"Ehm, my lord…" the aged goblin announced as he entered the grand Village Hall, escorted by the earlier dispatched messenger. "I heard that you have asked for me. How may I be of help to you?"

Thorian, seated in his chair, regarded the newcomer and rose to his feet. He approached the aged goblin with measured steps. "Are you a carpenter?" His voice carried a hint of expectation.

"Yes, my lord. I have been carving wood my whole life," the old goblin replied, bowing with reverence.

"No need for formalities," Thorian interjected, signaling for the goblin to rise. "What name do you go by?"

"I am Hewer, my lord," the aged craftsman responded, a touch of unease in his tone.

"Very well, Hewer," Thorian said, placing a reassuring hand on the goblin's shoulder as he drew nearer. "I have a project in mind, one I wish for you to oversee. If you demonstrate proficiency, I will ensure that you and your kin are granted a much larger home, right at the heart of our village."

"Your offer is a great honor, my lord!" Hewer exclaimed, almost instinctively dropping to his knees. "Tell me what I need to do and I swear I will not dissapoint you, my lord."

Thorian sighed softly, observing the elderly goblin humbling himself before him. "Hewer, please. There's no need for such deference. Stand tall when in my presence."

In a daze, the elderly carpenter gazed up at Thorian, who gently assisted him to his feet. Thorian proceeded to outline his plan. "What I require from you are wooden tubs, enough to accommodate every warrior in our village. Do you grasp the scope of the task?"

Hewer hesitated momentarily. "Y-yes, I can make wooden tubs. However, it will take a long time to make the quantity you’re asking me to, my lord."

"Have no concern for that," Thorian reassured him with a dismissive wave. "Your task is to gather the skilled carpenters within our community. They shall work under your guidance on this endeavor. Inform them that this order is from me and assure them of generous compensation upon its completion."

A glimmer of excitement sparked in the old goblin's eyes. "I’m sure it would be a honor for them to work for you, my lord. Should I begin immediately?"

"Of course," Thorian chuckled. "The sooner, the better."

With that directive, Hewer and the messenger departed the village hall. As they exited, Thorian released a faint sigh.

"It appears there is no rest for you, my lord," Melina emerged from an adjoining room, carrying a plate of biscuits.

Observing the elven maiden, Thorian shook his head resolutely. "Rest is unnecessary. Rest breeds complacency, and complacency breeds failure."

At the declaration, Melina arched an eyebrow. She glanced at her plate of biscuits and shrugged. "I suppose these are no longer needed, then."

As she made a move to retreat into her chamber, Thorian halted her. "Wait... A measure of rest is acceptable."

Surprised by the mighty Thorian's concession, Melina couldn't help but chuckle softly. Without a word, she approached the table where Thorian sat and settled into the chair opposite him.

As Thorian joined her, Melina inquired, "What's your agenda for today?"

Thorian took a bite of one of the biscuits before explaining his agenda. "With the cultivation hall now in order, that will be my primary focus. For that purpose, I require Hewer to craft as many wooden tubs as possible for our fighters to utilize in their cultivation. Without this provision, the village will emanate a foul stench by nightfall."

"Indeed, that would be far from ideal," Melina mused, rubbing her chin in thought. "But waiting for the tubs to be finished might waste valuable days for cultivation, wouldn't it?"

“You make a valid point,” Thorian thought, his gaze drifting downward in contemplation. “One solution might involve stationing water magi at the cultivation hall temporarily. Their primary task would be to cleanse the residual black remnants after each meditation session.”

“I sympathize with whoever gets that duty,” Melina chuckled lightly.

Thorian echoed her amusement with a faint smile. “I don’t envy their responsibility either.”

Their conversation tapered off into a comfortable silence, punctuated only by the sound of biscuit consumption. Eventually, Thorian finished the last morsel and made a move to rise. However, Melina halted him, seizing his wrist gently.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“You’ve yet to divulge the most crucial aspect of your plan. You're heading to Locksley soon, aren’t you?” she queried.

"Yes, I must complete that Guardian quest," Thorian affirmed.

Melina paused briefly before continuing, "And after attending to the guardians, do you plan to remain in Locksley for an extended period?"

Thorian raised an eyebrow in response. "Are you inquiring if I intend to retaliate against them? Is that your concern? Do you harbor sympathy for them after their attack on us?"

"No, I don't harbor pity for those who attacked us," Melina asserted with a firm shake of her head. "But I understand the plight of having peace disrupted by an external force that strips away everything you hold dear."

Meeting Melina's resolute gaze, Thorian released a weary sigh. "My course of action regarding them will hinge entirely on their conduct. If they demonstrate civility, I will engage in kind."

Sensing Melina's loosening grip on his wrist, Thorian sighed softly. "Well, I shall take my leave now."

"May fortune favor your journey, my lord," Melina bid him farewell.

With those parting words, Thorian departed from the Village Hall. Contemplations swirled in his mind as he proceeded toward Forlune, his trusted general. Upon arrival, he updated Forlune on the cultivation hall's enhancements, tasking a team of water magi to manage the interim cleaning duties—a necessary measure while Hewer continued crafting the wooden tubs.

Simultaneously, he briefed Forlune about the Guild Halls' upgrades and the newly unlocked quests. Preferring not to micromanage, Thorian entrusted the communication of these advancements to Forlune and Zogarth, his two capable generals.

Consequently, both the guilds and the bustling Cultivation Hall teemed with activity, frequented by fighters engaged in meditation or quest endeavors.

Observing the fervent activity within the Cultivation Hall, Thorian emitted a soft click of his tongue, tinged with a hint of regret. I had intended to acquire a fundamental movement skill from the masters, but it seems they are occupied now. I'll have to postpone it until tomorrow.

With a resigned sigh, Thorian pivoted, acknowledging the sunset that had draped Wolvendale Village in the soothing embrace of the evening. The stars glittered in the expansive night sky, accompanied by the radiant glow of the twin moons casting their magical luminescence upon the forest.

Before marshaling his forces for the impending journey toward Locksley, Thorian still had one crucial task remaining: claiming the rewards accrued from his guild quests. With a determined stride, he made his way toward the Magus Guild. This typically deserted establishment now bustled with youthful magi—kobolds and goblins alike. Some diligently honed their manipulation of mana, while others focused on perfecting their infusion techniques. A few attempted to attune themselves to the ambient mana, striving to connect with it devoid of the system's assistance.

"Oh, my lord?" Fizzlegrin's unmistakably squeaky voice pierced through the bustling ambiance. "Are you here to claim your completed quests?"

"Yes, indeed, Guild Master," Thorian affirmed with a nod, casting a glance around the lively guildhall. A chuckle escaped him. "I trust this newfound activity hasn't unsettled you too much."

"How could it?!" Fizzlegrin shook his head emphatically. "This is precisely how a guild should thrive—brimming with vitality and a thirst for knowledge!"

With a decisive gesture, the guild master retrieved his magical pin, swiftly confirming the fulfillment of Thorian’s three magus quests.

“I hope the rewards are to your satisfaction, my lord!” Fizzlegrin then happily hopped off his desk before attending to some young magus.

Looking at this scene, Thorian chuckled before checking his own gains.

Personal Resources.

Arcane Coins 2856 Mystic Marks 150

So, fifty Mystic Marks per quests? Not too bad. I can buy a first advancement skill with three days’ worth of quests.

Content with the progress at the guild, Thorian exited before proceeding toward the outer north wall, where Forlune was stationed. Upon arrival, he discovered the moon kobold perched atop the imposing gate, surveying the surroundings.

As Forlune sensed Thorian's presence, he turned to address him. "My lord, is it time? Should I call upon our army?"

"Yes, please proceed, Forlune," Thorian confirmed with a nod. "But summon only the fighters. The direwolves will remain to safeguard our village."

Acknowledging the command with a respectful nod, Forlune suppressed a feral grin. "Understood, my lord. Your wishes shall be carried out."

Having imparted his instructions to Forlune, Thorian then sought out his final companion, one he hadn't encountered throughout the day. Thanks to their telepathic bond, he knew precisely where to locate him.

Venturing to an isolated hill in the village's outskirts, Thorian discerned the resonating howls of Harald. The majestic king of the direwolves streaked across the landscape, his form enveloped in a faint, barely discernible light green hue.

He is mastering his new skills quite nicely.

Thorian observed with a sense of pride the significant strides Harald had achieved in mastering mana control. It was evident that Harald's manipulation of mana resembled more of an aura manipulation than mere enhancement of the body with mana. Impressively, he was even infusing this makeshift aura with the wind element, albeit to a modest degree.

As the training session concluded, the imposing figure of the direwolf king strode towards Thorian.

"So, I assume your visit here was solely to inform me of your impending departure for the city?" Harald inquired, arching an eyebrow.

Thorian paused briefly before responding, his tone carrying weight, "Harald, I entrust the protection of my village to you. Guard it diligently."

The king of the direwolves nodded in silence, but his intent was clear to Thorian.

"I am relying on you," Thorian affirmed, acknowledging the unspoken commitment from Harald.