled at all with how the coming rain season would treat me and mine, so I had my homunculus minion that was overseeing the tunnel production take the extra steps of rearing up another four ant queens and associated drones, to install them maybe once every twenty kilometers along the path between my two installations. This was something of a risk, given I hadn't actually ensured the ants themselves couldn't go feral, but without the growth lamps nor access to shelfruit any feral colonies wouldn't be able to populate at even an appreciable fraction of the rate my tame ones did, nor would they be able to sustain themselves in larger numbers without noticeably stripping the food sources in their vicinity. Still, I'd want to eventually set up patrols to ensure no colonies were forming unsupervised in the future. But that was tomorrow me's problem, and tomorrow me had damned well better be better off than today me or I would be quite wroth.

The point behind adding those additional hives was less about speeding up the digging of the tunnel -- though it would have that effect -- and more about having a gravelled and drainaged surface route between the mining colony and the manor, as that could be done in a matter of days. Well, weeks, but the point stood. The hope being that the ants would be sufficient to patrolling said surface route against possible stray or nomadic wildlings and aggressive animals in general, as well -- ensuring the supply route between the two end points doesn't get cut off should one of these undercysts form somewhere between my two bases, as now seemed quite likely given what I'd learned from my pointy-eared guests.

In addition, I was also taking steps to draw more alchemically-treated iron wire from the stocks being sent over, in order to have it properly installed as lightning rod lines before the storms came. Not knowing the actual heat tolerance of the metal I was working with, nor how much would actually be needed -- I just knew thanks to my Deciduous Survival "tech" that the storms would be intense, and fairly frequent -- I was perhaps going overboard on the side of caution with this setup. But better to have and not need than to need and not have. After all -- what if there were lightning-breathing dragons or something in those storms? This whole world was apparently a bit of a death trap like that.

And that pleasant thought brought me up to the next item that was taking up a significant portion of my time: training squads of my Guardians and Hunters to work together on standardized patrols around both my manor and the mining colony. That, and trying to design better defenses for both than the largely passive arrangements of the dry most and antcrete wall. The major flaws I could foresee in my arrangements were that I had no meaningful standoff capacity beyond short range. My current strategy was to rely on anything attacking the walls being swarmed in high numbers of warrior ants, while my hunters and Guardians burned anything that got to the actual walls. Which… wasn't really all that bad a strategy, assuming it worked.

But it did have limitations, in that it would only really work well against moderate numbers of middling sized creatures, and ones without strong defenses against soft attacks. Anything like a tortoise or with tough scales, or like an elephant, and they'd push through. Anything with numbers much like what the alfar could bring against me would be able to pull a pincer maneuver; draw out my defensive creatures in one area and sneak through in another.

So that's what I focused on trying to design solutions to. I already had dart launchers; stationary gatling-style ones affixed to guard towers could be manned by Guardians easily enough. With their larger size, they could even draw on multiple flame-fueled clockwinder crystals to have a higher rate of fire, and a larger effective range with a larger dart -- more like a crossbow bolt, maybe firing once a second instead of once every five seconds like the dart launchers on my Guardians' harnesses. Having one such tower at each gate should help against any larger critters that might show up.

I'd also set up spring and pulley catapults to launch a sort of incendiary grenade -- basically just oil-soaked reed fluff surrounding a small heat crystal with an impact trigger, surrounded by a simple pot of oil. Pot bursts on impact, heat crystal ignites fluff, fluff ignites loose oil. Training brain caste ants to reload and fire the pots was easier than I'd thought it would be. I intentionally didn't use Controllers to ensure the alfar couldn't sabotage the catapult operators. They'd have lousy aim, but given that I made three of the things for each gate, and that they had more range than anything I'd yet made… I wasn't too worked up over the issue. They would be most effective in scenarios best described as "target rich environment" anyhow.

I considered more complex schemes like automated clockwork pickets or adding stabbing mechanisms to the walls, but nothing I could really come up with seemed to be anything more than a gimmick or else would require too much manual intervention to work well, and those were detracting enough that I decided it wasn't worth the effort.

~~------------~~

Another thing I worked on during that interval -- and yes, it still struck me as odd that I was able to split my attention to truly multitask via the Controlled manuals under my, well, control -- was something I'd had to try very hard to ignore not having real access to all this time. Soap. Now that I had access to the basic ingredients, all that was left was working out effective methods of actually making it. Happily, this wasn't something I was completely clueless on; my "conventional" Tech Era knowledge having built up to the Classical Era, I had knowledge of various methods of ancient soap-making. The real challenge came in implementing specifics in my exact circumstances and that would work out will with my toolbase. And that wouldn't leave me smelling like roasted acorns.

Of course, I had to kick that up a notch or two from there just because I knew from my old world's experiences that I could take things a step or two further and make specialized soaps for different purposes, though in the here and now I couldn't rely on the chemistry knowledge of my old world, not because it wouldn't work here, but because I didn't remember enough of it to unlock it here. Which, mind you, I had tried to do. My archival library now contained a graph with a rather more complete Periodic Table than I'd anticipated being able to fill out, in fact, though there were still gaps there that irked me.

More to the point, however, I was able to work out some decent alchemically based solutions to be able to produce a passable laundry detergent, shampoo, and basic hand/body soap. This in addition to the more Classical era lye-based Castilian soaps which honestly were harsh enough for use as floor cleaners. Recording all of this work for the library, in fact, netted me something I had hoped to gain but hadn't focused on for some time.

<< Requirements met. Specific tech level unlocked: Standard Sanitation. >>

I didn't even get a meaningful headache as a result of the new information pumping into my skull! Though I did realize that I'd need extra methods for properly sterilizing relevant surfaces, something I'd ironically completely forgotten about, which lead to my next bump up.

<< Requirements met. Specific tech field unlocked: Basic Optics. >>

Why the optics? Simple enough -- I'd run some experiments with prisms to confirm that UV light was still a thing here, and so that I could create UV Quartzite lamps for the relevant areas. The kitchen and my alchemy labs got minor overhauls, and I had to program new manuals to ensure my food stores were kept free of infestations with the new methods I now had access to -- though really there's only so much one can do with an icebox and a root cellar. But still. Principle of the thing.

~~------------~~

It happily wasn't until I had more "free time", a week or so later when all of this was done, that I was instead able to personally focus on my new Arcanism research project -- which had netted me very little in the way of results, despite having resulted in the deaths of five braincaste ants in rather surprisingly gruesome ways, as well as three braincaste that had successfully managed to bind an ishuar to themselves which at least demonstrated that the project could, in fact, do what I wanted… if not with as little moral cost as I'd hoped, though the braincaste ants really didn't seem to mind the cost from the little I could successfully discuss with them using the sign language.

I said "happily" there more because I was finished with the improved defenses before the alfar contingent not only returned, but followed the gravelled (and somewhat antcreted) path from the mining colony to my manor. There were, this time, six hundred of the wood elves. Six hundred. And I could see, thanks to the longer vision of the drone ants I had patrolling the manor, that this time they clearly had someone who was a "dignitary" of the sort that Annaka wasn't. So a bigwig. Great.

I started hastily signing to my minions via the nearest Controlled manuals to them.[Get the welcome wagon out. Time to make a good impression. Try not to spook the point-ears.]

[Master. I obey.]

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

[Master. I obey.]

[Master. Stand down defenses?]

Well. That was odd. Unprompted creative thought in a homunculus? I'd been trying to encourage it but I had no idea how well it was working.

I didn't hesitate for a second in my response. [Not for now. Keep them sharp but don't get trigger happy. I'm getting prepared to meet them. I'll take care of informing our guests that someone's coming.]

You never think about little things like how someone might emote with sign language until you witness it, but I could literally see the chirpy happiness in my homunculus's next words to me. [Master. I obey.]

With that bit of unanticipated enlightenment out of the way, I made my way to the impromptu training ground where Trisaldan et.al. were practicing in a group formation against a pair of Guardians and six Hunters. The overall tone I saw was actually surprisingly playful, and equally surprising was the fact that my Guardians' more basic signing was actually understood not only by the Hunters, but also to an extent by the three alfar. Sadly, I had to interrupt their play.

Waving my arm up in greeting as I walked up to the trio, I called out with a casual tone to my voice. "Ho there, friends. I was wondering if you knew whether we were expecting friends any time soon?"

Eildan and Orelme planted the butts of their spears in the dirt beside themselves as they shook their heads in denial. Trisaldan, however, muttered something under his breath with a displeased look on his face. With a more carrying but still quiet tone, he asked, "Any chance you can describe who it is?"

I nodded, as that was an entirely fair request, and proceeded to close my eyes and describe what I was seeing through the scout ants. There were roughly five hundred of what were fairly clearly wardens like the three next to me, but they were also clearly playing escort to an entourage of roughly eighty individuals who seemed to be subordinate to twenty more that were dressed in much finer looking arrangements of fine-woven leaves and grasses, a pair of which -- one male and one female -- also seemed to have some sort of ornamental wooden armor that was more grown than shaped. It even still had its bark. The real oddity was that it was clearly ornamental -- it covered shoulders and upper arms, but not the chest or stomach, for example. The gauntlet the woman wore didn't cover her fingers at all but did the back of her hand. And so on.

Trisaldan nodded to me in a sharp manner. "Well, that's pretty blatant, then. You're about to be host to the Lord and Lady of the Third March, and … by the sounds of it, likely the Duke to whom they answer. I suspect there'll be a few trader barons as well in there. I … feel it's only appropriate to warn you that all twenty of those you described are likely ishuata."

I smiled gently. "Well then. They'll be here at their current pace in about… I really need to make better timepieces, damnit -- oh, sometime just past noon. You've got time to get yourselves cleaned up and presentable. I'll be back out myself once I've done the same."

With that, I walked off towards my little house nestled under the big tree that I have come to truly consider my home, keeping my demeanor far calmer and assured than I in truth felt. This was going to be a whole thing. I just knew it.

~~------------~~

It struck me as I scrubbed down under my shower, while simultaneously observing my homunculi setting up the series of tents outside of my walls and the platters with the various meal offerings my comparatively limited range of food sources could with clever purpose be engineered into, that I had actually climbed a long way towards the proper comforts of civilization. There was, of course, no way I could host all six hundred of my approaching visitors. I'd be lucky if my arrangements could handle a tenth of their number.

But even that much was, frankly, impressive as all hell for a guy who less than four months earlier had woken up naked and alone in a forest on a planet for which he had no name. The whole getup I was observing being deployed reminded me rather heavily of depictions of travel camps meant for Roman nobles. Which admittedly was the point of the exercise -- but that made it no less impressive considering it represented a rush order assembled from the various materials I'd stockpiled to date, and didn't even put an irretrievable dent in said supplies. Well, excepting the burlap used for the tarps and floor mats on which rested (descaled fish-hide) leather rugs but even then I had plenty more where that came from. I did have to resort to using oil lanterns inside the tents, though, as I didn't make a habit of leaving light crystals lying around in spare enough to use them except as highlights.

And so that was the scene that my unannounced guests marched upon in a rather impressive formation -- myself standing before the gate to my manor, with dual over-sized tents on either side of the antcreted roadbed that approached said gate, with the fifty-foot-tall towers on either side of the gate visible behind the twenty-foot-tall stone walls. In formation with me were my four most formidable Guardians, each with a pair of Hunters crouched beneath them. I myself had chosen to forego any visible armor, though I was wearing the blackhide vest under my shirt and had my heat pistol and black ossium cutlass clipped to their places on my belt. I stood square-shouldered and leaning ever so slightly back to make it clear that I knew what was going on and was supremely confident about what was happening. I was nothing of the sort, but letting them know that from the outset was just asking for trouble I didn't want and definitely didn't need.

I'd timed things so that I would be standing waiting for the approaching contingent just before they came into line of sight -- easy enough to do considering their formation march slowed them down enough to pull it off. It took them another half an hour or so to reach decent earshot. Bloody grandstanding.

Worst part of it was that I knew I'd have to reciprocate to be taken seriously, so I had to go bombastic. Calling out with a clear and ringing voice, I spoke to them despite the distance. "Hello, Alfarhame contingent! Be welcome on my lands, and you come as guests! Begone, if you come for foul purpose! Declare yourselves, and be known to me!"

And with that I'd established that I was considering this area to be my "turf". Would go over like a lead balloon if they decided to really push the issue, but I needed a starting point to work from and "friendly but territorial" gave me wiggling room. Didn't change the fact that I could very shortly be needing to flee for my life -- while I trusted the loyalty of my minions and critters, discounting the ants they were outnumbered in total, and at their best they weren't equal on a one-on-one basis. The defenses would help but… I couldn't stay holed up in the manor indefinitely barring stranger developments. Which… granted… I could probably achieve. Given long enough.

After a few moments, however, one of the Warden types was sent ahead of the rest, making his way with a moderately long loping jog until he was halfway between my home and the army at his back. "We are the core Wardens of the house of the Third March of the Treatied Woods. We come to more formally establish relations with you, Sir Voidwalker. The Lord and Lady grant you the honor of housing them and escort in your finest accommodations for this period."

It was going to be one of those days, I could see. "Your honor means nothing to me. You get what accommodations you brought with you. Anything else you want from me, you ask nicely for it. But I can at least shelter some of you from the sun, as these tents demonstrate. You lot likely will want to gather reports from the trio you left behind with me. I'll be sending them out, soon enough. Oh, one other thing: do not camp on the stone path. It is for traveling, not resting. My pets are very dutiful and might just get upset with you if you block their way."

My voice was fairly calm, with the exception of the bitterness I injected into the mention of asking nicely for things. Regardless, I could see that my response had confused the elf. He seriously seemed to think that I would jump at the idea of having the nobles take over my damned house and leave me in the cold. A house I'd built with my own two hands. Surreal.

Regardless, the Alfarhame Warden trotted back to his little army, and I signed to one of my guard Guardians, [Send out the elves].

The seventy pounds of spider and armaments signed an affirmation back at me -- more like a salute than any actual words, but the meaning was there -- and skittered silently back into the compound, returning shortly with Trisaldan and company. I made a point of only mildly glaring at him, just enough to carry my meaning. "That lot seem to have some unproductive ideas about how we're going to work out being friendly, Trisaldan. You've been around me enough by now to at least give them a good sense of what attitudes will piss me off. I'm sending you three off to them so that they don't screw the pooch. I know they'll want you to tell them everything you can that you've learned from and about me, including how defended this position is, so… by all means, do so."

He grimaced a little at my words. "You won't think ill of us for it?"

I laughed easily. "I'm counting on it. Always have been. Word to the wise, though -- I've been intentionally holding back on some things I can do. Things that… well. Magics of steel and steam, you might say. Just as versatile as what I've done with flesh and plants. I have my reasons, but… I can do it all in hours if I must."

His eyes widened at my last "parting shot", as the implication that I could double down on the things I'd already shown them sunk in.

It was a bit of a bluff, which he didn't have the means to know… but there was a seed kernel in it if truth. I didn't have the knowledge for the more arcane or magical sides of steampunk lore, but the designs for steam turbines alone would unlock a fair amount of new technologies. Of this I was quite certain. While I’d been avoiding it if for no other reason than that I could expect a “Era” tech unlock of that level to floor me into unconsciousness for who knows how long and I wasn’t enough of a masochist to enjoy that prospect, I also knew that if it was what I had to do in order to maintain my personal independence, then that was exactly what I’d do. Barring extreme capabilities I simply couldn’t counter at all, the defenses I currently had in place would at least be enough for me to get through that unlock, should things break down into true hostiliy.

The thing of it was, I was sure Trisaldan at least knew that I was willing to go to that level if that was what it took -- and that he would report this back to the Alfar nobles. While this would reveal a great deal of my overall capabilities to them, which my inner OpSec-savvy self was crying over, the fact was that at the level of knowledge the point-ears had about me, any increase in their understanding of me could only benefit me -- what I needed now more than my ability to lay traps and surprise them was to get them to comprehend me and my ambitions.

I watched Trisaldan and friends make their way across the antcrete-paved stone roadway I’d had created back to their own people with a mixture of trepidation and determination. This next step would make or break my ability to stay here. But one thing was for certain; there’s no such thing as putting a genie back in a bottle. My period of living as fully independently as I had been was officially over.