How to Survive in the Roanoke Colony-Chapter 193: Open-Pit Promise (2)

"Could you baptize the newborns in the village?"

...Baptism?

Me?

"Both fathers are Spanish, and they feel uncomfortable having their children baptized by a 'priest' we elected among ourselves..."

Ah, that makes sense if they're Catholics.

If it's someone they elected among themselves, it's just "anyone" without authority, but if I baptize them, it feels like a direct line to God, doesn't it? If I'm really an angel, it's not even heresy.

After deliberating and nodding, the parliamentarian happily and excitedly brought people who looked like newlyweds.

Between them were two children with tiny faces.

With spectators still whispering here and there, I carefully applied water to the children's foreheads. People all around knelt and prayed.

...It had been a while since we appointed separate priests.

It was a moment when I realized the religious authority given to me.

Looking around, most people in this settlement were adults.

However, many men and women were seen holding hands or standing close to each other, a result of primarily accepting couples or families during immigration.

Soon, children will be born and grow among them.

And their children will learn their respective languages, arithmetic, farming, and various other skills.

Updat𝒆d fr𝒐m freewebnσvel.cøm.

We might need proper schools and teachers, not just the makeshift teaching we're doing now.

If that's realized within 10-20 years.

If we establish schools and train teachers not just here but in Croatoan, Roanoke, and Chesapeake Bay.

Then couldn't we establish the world's first universal educational institution?

"...Thank you for your effort, Nameless One."

Parliamentarian Pastor awakens me from these thoughts. As I lift my head, he smiles and guides me to the outskirts of the village.

More than half of the villagers walked out following me. Perhaps because of this, the village scene behind me became very quiet as soon as I left.

The parliamentarian, apparently happy about my visit, talked incessantly beside me.

"Actually, the phosphate mine has been quiet since the prisoners left, hasn't it? So I thought you had turned your attention away from this area!"

How could I lose interest in a place where whiskey comes from... Anyway.

Yes. Originally, we had gathered criminals who were planning inter-tribal terrorism and had them work here.

Since we urgently needed labor force, instead of imprisonment, we punished criminals by giving them specific tasks...

It was like that back then too.

More precisely, since the natives weren't familiar with detention, it was difficult to keep people confined for years.

And I was uncomfortable with inflicting physical torture or punishment as was customary among both natives and Europeans in this era.

So what remained was penal labor.

We roughly selected a few tasks needed by the community, categorized them by difficulty and duration.

Then we also categorized criminals based on the level of damage and severity of their crimes, and assigned them appropriate penal labor.

That was the punishment method in our Virginia community.

...It might seem strange from a modern perspective, but in this era, this is the most civilized law.

Regardless of East or West, various tortures and brutal executions were firmly established as law and custom in this era. It will be more than 100 years before gentler execution devices like the guillotine appear.

Anyway, the parliament assigned them the task of clearing the forests and soil around the phosphate open-pit mine and developing the mine.

After completing that task, they've been doing community service in Chesapeake Bay since last year. Three hours a day, five days a week, for a total of 300 hours. Once finished, they become normal citizens again.

Anyway, we walked south for quite a while, looking around. Everyone except me was gasping for breath.

The trees were becoming scarcer, and it seemed the soil would soon be exposed again. As we pushed on, soon a bright light pierced our eyes and the forest ended.

And then... we saw it.

The open-pit mine that prisoners had organized over several years.

It wasn't in the form of an underground mine with a damp hole dug into the ground as we commonly imagine, but literally a dish-like depression where the layers covering the minerals had been removed.

Phosphate rocks were scattered all over. However, we remained still, not approaching it.

Because it's dangerous.

Phosphate rock is a material that can easily catch fire. So just digging into it can be considered dangerous.

In fact, before even discussing the danger, it's impossible to dig a phosphate mine in the form of tunnels as we generally imagine. If you do that, toxic gas accumulates.

That's why we continued some mining and then stopped by my order. That's also why, as Parliamentarian Pastor asked, it seemed like we had forgotten about this place.

"As you instructed, we've prevented anyone from coming here carelessly. However... I understand that the resources from this place are very valuable."

"That's right, Parliamentarian Pastor."

"Then just leaving it abandoned seems... wasteful."

"Don't worry."

That's also true.

I marked the location of the phosphate mine on the map and then opened my notebook again.

What I had investigated and planned so far was written in it.

"It will be finished soon."

We're finalizing preparations to utilize the phosphate from here.