Chapter 86

Day 460 of Banishment: In Order to Return (1)
The uninhabited island is about to welcome the bountiful season of autumn.

… All over the island, earth and sand were being cut away, producing iron sand.

At the same time, in one part of the island—once an abandoned mine shaft—the sound of pickaxes has returned after nearly a hundred years.

Moreover, the island has changed shape slightly. The peak of a mountain has been leveled, making it resemble the head of a seated golem.

Two ropeways, running along what would be the golem's arms, continue to transport iron sand, golems, and various other materials, supporting the island's development.

… Day 460 of banishment.

Over the past six months, this island has undergone rapid development.

"Alright. Another Iron Golem has been added today. Ehehe…"

That night, Marylia reviewed the day’s progress and created a new golem.

With the efficiency of iron sand processing improving and iron ore extraction advancing, the production rate of Iron Golems had significantly increased.

Now, about two Iron Golems were being created daily. With their rapid production, labor shortages were no longer a concern.

The entire island was being maintained by the Iron Golems. Carrying a portion of Marylia’s knowledge and experience, they subdued even monsters, felled trees, harvested or replanted vegetation, and constructed new facilities—all advancing the island’s development.

Marylia occasionally gave direct instructions, but for the most part, she simply set a broad yet detailed goal: "Alright, let’s aim for something like this in the end." The Iron Golems then worked autonomously across the island.

Iron golems never tire. They can work continuously for 24 hours a day and are exceptionally durable.

… With over a hundred of them gathered, this island was effectively Marylia’s domain.

Yes! Marylia had ascended to the top of this island!

"The island's shape is… I see. So, it’s coming along like this."

Today, Marylia was receiving reports from her small Iron Golems.

The reports detailed the progress of the island’s reshaping.

These small, adorable Iron Golems had each tamed a wyvern, using them as mounts. They soared through the skies, periodically updating the island’s map.

Thanks to them, every transformation of the island was recorded. Comparing the latest map with the previous one, Marylia would discuss her thoughts—"This part still sticks out a little too much, doesn't it? Let’s shave it down a bit more"—as she spoke aloud to Jade… Of course, Jade never responded.

"Thank you. Well done. Now, please relay this information."

Once decisions were made, the small Iron Golems relayed them to the rest.

… Golems could understand Marylia’s will to some extent. However, contacting each of the widely dispersed golems directly would consume an impractical amount of mana.

Yes. Marylia now had over a hundred Iron Golems under her command. Simply maintaining them was already a bit demanding! Though, if she wore a necklace made of magic stones, she could probably handle more than twice that number…

Thus, she established a communication network: Marylia would issue commands to the small golems or the elite guard golems, and they would pass the orders to the others.

Since the small golems could fly across the island on wyverns, they acted as Marylia’s carrier pigeons.

Additionally, semaphore signals were used daily. The ringing of the central bell signaled the start of communication, allowing golems across the island to receive updates. These scheduled transmissions occurred twice daily—once before noon and again in the evening.

Thanks to this expanded network, Marylia had effectively taken control of the entire island. As its overseer, she had settled in a section of the ruined town at the island’s center.

Though she felt more attached to her original home, managing a golem-powered island was far more convenient from a central position. Therefore, she decided that she would only return to her original home once a week for a relaxing stay. …For those trips, she would ride in a basket carried by multiple wyverns, enjoying a leisurely flight.

Yes. Marylia had instituted a personal vacation policy.

Unlike the early days of her banishment, when daily labor was necessary for survival, nearly all tasks were now handled by Iron Golems. This allowed her to set aside designated rest days.

And… if she didn’t make a conscious effort to rest, she might catch another cold. To avoid repeating that miserable experience, she had implemented regular breaks.

The golems, too, had assigned maintenance periods. Even though they didn’t tire, taking time to clean off accumulated dirt and minor damage, as well as recalibrating their magic circuits, improved their efficiency and longevity. So Marylia mandated that each golem perform self-maintenance once a week.

As a result, the golems worked energetically every day. Watching them gave Marylia a renewed sense of vigor.

… And then. That morning, a small Iron Golem delivered a report.

"Oh my? What's the matter?"

The small golem had been flying toward the coast, where salt production, leather processing, and ocean surveillance were conducted.

"Mm-hmm... ‘Drifted ashore,’ huh?"

The small golem pointed to a piece of paper with writing. By indicating each letter one by one, it could communicate its message to Marylia.

"I wonder what washed up... Alright, let’s go."

Suspecting an unusual situation, Marylia immediately set off. Her wyvern-riding small Iron Golems swiftly carried her basket, and before long, she arrived at the coast.

As she gracefully disembarked, she approached a gathering—not of people, but of golems.

"What happened he— Oh nooo."

The sight before her made Marylia gasp.

Several human bodies lay sprawled on the shore.

It took her only a second to deduce their identities.

First, she examined the most finely dressed individual.

The fabric appeared to be traditional Fractalian weave, but the cut and poor tailoring suggested Baltorian craftsmanship. Likely, it was Fractalian fabric imported and sewn in Baltoria.

Judging by the accessories, the person was a noble. Marylia didn’t recognize them… but then again, she wasn’t particularly well-connected among Fractalian nobility. Still, the face resembled a Baltorian.

… In other words, an enemy.

But.

"… Oh, isn't this a corpse? Thank goodness~"

It was, in fact, a corpse. A fully deceased one.

Which meant—relief! Marylia lowered her raised pickaxe and smiled brightly.

… If it hadn't been a corpse, she would have had to kill it.

"Hmm… Looks like a Baltorian merchant ship sank nearby?"

Tilting her head, she examined the body more closely.

… When she flipped it over, she found sword wounds. Though swollen from seawater, the cuts suggested a curved blade—like the kind favored by pirates.

"… Attacked by pirates? Good grief~"

Rather than simply sinking, the ship was likely boarded and its crew slaughtered before being dumped into the sea. Sighing, Marylia muttered another "Good grief" She preferred the surrounding waters to be safer before she turned the island into a golem and made her escape.

Anyway.

The dead Baltorian noble was of no consequence. The problem was the other corpses.

"This one... is a slave, maybe?"

Among the washed-up bodies, many wore simpler or rougher clothing rather than noble attire.

"But this one has gauntlets… Hmm, an off-duty soldier?"

Observing the bodies, Marylia considered her possibilities. These corpses weren’t armored or armed, but that made sense—fully armored corpses rarely floated.

Given that, they could have been soldiers who happened to be out of armor, or whose armor had been lost.

… More importantly.

"This face looks familiar…"

She recognized one of the corpses.

"If I recall… this guy led the army I crushed at the border defenses, didn’t he? Or maybe a relative? They look alike..."

Indeed, one of the corpses belonged to a Baltorian soldier whom Marylia had previously defeated.

However.

"… But didn’t I kill this guy back then?"

That was the problem.

Marylia distinctly remembered using her Iron Golem horde to pummel this man to death.

… Yet here he was, washing up over a year later, relatively intact.

Which could only mean—

"Necromancy in Baltoria!? No way~!"
Coming to this conclusion.

What do you think about this chapter?