Jeremy’s domain was improving.

It was just two weeks since his return and could not believe the changes to his place.

From just a simple house, the Corner Shop, and a single field of dandelions — the land now had several buildings and multiple fields.

The farmhands built small shacks where they could rest and store produce — and Min and her little apprentices had some sort of communal barn.

He shivered at the concept of shared spaces and open rooms. The kids slept in bunk beds — no privacy at all! His trip to Shelby’s home gave him a better understanding of privacy — and how some things should be left unshared, even to the closest of people.

Shelby allowed him to enter her home so they could deal with the naked man problem. It was more of a dimension than a snail home. It looked like a cave complex — if cave complexes had smooth floors and delineated rooms.

Shelby regularly used four rooms — a rock room, a red soaking room, a garden/pantry, and a strange mushroom farm.

She kept her prisoner in the last one. Which explained a lot. The poor man was imagining untold horrors — his body overcome by jerms and becoming their spawning grounds.

Jeremy’s spirit faltered at the prospect. Quick death was indeed preferable to the inevitable corruption of jerms.

The man was outside helping the farmhands. He was completely broken. Sebas couldn’t even detect a sin on the man’s soul. He said it crashed and suffered a hard reset. They could have convinced him he was a snail — and he would have made his own shell. The butler just called him Boot and told him to learn farming from the boys.

It was too late to capture Sacher, the mastermind behind the kidnapping. He was long gone by the time Boot told them his possible whereabouts.

Jeremy was shocked to find out that the target was Sebas and not him. He was a little bit offended — and for good reason. How could his butler anger people more than he did? Not that he made an effort to — it was just an appearance thing. He knew his father would be outraged at the thought of being less hated than his butler.

Not that his butler didn’t have reasons for certain people to hate him. Sebas turned down an offer from a prince’s envoy for the makings of his healing drops and Lifesavers™.

He almost collapsed when he learned of the 40,000 gold offer for them — 50,000 gold if he added the incentives. For a brief instant, he wanted to strangle his butler.

He would have gladly sold his formulas for that amount of money. Let the capital find their own hydras and figure out the process.

Alchemy was just so taxing. He had to do most of the things by himself because of the hydra blood thing — and that involved long hours in the lab.

He spent four whole days in the lab making healing drops and Lifesavers™ for the Corner Shop™ and Lady Amaranth. They had a partnership — but he didn’t think she would almost triple her orders from before. She also wanted to sell Lifesavers™ to the nobles. They weren’t their regular clientele, so He just made Sebas do the paperwork.

Jeremy sighed.

He wanted to earn money while doing nothing. Which meant resource gathering and production. Those two he could delegate to his six golems.

He finished the three new ones two days ago. He brought back two normal golem bases and a centaur-like one. Sebas said it was a wemic, judging by its cat feet.

The thing was a pain to process.

Human molds were easy — you could just lay them down and everything would be done. They needed to immerse the wemic in a whole block of dandelion juice — enough to make three or four normal golems!

Everyone marveled at the strange golem once it was finished. Jeremy wished he didn’t bring it back.

It was bulky, needed more space, consumed more power — all the while, not performing any better than the others. It wasn’t even mining with the rest since it couldn’t crawl or fit into tight spaces.

He was surprised at the mining. He had plans for it, but he didn’t think Warden would cajole Siege and the golems to go with him. The boy even exchanged a whole bunch of feathers for some mithril.

Jeremy quickly forbade such transactions. Shelby was no miner. If they wanted metals — they needed to get them themselves.

Speaking of metal, he pulled out a piece of ore from his robes. Bluish fire engulfed the ore as the wizard stared into it intently.

Still nothing.

Jeremy fumed. How could he make a spire when he couldn’t even melt a small piece of wolfram? He had to form a 30-foot tall obelisk and inscribe it with spell matrices and containment runes and glyphs to make an infernal spire. It now seemed like a distant thing.

The wizard walked towards the barn. He dreaded the visit every time. Teaching was not one of his strong points — and kids seemed dirtier than adults.

Still, it was his duty to mentor his would-be minions. Maybe turn them into something more formidable.

He remembered how the vanguard was tempered by constant battle and hardships. He imagined doing the same to the kids.

The caves provided an adequate contained and hidden environment. While the miners were doing their thing, he would train the kids to battle goblins with minimal supervision.

That would certainly separate the wheat from the chaff. He just had to make sure the kids don’t get their heads separated in the process.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Jeremy smiled. Maybe he could have the farmhands go with them along with a smaller snail or two.

But first, he would have to study how the greenie stone worked — track how many goblins it could spawn in a week and how long it took for orcs to start appearing.

He sighed.

There would be a lot of notes and lists in the future.

***

Cedric stared at the terrible visage adorning the gates to his compound. It was a stark reminder that the Scourge was back.

The wizard and his snail gave him a visit a week ago. He said he brought tidings from Evergreen, as well as a souvenir.

How was he to know it was the head of a ghastly beast from the Ice! The snail just threw it up. How could it even fit inside it?

His men were all for it — especially the soldiers. Trophies were all the rage in the kingdom — with nobles collecting heads from griffons, chimeras, even the occasional dragon or roc.

The Scourge even managed to take over the placement of the thing — choosing to place it above the estate’s main gates as a symbol of the power of his office.

The other nobles took it differently — seeing it as some sort of threat made to his person as retaliation for the Scourge’s exile.

Cedric watched a leaf slowly fall. The seasons were changing — and he believed the city would be too.

The Scourge’s return was a catalyst. The Blackstaff’s son had a way of stirring things up or chancing upon disasters that were brewing.

The word he was looking for was fated.

The boy was touched by fate. Luck and disaster converged upon him — making his life more interesting and difficult.

Bountiful certainly shared in his luck — but the Duke wondered if the city would also be affected when the tides turned.

The fated burned brightly before dying out. Very few of them lived to see their hair turn gray.

Many would argue the logic and point to the Blackstaff — but he was more exception than the rule. Where was Sacher, Aonis, Elliwin, or Roth? The names that stood with the Blackstaff were either dead or missing.

Cicero shook his head. Perhaps the Scourge would follow in his father’s footsteps and defy fate.

He hoped it was so.

***

Warden slid his shield to left and swung his sword.

Siege asked him what kind of weapon he wanted. The dwarf said shields and short swords were best when fighting against men or creatures that resembled them. If he wanted to fight monsters, he needed longer swords or maybe a spear.

Warden chose the sword and shield. The only ones attacking the Corner Shop™ and the people associated with it were men.

He would leave the actual monsters to the Scourge — especially after his trip to the duke’s estate.

The duke wanted to check on the Scourge, asking about his well-being and attitude after his trip to the citadel.

He answered honestly, telling the duke that the Scourge seemed happier — as if he returned from a refreshing vacation. He was visibly more energetic — although that ended when he started making the healing drops and Lifesavers for their backed-up orders.

He swung again.

Robin and Fisher were in the smithy, pounding metals with Siege. They wanted to shape the ores they managed to find with the golems, and Siege was happy to instruct them.

Warden frowned. The dwarf would be gone in a few days to return to the life of adventuring. He saw a couple of familiar adventurers visit the past couple of days. They bought equipment and sundries as an excuse to drop by to see the dwarf.

Slide and stab.

The moves he was taught were surprisingly simple. They were limited to short swings and stabs — and always keeping the shield between himself and his opponent.

“You want help with that?”

Warden felt like his life was on the line. He didn’t need to turn to see who it was.

“No, sir,” he replied. “I wouldn’t want to take much of your time.”

“It wouldn’t be a bother,” The Scourge smiled. “In fact, you’ll be helping me.”

The wizard stepped aside to let the intimidating form of his latest golem pass.

Warden stared at his opponent — the centaur golem. It was armored in steel, a shield in one hand and a spear in the other. Its helm was shaped like a lion making it look more terrifying.

“What of the little mages?” he desperately asked, looking for a way out of the fight. “Aren’t you supposed to be teaching them?”

“Oh Shelby has that covered,” the wizard gestured behind him. “Listen.”

He could hear screaming and explosions in the distance. Whatever training Shelby was doing to the little mages — it seemed harsher than the one they got.

Warden exhaled. There was no escaping the four-legged beast.

He raised his shield and readied his sword — waiting for the Scourge’s prompt to attack.

“Wait, wait,” the Scourge approached him holding a sword. “Use that one. Your sword might damage my golem too much.”

Warden sheathed his sword and took the sword that was offered. It was a normal sword that held no enchantments. He twirled it twice to get a feel for its balance and center. He was ready.

“Go.”

He immediately lunged to the side, avoiding his opponent’s spear and moving to its flank. He charged and attempted to strike its body — but the golem’s shield was there to protect it.

His sword struck the shield.

Warden stepped back. He couldn’t believe it — the thing seemed ridiculously weak.

He stood his ground, catching the golem’s strike on his shield. What the hell? There was no weight behind it!

He glanced at the Scourge, trying to figure out if he was playing with him. The wizard seemed lost in thought — looking a bit disappointed.

“Let it stab you once or twice,” he yelled. “Go, horsey! You can do it!”

Warden traded a few more blows with the golem, realizing that it wasn’t the war machine he thought it was. Then again, the other golems were made as menial laborers — maybe this one was the same.

He abandoned thoughts of stabbing the thing in fear that it might upset the wizard. When the golem struck with its spear, he merely closed in and grabbed one of its thick legs.

Warden lifted.

It felt like lifting armor with barely anything underneath.

He slowly placed the struggling golem to its side, careful not to injure it in any way.

“Good job, Warden,” the Scourge praised, though his smile seemed a bit off. “You realized you were fighting a civilian almost instantly. Hehehe.”

Warden stared at the smiling wizard and the still struggling golem. Things were going to get more interesting at the Corner Shop™.