Time passed, and once again, the seasons shifted in their constant and inescapable cycle. Unfortunately, the Barren Hills of Deepshadow remained a dark valley of death, offering little sign of the time of year beyond the varying temperatures of each season.
Even the warm and thriving Eternal Village couldn’t reveal this truth. Its artificial greenhouse and outdoor plantations, just beginning to grow, were far from showcasing the splendor of the changing seasons.
Six weeks had flown by since Jonn’s agreement with the Triceratops, enough time for the village to complete its previous constructions. Another harvest was approaching, but the village’s focus was on a different matter: expanding their population.
A new day was dawning in the village, and more people than the day before were waking up to join the workers’ efforts. Another group of new residents had arrived the night before, marking the fourth such event since the departure of the recruitment teams.
Of the six groups of recruiters sent out following Jonn’s orders, only one had failed to bring new residents back to the village. Those who returned had already left behind new inhabitants and then set out again to pursue leads at the locations of other villages.
Thus, the long-time residents of the village were becoming accustomed to opening their windows and doors to see fresh faces coming and going. These newcomers moved into groups, eager to learn how they could contribute.
Molle observed this morning as she watched Tim head out with his disciples to the newly opened forge in the village’s east, noticing in the street three newcomers who had arrived the previous night.
“New beginners?” Old Molle asked as she saw Elia making her way towards the Council, as was her morning routine.
The young woman, her hair tied up in a ponytail, nodded with a smile. “With this new group joining us last night, we’ve reached 90 residents, Molle!” Elia exclaimed excitedly.
“We’ll soon reach 100,” Molle said, sharing in Elia’s enthusiasm. “I hope I’ll still be around to see the village reach a thousand inhabitants, though.”
Elia responded, possessing a deeper understanding of the village’s reality than Molle, “You certainly will. Your age won’t hold you back, Molle. You’ll live long enough to see greenery return to the plains.”
Molle sighed, having just turned 65 last week, an age considered a critical point for the villagers. Except for Hewet, all the villagers had passed away before reaching 65. Although she wasn’t afraid of death, Molle was filled with hope and didn’t want to leave before witnessing her people’s success in revitalizing this barren region.
‘Will I really get this chance?’ she wondered as she picked up a broom to clean her house, having already eaten with Tim and having free time until the first of the women under her supervision in clothing production arrived.
However, Molle’s worries were more superstitious than based on the facts of her situation. She hadn’t felt better in the last decade. Even routine tasks that had become difficult were no longer challenging as of a year ago.
She attributed this to eating well, having a clear purpose in mind, and staying active. Yet, her thoughts often returned to the reminder of her mortality.
Fortunately, these thoughts rarely lingered for more than a minute or two. It wasn’t long before Wy’s wife stopped by to deliver some snacks for her and Tim, drawing her attention to May’s specialty: food.
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Meanwhile, Jonn had left his house early in the morning and was now on the east side of the village with a group of workers near a temporary camp.
The east side of the village currently featured four houses and seven community buildings, all connected to the village’s sewage and supply network. However, there was still space available in this area, which Jonn planned to fill with new housing for the village’s recent arrivals.
Of the new residents, nine were currently in the village, while six were at the East Lake outpost. These nine individuals, adult men and women, were living in the camp at one corner of this area, where Jonn now stood in front of a street paved with rectangular stones.
Beside him was Urian, the village’s veteran carpenter, dressed in his work attire with a few tools hanging from his clothes.
“What do you think of them, old Urian?” Jonn asked, observing a man and a woman sitting in the camp, working with blades and small pieces of wood.
“They seem skilled, Village Elder,” Urian replied, nodding to one side. “Don’t worry, I’ll refine their skills. Give me a year, and they’ll be carpenters ready to work independently.”
Jonn and Elia were beginning to understand the individual characteristics of their new village members and were directing them to various roles.
Upon arrival in the village, newcomers would start with basic tasks such as construction, mining, transportation, fishing, or village maintenance, including street cleaning and waste disposal. However, Jonn and Elia always allowed the newcomers some freedom to express their opinions and enjoy a bit of free time to explore their primary interests. As days passed, they learned more about these individuals and their capabilities.
Of the 15 newcomers, two had already shown potential for forging, and Tim was teaching them. Now, Jonn had recommended two others to Urian.
While discussing the two newcomers who had been in the village for nearly a week, Jonn heard a breath from the newcomers’ camp—composed of members from four different villages visited by their recruiters.
Their recruiters had discovered a total of five villages around the Barren Hills of Deepshadow, in the territories of the Lands of Etheria, Sylvestria, and the Nation of Thalassia. Only a fraction of these communities had accepted the village’s invitation, which represented a significant potential for the village in the short term.
Combining the populations of the five villages, they could potentially gain nearly 110 new residents if they successfully integrated the 15 recent arrivals—most of whom were men scouting the area to evaluate its safety before recommending their families move to the Eternal Village.
The recruitment efforts extended beyond these initial contacts. While several members of these villages had already established themselves within Jonn’s community, the teams of recruiters continued their search for more prospects, with two teams having already expanded their search to neighboring towns in the region.
Given these promising developments, Jonn was eager to assign the newcomers to positions that would maximize their skills and speed up the village’s growth.
His guards maintained vigilant surveillance of the western border, though no threats had materialized yet. Still, he couldn’t shake the certainty that danger was approaching. Since receiving the seven-point penalty for the village quest, he had made no progress on his missions, and his anxiety grew with each passing day.
Jonn had been dedicating himself to rigorous training with his armor and {Spells} almost daily, not only to enhance his own abilities but also to assist Eliot and Elia with mana crystals and {Magic Breath}. However, the current peaceful atmosphere and the progress of both people and animals didn’t ease his concerns. Each sunset marked one less day before the inevitable challenges they would face.
Under these circumstances, he felt pressed to recruit both workers and warriors, simultaneously preparing for future threats while ensuring the newcomers felt welcomed enough to encourage their families to join the Eternal Village.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
With a reassuring squeeze of Urian’s shoulder, Jonn announced his departure, “Work with them. I’ll check on old Tim before heading out to tend to the animals.”
After exchanging these parting words, Jonn reviewed his status as he made his way to the forge.
Jonn Irondoom
Level 3 (59%) (Acolyte)
Health: 850/850
Mana: 3,010/2,950 (+60)
Stamina: 840/840
[Attributes]
Strength 58 Agility 65 Dexterity 60 (+3) (+10) Constitution 85 Endurance 84 Intelligence 295 (+6) Wisdom 277 (+6) Charisma 48 (+3) (+10) Luck 50 (+3)
It’s not bad. But it would be ideal for me to advance to level 4 before facing the exotic animals’ threats. It’s a pity that the magical cave I found a few days ago was of no use to me.
He had been searching for caves similar to the one near Count Francus’s territory. Although he’d recently found one, the items within were only suitable for level 1 and 2 mages. Consequently, he had distributed everything useful to Eliot and Elia, both approaching the end of level 1.
While Eliot and Elia weren’t advancing at Jonn’s pace, his guidance had helped them progress steadily toward the first Acolyte level.
He spotted Elia passing in front of the Council building and exchanged a quick wave before entering the forge, where five people were gathered around the newly-lit furnace, chatting as it burned the village’s coal supply.
Once inside, Jonn heard another cough, the second one in just a few minutes.
“Everything alright, old Tim?” Jonn asked, studying the middle-aged craftsman in his coal-and-dirt-stained attire.
“Ah, I’m fine, Village Elder. Just a bit of dust getting to me,” the blacksmith replied upon noticing Jonn. He motioned for an apprentice to maintain the furnace while he moved to show Jonn his latest work from the previous night.
“Take a look at this, Elder. It’s the finest weapon I’ve ever crafted,” Tim declared proudly, presenting a bronze-hued spear.
Immediately, a message box materialized in Jonn’s magical vision.
“Oh?” Jonn’s eyes widened in surprise. For the first time, the system was evaluating one of Tim’s creations!
Had old Tim somehow become a magical blacksmith? But how was that possible? He possessed no mana control ability!
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At the intersection of the North Royal Road and the East River of the Deepshadow Barren Hills, two men in a wagon bid farewell to a group camped in the area.
One man, sporting dark red hair and a prominent facial scar, carried a sword at his right hip. Beside him sat a tall young man, equipped with a longbow and quiver of arrows on his back, gazing steadily ahead while deliberately ignoring the merchants they’d just conducted business with.
While Petyr observed Acelin’s group with the same wariness that Elia and Jonn had expressed, Eliot scanned the surroundings for Ice, who should have been nearby. Despite his magical abilities, he couldn’t detect any trace of the village’s most formidable white wolf.
As they headed south from their trading session with Acelin—having exchanged coal and basic weapons for meat, seeds, and books the village needed—the merchant and his companions watched their departure intently.
Acelin stood before his modest temporary camp, flanked by his two bodyguards. Disregarding the dozen servants managing the group’s affairs nearby, he kept his attention fixed on the horse-drawn wagon slowly disappearing southward.
“What do you think?” the Sylvestrian merchant asked his guards once the Eternal Village representatives were safely out of earshot.
“They seem mediocre,” said the armored guard on Acelin’s right, who carried a longsword at his hip.
“I agree,” added the unarmored warrior on his left, dressed in flexible fabric and wielding a spear taller than himself. “While it’s unusual for a village to trade coal, the Barren Hills of Deepshadow have plenty to sustain a small settlement like the Eternal Village. They’re likely either increasing production or simply prioritizing food over fuel. This isn’t unlike Hewet’s time. As for their weapons, there’s nothing noteworthy—they’re merely adapting to survive.”
Acelin contemplated the spearman’s assessment, having reached similar conclusions himself. “What about the strength of the village? These brief encounters aren’t enough to gauge their numbers accurately. But Uranius will want reliable estimates before we proceed.”
“They can’t be powerful,” the armored man said. “Their modest trades suggest they’re prioritizing basic survival over strength. They probably overvalue their crude weapons and neglect proper defenses. "Regardless of their numbers, retrieving Hewet Irondoom's legacy should be easy."”
“I see the same, Chief Acelin,” the spearman said, meeting the merchant’s gaze. “My only concern lies with any defensive mechanisms the Destroyer might have left behind.”
“That’s what troubles both Uranius and myself…” Acelin responded, his fists clenching as his pulse quickened. “However, we must proceed with our plans. Nearly three years have passed since the Destroyer’s death. Any remaining enchantments will fade in the coming months. Let’s move forward—we’ll pass through Lost Treasures and initiate our plans with Uranius’ group. Upon our return, we’ll pay the Eternal Village a visit!”
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Deep in the southern reaches of the continent, amid Eldoria’s lush landscapes, a convoy traversed the Southern Royal Road. It consisted of ten carriages and five wagons, accompanied by many uniformed men on foot, primarily armed with spears. No other travelers were visible on the road.
The group’s advance scouts, riding ahead of the main convoy, suddenly raised an ox-horn trumpet skyward. Its resonant blast echoed across the vast expanse, signaling to the others.
The convoy responded at once to their scouts’ signal. They slowed down and prepared to stop again in their long journey that had begun days earlier.
As the group set up camp, a handsome young man with short, fresh hair drew back the curtain of his carriage window. He surveyed the surroundings, a wide smile spreading across his face.
‘Just wait, Count Javis!’ Baynard thought triumphantly, envisioning his path to vengeance. ‘Once I claim the Eternal Village as my own, I’ll have the manpower cut off your head and take back what’s mine!’