Genius Mage in a Cultivation World

Walking down the stage, Markus momentarily stopped to look back. 'After such an effective speech… Back in the Kingdom, I could take the rest of the day off…' With his eyes gravitating towards a gathering of the officers and other influential figures of the Gener clan, all Markus could do was to release a long sigh before hunting his head down and approaching the group.

"Great job at the stage." Already focused on a diagram Yelna continued to carve with a stick in the ground, Al praised his far descendant. 'Well, it still doesn't feel real.' Constantly plagued by his inner denial to accept the fact that he was interacting with one of the most legendary figures of his nation's history, Markus only nodded his head before looking down at the simple schematic.

"Forward camp?" Raising his eyes on the girl, Markus only received a nod in response. Just like he recognized from the mundane, square-based layout of the lines and blocks, what Yelna was drawing on the ground was one of the basic tactical structures adopted by the military engineers.

"Should I ask about it or…?" Noticing how immersed in the drawing Al was, Ation turned his head to the side before inquiring. Yet, as strange as his question could be, it was a consensus he worked with Markus as they tuned their respective language to a butchered mix that they both could understand.

Yet, that didn't mean Markus could suddenly share his knowledge of physic, theorem of matter, unified measuring metrics… Even though he had the proper words to do so, unable to explain the concepts themselves properly put a huge dent in their ability to communicate.

As such, whenever a problematic matter would arise that Markus ancestors would fail to understand, they would ask whether it was suitable for them to even receive the explanation. In the end, in the middle of nothingness while surrounded by hostile cities and possibly nations, confusing the top brass of the clan wasn't the greatest idea.

"It's fairly simple. In the future, the scale of the wars would grow to an unimaginable degree." Pointing his finger at the drawing on the ground, Markus explained. "A need arose to create secure camps for moving the foodstuffs and munition. This design is one of the universal ways of turning an empty plot of land into a secure outpost."

Taking a step back, Markus looked around before picking up a relatively straight stick from the foliage. Moving back to his spot, he started creating simple marks besides Yelna's diagram.

"Each of those marks means something. The small dot refers to living quarters, the cross means military areas, circle refers to economics and so on." After drawing five distinctive symbols, Markus then moved his stick above Yelna's diagram.  "Do you have any set on mind?"

Even though the entire diagram consisted of squares of various sizes and placed under different yet repetitive angles, the true magic of this schematic laid in the usage of all the open blocks. In other words, how one would fill the spaces between the lines marking the road was a true challenge in pulling out the most of such structure.

"We don't have our technology." With her hand suddenly stopping, Yelna just stood in her place while staring at her own picture. Only after a long moment her hand moved again, pushing the tip of her stick into the soft earth again. "I think we should go with a two-seven-three-one-one scheme."

Each of the numbers Yelna gave referred to a type of structure Markus outlined before. Three spaces for living, seven spaces for food, three spaces for military, and one space for economics and utility each.

"Still, it's hard to figure out such an unusual scenario." Brushing his hand against the short hair on his beard, Markus continued to calculate different possible layouts. As regretful as it was, there was no specific algorithm that would output the perfect solution for any given set of numbers. One had to come up with concepts on his own, always checking if the proposed setup fulfilled the requirements that the structure enforced.

"With so much space just for food… There is no other choice, we will need some sort of barrier." Staring down at the diagram, Markus bit his lips. As they were right in the middle of a huge forest, finding a relatively secluded spot where one of their future settlement flanks could rest entirely on some sort of natural barrier…

To say that it would be a challenging task would be a gross understatement.

"Guys, are you done speaking in your own circle?" Suddenly interrupting, Al reprimanded the two. Just like he pointed out, ever since the problem of the new village design appeared, they sunk into their own world of calculus and projecting.

"Ah, sorry. From what we see, we need some kind of barrier. A huge mountain, sea… Something that's too hard to cross for anyone desperate enough to attack a small village." Still rubbing his chin, Markus started to draw a slightly different diagram. Starting with a  long, thick line, he then added a gridded structure in form of a pyramid growing from the baseline he drew first. Past this step, Markus added nine angled squares, evenly spread across the entire outer ridge of the planned village.

"This thick line needs to be perfectly secure. Forest, small ravine, or even a river won't do. Once we find such a place, we can get a safe camp done within less than a week." Even with all the manpower that Al could operate with, settling a new village wasn't a simple task. From building all the necessary shelters and warehouses, through setting up the roads, dividing the farmlands, creating watchtowers, resistance chokepoints, and outposts…

'It's just like in the future. The more people are involved in something, the greater its scale will have to be.' Perfectly aware of this problem, Markus could only swallow a gulp of saliva. The problem of the logistic and evergrowing scale was something that he noticed all the way back in the academy when he just so happened to have history lessons right before the tactical adaptation course.

It was back then when Markus first realized that the armies equipped with swords and bows… Actually managed to move far quicker than modern forces equipped with cargo planes, trains, and eight-wheeler trucks.

The mirage of putting out fresh, well-fed, and disciplined troops on the frontline haunted almost every strategical office across the world. In theory, such a problem was simple. Slamming several trucks to each unit would be enough to allow them to move fast… But every truck required fuel. Every truck also needed a driver, who in turn had to eat, wash himself, drink…

As more and more means would be used to provide for all the auxiliary forces, it wouldn't be uncommon for millions of people to work down the line just for a group of hundred soldiers could throw themselves at the enemy.

And while it didn't appear to be directly related, their current problem was actually exactly the same. If one were to dissect the reality of the logistic choking problem, it actually proved that sometimes using elaborate means to overcome a problem could consume more effort and resources than dealing with the said problem in a normal way.

"Well, you guys proved the value of your words back on stage, I guess we can leave the design of the village to you as well." Suddenly speaking up, Al managed to pull Markus out of his tsunami of thoughts, memories, and plans. "In turn, I hope you can leave the scouting to us. In the end, we can't rely on our descendants to do everything for us, can we?"

As serious as the burly man usually was, this time Al presented Markus and Yelna duo with a surprising sight of a gentle smile.

"Sir, with all due respect… I wish to tag along." Before anything else could be said, Markus stepped forward. Hearing a series of gasps, the man quickly realized that in his hurry, he actually stepped on top of the diagram, destroying a sizeable portion of it. "Ah, dear, sorry, I didn't mean to do it." Lowering his head in an apology, Markus quickly regained his wits.

"Tag along?" Repeating Markus's question, Al raised his brows. "It's going to be a scouting mission, not some leisurely trip." From the slightly concerned look that appeared in Al's eyes, Markus could tell that it wasn't going to be an easy task to convince the man. In the end, he wasn't asking for a favor from some random warlord, but the very man who gave birth to the word General!

"Well, as long as you are okay with the dangers and you are sure you can pull your own weight, that's okay with me." Shaking his shoulder, Al proved that not all of Markus' guesses would end up correct. "Just keep in mind, once we will be out there… Mercy will no longer be an option. Whoever will be unlucky enough to encounter us…"

Hanging his speech right on the last word, Al sent a curious glance to the saint. Yet, rather than protesting or trying to deny the reality, Markus simply nodded his head.. "I understand. When do we depart?"