The next day, by the time we reached the mountain’s lower slopes, the sun was a bruised smear behind storm clouds. The wind carried a sharp, unnatural chill—like the breath of something long dead, watching from high above.The convoy roared across the broken earth. Trucks rumbled forward in perfect formation, tires grinding stone and ash. Mana-fueled Humvees led the vanguard, headlights blazing with enchanted beams that cut through the mist. Behind them, rows of armored transports bore our warriors—5,000 strong, every single one trained, tested, and battle-hardened.Among them moved our elite: 300 of the best, clad in obsidian armor etched with divine runes, enhanced by Flare’s flame and Silvarya’s protective wards. These were the ones who had fought in the underdungeons, braved the acid tides, and faced the living curses of forgotten temples. Their loyalty was absolute. Their will, unshakable.We passed through three abandoned villages—ghosts of homes left behind in haste. Doors hung

The return to Robinson Town was nothing like the grim retreat I had pictured.Our trucks and Humvees rolled in slowly, dust trailing behind us, the wounds of war still fresh on every face. Some of the warriors were missing limbs, others had new scars across their faces, torsos, and minds—but all of us carried something else now:Victory.The first boss—the obsidian golem of myth and devastation—was dead.And that meant something.The moment our convoy entered the outer gate, the townspeople swarmed us like a tide of joy. Children ran alongside the trucks, waving wooden swords and wearing makeshift armor made from pots and pans. Flowers were tossed in the air—bouquets of lilac, flame-petals, and frost-lilies. The entire town bell rang in an upbeat rhythm.“DIRK! DIRK! DIRK!”They chanted my name. And then:“FLARE! FLARE! FLARE!”Our divine fire-breathing dragon took it with surprising humility—until someone handed him a whole roast cow on a cart and he devoured it in one gulp, leaving

ITEM: TIMEWATCH OF THE LOST EMPERORThis relic contains the power to alter the flow of time—but only once. Usage will allow you to temporarily shift events by 24 hours. NOTE: Must be used within 3 days of acquisition.“This is…” I trailed off.Ella leaned over my shoulder. “You have a time machine?!”“No,” I muttered. “Worse. I have one chance to use it. For one day. And then it’s gone forever.”Agnes whistled. “So… you could go back and stop someone from dying? Or change a tactical decision?”“Or,” Elvie said quietly, “undo the second boss before it arrives.”The room fell silent.For a moment, my heart raced. The implications were staggering. But I couldn’t afford to misuse it. Not on emotion. Not on regret.No—we needed to leverage this properly. Use it when everything was on the line.“I’m not using it yet,” I decided. “Not until we see the next boss.”Ella placed her basket of fruit on the table gently. “Then what now?”I turned to the group, pointing to the map, the supplies,

Time Distortion Mode: ActivatedYou now have 72 hours of absolute control—while the world is paused.Spend it wisely.I grinned.“Let’s build an empire.”And I did.In those 72 hours, I imported blueprints from the system and began laying foundations for new turret stations across the mountains.I arranged defense patterns. Reorganized supply lines. Optimized training regimens.I even restocked the entire Grocery Fortress, expanded its inventory, and reorganized the warehouse with robotic arms I built during my paused time.The world blinked again—and resumed.No one noticed. But I knew. And when the monsters came again… We’d be ready.The following days surged with momentum.The sun hadn’t yet risen when the town bell rang—a melodic chime now instead of the jarring war-siren it once was. Market stalls opened as steam hissed from early morning kitchens. Children with messy hair ran barefoot through the cobbled streets, chewing on freshly grilled sausage sticks and shouting about “drag

Casualties:983 soldiers.4 elite commanders.2 trucks.1 sky glider unit.We mourned them all that night.But we also lit fires.Tents filled with songs, laughter, and toasts. Survivors ate fresh cooked mana-boar, drank enchanted ale, and sang tales of how Kael punched a monster in the mouth, or how Felix rode a flaming sled down the slope shooting backwards. Even Karl smiled—his hands still bloodstained from the fallen.I stood before the fire, cloak torn, armor scorched.The people of Robinson Town looked up to the mountain. And for the first time, they saw it as conquered land—not a cursed place.The war wasn’t over. But tonight? Victory was ours.The mountain was still steaming—cracked earth and scorched stone whispering of war—but our people were alive, and that was enough.Even before the smoke cleared, soldiers began to remove their helmets. They wept. They laughed. Some fell to their knees and kissed the dirt. Others looked up at the sky, murmuring thanks to whatever gods sti