2026-04-23 03:40:35
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25
I leaned back in my chair, the leather creaking softly under my weight, as I studied the woman standing before me. Captain Mareona held herself with a rigid, military poise, yet there was a flicker of something familiar in the set of her jaw and the sharp, attentive light in her eyes. It took a moment for my mind to sift through the memories of the past six years, back to the early days when my grandmother had sent a contingent of four hundred soldiers to ensure my survival in this desolate state."You look remarkably like Captain Ela," I said, my voice cutting through the silence of the office. "Tell me, what is your connection to her? Are you perhaps her mother? Or given the lines of experience on your face, perhaps her grandmother?"The mask of military stoicism on Mareona’s face shattered instantly. A vein throbbed visibly on her temple, and her eyes flared with a sudden, indignant fire. "I am her younger sister!" she barked, her professional composure momentarily eclipsed by pure
24
To the common observer, four years is a period of slow, rhythmic change. But within the borders of the Secluded State, these years were a whirlwind of divine intervention and industrial revolution. I had long ago realized that borrowed strength was a deceptive comfort; a sword lent by another can be reclaimed, but the strength forged in one’s own meridians is the only true sovereignty. Thus, while the world moved on, I anchored myself within the heart of the Spiritual Land, a sanctuary that had transitioned from a hidden valley into a fortress of unparalleled sophistication.Under my directives, the transition was surgical. I had tasked Elder 1 and Elder 5 with a monumental architectural feat: the creation of a base that would serve as both a sanctuary and a laboratory. I demanded that the true heart of our power—the scientific facilities—be buried deep underground, hidden from the prying eyes of heaven and earth alike. I wanted a self-sustaining ecosystem protected by a multi-layered
23
The atmosphere within the governor’s grand office was thick with a tension that felt almost physical. Three days had passed since the silver and white mists of the system’s summoning had receded, and the reality of my new cabinet was beginning to set in. I sat behind the massive mahogany desk, my fingers steepled, watching the silent play of power across the room. Across from me sat the "Three Legends"—Lynch, Nel, and Holt—their faces etched with the fatigue of two years of relentless labor. Next to them stood the three scholars I had chosen to remain in the city: Elder 2, the stoic elven mistress of agriculture; Elder 4, the calculating human master of economics; and Elder 5, the dwarven architect whose eyes seemed to constantly measure the structural integrity of the walls.The silence was broken by Old Nel, who, true to his lecherous nature, was staring at Elder 2 with a look of undisguised, pathetic longing. His eyes wandered over the elegant curve of her elven ears and the poised
22
The shattering of the talent stone had left a ringing silence in the clearing, broken only by the heavy breathing of the three legendary nobles. Old Holt looked at the sparkling obsidian dust at his feet, his eyes wide and shimmering with a mixture of reverence and absolute shock. He looked at me as if he were staring at a god descended from the heavens. I knew you were special from the moment I laid eyes on you, My Lord! he exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion. But this... this is beyond anything recorded in the annals of history. You possess the greatest talent that has ever graced the Vermilion Empire!Old Nel, ever the one to boast once his fear had subsided into pride, puffed out his chest and looked at the others with a triumphant smirk. Hmph! Forget the empire! Nel shouted, gesturing wildly. He has the greatest talent in the entire world! Even those pampered prodigies from the Central Continent, who think they are the darlings of the heavens, aren't fit to carry our Lord’
21
The passage of time is a fickle thing; to the idle, it is a slow decay, but to those with a kingdom to build, it is a fleeting currency. Two years had bled into the tapestry of history since I first stood upon the broken gates of the Secluded City. Now, as I sat perched upon a thick, gnarled branch of an ancient oak tree that guarded the perimeter of my estate, I looked out over a landscape that had been utterly transformed. The air no longer carried the stagnant scent of fear and poverty that the Lamonia family had cultivated like a toxic crop. Instead, it was filled with the vibrant, chaotic hum of a burgeoning metropolis.I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the sensory data wash over me. I could hear the rhythmic clanging of hammers from the newly established industrial district, the distant shouting of merchants in the central square, and the steady marching of boots that signaled the changing of the guard. The Secluded State had undergone a metamorphosis that defied every law
20
The stench of the dungeon lingered in my nostrils as I ascended the stone stairs, the silence of the underground replaced by the chaotic symphony of a city in the throes of a violent rebirth. Veldora followed a step behind me, his expression unreadable, while Kurma trotted at my side, occasionally licking his chops with a disturbing sense of satisfaction.I had missed it. The grand spectacle of the siege, the clashing of steel on the battlements, the dramatic fall of a corrupt regime—all of it had happened while I was stuck in a damp cellar watching two divine beasts have a snack. I looked at Veldora with a flash of genuine disappointment.Are you happy now? I muttered, my voice echoing in the narrow corridor. I missed the entire show. My first real battle, and I spent it listening to those two screaming for mercy. Now, all I see is a massive game of hide-and-seek played by an entire city.Veldora offered a small, apologetic bow. My Lord, the quality of a meal is often determined by t
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