Strith watched the full moon shine over Kome, like a large wheel of cheese, as her master had said. The soft milky light illuminated the new white houses built in Ankon - no, Maximilandria - and the girl wondered how so many changes could have happened in just three months.

The [Hero] looked at her legs, no longer short and stocky, but long and tapered, though still muscular. She brought a hand to her face, softer than before, feeling the light layer of makeup her master had shown her how to wear. He had been embarrassed to do so, but Strith had refused anyone else's help.

Her teacher had told her about her daughter and when he had taught her to wear makeup. It had been an unconventional choice, but extremely reasoned. If Penelope had learned from her mother, she would have soon become expert and beautiful. And someone would have taken her out of her father's arms ahead of time.

Strith's hair had changed too, no longer permanently smeared with soot and ruined by her arrogant hands, which had always prevented Akrith from helping her. They preferred to do things themselves, her hands. Badly, but themselves.

The girl scratched her forearm from the top of her new legs, moving the rolled up sleeve of the red, scaly armour. Her armour was now like a second skin, activated by manipulating her own flow of mana.

Strith could make the relic impossible to penetrate or as light as a robe in the blink of an eye.

"Boss," someone called her.

Strith turned, eyeing one of the Ahali from head to toe. He was perhaps the shortest and smallest of those creatures.

Whenever he was in front of her, she had to make an effort to remember his name.

Filìamo, not Filiàmo.

Her [Secretary] was holding several sheets of cellulose, which the King of the city had produced by cutting about a square kilometer of forest.

Exactly one square kilometer, to produce an entire warehouse full of paper. As if it were necessary to say, he had shown step by step how much a kilometer was before he began to eradicate everything with his magic.

Strith knew that even for a wizard of his caliber it was no small feat. And it was also necessary to create the newborn bureaucratic system of the city. His teacher had been more than happy to make a huge show of that necessity.

"How many people are still homeless, Filiamo?" the girl asked as she walked briskly.

"Three hundred and two," was his swift answer.

Strith slowly rubbed her temples and snorted.

"What are His Majesty's predictions regarding the completion of the buildings?" Strith asked.

Filiamo hesitated to answer. Only uncertain sounds came out of his mouth.

"What did he say this time?" Strith asked, with a smile on her face.

Less amused, Filiamo replied: "Boss, I don't think repeating Maximilian's answer would be useful."

Maximilian.

The King of Maximilandria - or Maximilianides? -, the greatest monster and hero the Vanedenis have seen in a long time. Perhaps ever. And yet, hardy anybody had accepted to call him by his self-appointed title.

Not that Strith expected full submission from the Ahalis for now. But surely she would have expected better from the Vanedenis. Instead, they kept behaving like spoiled girls who had received their first, well-deserved slap.

"Amaze me."

“He said he will finish them soon. This is what he said”, Filiamo replied stiffly.

"Filiamo," Strith patted him on the shoulder, laughing. "Boss ..." he begged her.

The eloquence in Strith's gaze did not leave him many alternatives.

For Strith, the days filled only with anger and frustration were long gone, now that she finally had a purpose in life. But people still feared her.

Above all, she became very upset when someone disrespected their King. Maximilian didn't really care how people addressed him. Strith, on the other hand, was uncompromising. She had proved it after breaking the teeth of three Ahalis and five Vanedenis who had dared to speak inappropriately.

“His words were: Bollocks, Filli, I will finish whenever the fuck I want to, when do you want me to finish? If you want, then I can learn how to build a house every minute, too. I will do it as soon as your father stops smelling of elderberries."

Her master was quite stressed out. But nothing could take a laugh out of Strith's mouth at that moment. Everyone complained of the silly behaviour of the man who now pretended, according to them, to be a noble. She, on the other hand, appreciated his silliness, which hid his terrible seriousness.

If they already had had a sewer system three weeks after the battle, it was certainly not due to formalities, anyway. Now the citizens had plenty of food, an academy for the young, a palace for the bureaucracy - Strith still didn't know what the strange building was, to be honest. She only knew that the city's paperwork was done there.

They also had a new transport system that was being tested. A tram, he called it.

Besides, everyone had a roof on their head. Now all that was needed was to finish the permanent dwellings.

Strith cringed.

On the one hand, the houses were far too beautiful for the modest living standards of Vanedenis and Ahalis. On the other hand, it had taken their King about a month and a half to decide on the design of the houses and then on the urban planning. Sadly, their ruler was like that. His strengths were as great as his defects.

Strith decided there wasn't much to discuss on the subject and changed it: "Did you bring me the names of all the people ready to be officially recruited into the army?"

Filiamo nodded and handed her a series of sheets, held together by a sturdy wooden back.

Strith scanned the names quickly and raised an eyebrow when she finished reading.

"Matthew is missing."

"Todd told me he would talk to him, but for the moment he refused, boss," replied his assistant.

Strith snorted. Todd had gone from being a waste of oxygen to a disciple of Maximilian. He had been forced into that position, unlike her. However, he had proven himself up to responsibility and his character had partially changed.

"Alright, let's go then."

Strith and Filiamo set off down a great long street, skirting the large, newly constructed buildings.

The houses were quite spaced from each other. They were gathered in blocks of four apartments, with large communal gardens. Maintenance had been entrusted to lower-ranking undead, mostly simple skeletons, who regularly pruned lawns and plants.

The houses, beautiful as they were, still lacked a soul. They all looked the same.

But how could one not love the new civilization that the two peoples were creating, day after day, together? Strith could already see it - someday they would be the center of the world, the envy of all races and nations. And she would be there, alongside the greatest necromancer and ruler in the history of her world.

While Strith thought about these things, she found herself in front of a housing complex a little different from the others. The hall was framed by two perfectly trimmed hedges, courtesy of Anna and the undead.

The porch that covered part of the corridor that separated the two houses had columns to support it, like all the other houses. However, the columns were not smooth and simple as Maximilian had created and designed them. They had been enriched with scrolls and deep grooves.

The King had called the style of those columns Ionic and had given her a quick lesson on the most famous architectural styles. Strith had never seen anything like it in her entire life, and it was only thanks to her teacher that she had begun to widen her horizons.

“Themistocles! Mibunum!" called the girl. “Your deliveries have arrived! You have to go to the palace to organize tomorrow's schedule and the whole week!"

Neither showed up.

Well, Strith was forced to use a technique that always proved to be very effect–

Mh?

The girl felt an itch in her neck and turned to look across the street. There was someone. About twenty meters away someone was using a stealth ability to escape the sight of passers-by.

Todd? No, if it were him I wouldn't have noticed.

They had a register of all classes, and only among the Ahalis were there people of high enough level to disappear into the shadows. It had to be a human, someone who didn't belong in the city.

Strith decided that it was not a priority. Maximilian had given very clear instructions regarding these occurrences. He’d thought of everything.

Therefore, all that remained was to return to face the main problem.

“Themistocles! Mibunum!"

She felt the shadow behind her fall onto their backside.

[Call of the Hero]

An ability to use on a battlefield to summon your troops. And she had found other uses for it.

Oh, dear. She hadn't warned Filiamo.

Fortunately, her [Secretary] knew her well by now. Inside the two big bunny ears there were now two corks and a sly smile had appeared on his face.

She looked back at the columns, while she waited for the two big brats to come out of their houses. At the time, the Athenian and the huge Ahali were the most important and at the same time the most useless people in the village. They would certainly have made themselves indispensable, if only they had behaved in a more mature way.

Because of their behavior, most of the administrative tasks had been taken away from them. Now Mummer and Quioiana took care of those things.

Finally a bearded man and a gigantic creature came out of their respective doors, glaring at each other, and then almost started running to see who reached the walkway first.

The lack of anything important to do had made both of them a big deal for Maximilandria - or whatever the new name of the city would be in two days' time.

"Finally," she snorted.

Strith knew Themistocles and Mibunum agreed on one thing, their dislike for her. If Strith had adapted to her master's follies like a fish in a swimming competition, the other two had not been as flexible.

After the misunderstanding at the battle, Themistocles had distanced himself from his friend, continuing to look suspiciously at Strith and her obsession with the necromancer. Mibunum, on the other hand, had hated Maximilian and anyone who had been orbiting him since day one.

Their feelings had hindered their work, so they had not been able to organize the lives of the citizens as Maximilian had asked them to do.

“Themistocles, Mibunum.”

The huge Ahali, almost two meter and a half for two hundred kilos of muscle, walked side by side with the bearded Athenian. The latter wore a chiton, a white vest that softly covered his body. Mibunum wore leather pants, made with the skin of a beast he had killed - as was the custom among the Ahalis - but nothing covered his massive chest, four times wider than Strith.

They both knew where they had to go, but neither of them dared to make an angry gesture. Strith had changed since spending so much time at her master's side, but the core of her character remained the same.

Themistocles and Mibunum had tried to treat her rudely, one of the first times she had taken them out from their houses to take them to the military hall of the city. She had been hard to ignore, though, when she had activated all the magic in her armour and unsheathed one of the most powerful artifacts of her people.

At the very thought of that event, Strith shuddered with a jolt of anger that she immediately held under control.

"Let's go," the girl said, waving her hand to Filiamo.

The [Secretary] waited for Strith, Mibunum, and Themistocles to set out, staying a few steps away.

"How many people were recruited?" Themistocles asked, extending a hand back and waiting for Filiamo to hand him the documents. He took the notebook and examined it.

"Eighty," said Strith.

Mibunum frowned his bushy eyebrows as he ran a hand through his thick beard.

"There aren't many people interested in fighting for a madman," Mibunum's voice boomed darkly.

“Nor many people who can build a city single-handedly in three months. And yet… ”, Themistocles did not take his eyes off the sheets.

Strith was quite amused by those two. Themistocles was a genius of strategy and dialectics and the poor Ahali had yet to win a single argument with him. However, in sparring, Mibunum was unsurpassed.

“His Majesty has communicated that we don't need too many soldiers, actually. His creations would be enough for any conflict. If that's not enough, the few high-level warriors we have should be enough to fight small to medium armies,” Strith explained.

Both commanders glanced at her after hearing for the umpteenth time her master - Maximilian - called His Majesty.

"And for medium-large armies?" Mibunum intervened. "What happens when those dirty humans and the northern Ahali cities send armies to end this abomination of civilization?"

"Maximilian will go to the battlefield and force them to use those armies to train the eighty people who joined his own army."

Themistocles had not yet taken his eyes off the list of names. For a moment he frowned, then he closed the little book and began to read its contents again from the first page.

Strith was about to tell him something, but just then Mibunum clapped Themistocles on the shoulder lightly. The Athenian didn't even look up and shrugged.

Both must have sensed the shadow's presence.

Although Themistocles was no longer Maximilian's right hand, his lack of action meant only one thing: he continued to honour the necromancer with his trust.

…

The stadium that Maximilian had insisted on building was modeled after the Colosseum. The stands never seemed to end and the arena was large enough for multiple couples or groups to train. At the time it was all wood covered with Enchantments, but in the future it would be converted to stone.

Killing was forbidden, but everything else was pretty much okay.

[Paladin of Lost Causes - Level 38]

Matthew used a large rectangular shield to parry the blow from one of the two Ahalis he was facing. With his forearm he prevented the other from hitting him in the face. He rolled back and placed the shield frontally.

[Charge]

A simple but effective skill.

[Shield Impact]

With both skills, his charge was like being hit by a truck at high speed.

The Ahali in front of him pricked up his bunny ears and tried to dodge.

[Forced Aggro]

The Californian slammed his shield in the face of the opponent and, still counting on the momentum of the charge, spun to hit the second opponent, keeping the shield still on the first one's face. The latter, however, tried to dodge.

"Afraid, coward?"

[Provocation]

Matthew did not spare his strength even a little and felt something break on the other side of the shield.

Both Ahalis landed on the ground, while one of the spectators hurried to bring potions to the two elite warriors.

Matthew spat out a clot of blood. It hadn't been an easy battle.

He turned and left, without shaking his opponents hands. Maybe he would come back the next day to train with them, if they had the courage. He was done for today.

"Matthew."

The boy turned and ran a hand over his eyes, which had clouded against his will.

“Anna?”

The girl's hair was all ruffled and she wore a raw cotton tunic, accompanied by her trusty elm staff.

“You went too far,” she said.

Matthew rolled his eyes.

"Okay, okay."

He was beginning to feel tired. He had been sparring all day with his armour on and was starting to feel its weight, despite its special craftsmanship.

Whenever he thought of the metal he was wearing, he couldn't help but think of the blacksmith who had forged it. Matthew clenched his fists and felt the pressure build up.

Three months wasn't long enough.

"You shouldn't be mad at the Ahalis," Anna said.

"I'm not mad at them!"

The woman just shifted her gaze to the two warriors that the others were medicating, then glared at Matthew. She pursed her plump lips in an expression that reminded Matthew of the authority of a judge with the charm of a wild forest.

Matthew stared into her dull eyes for a few moments: the girl's gaze had become empty since the battle, making her seem perpetually distracted.

He wasn't the only one who had lost someone.

Anna went to him often enough to spend time away from her class, which undoubtedly reminded her of Camilla. And Matthew talked with her to forget the armour and the deaths for a few moments.

“Would you like a drink? Maximilian and I finished fermenting the wines and created a drink similar to gin from the loeiszine berry."

Matthew shrugged and nodded.

"Would you help me with ..." Matthew pointed to the upper part of the armour.

Anna helped him remove it and the Californian put it inside his duffer bag.

They walked to the town pub.

Out of the corner of his eye Matthew caught a very strange movement and slipped his hand near the hilt of the sword.

"You know the rules," Anna whispered, putting her hand on his arm.

Matthew threw a last glance towards the unknown shadow, surrounded by an aura he had never encountered before. He decided to let it go and relax.

They arrived at their destination after a few minutes.

Some tables had been set up outside the pub. There were several mounds of raised ground, covered with soft and welcoming grass, on which to sit. Many patrons carried a sheet to spread out on the ground, instead of sitting at the tables.

All around there were fires that fluctuated and changed color, going from blue to pink, from red to yellow. The air smelled of comfort and calmness, stained by the flowers and plants Anna had helped grow.

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On the flat parts of the lawn there were wrought iron tables created by Drenger, who had never worked so hard in his entire life.

Matthew just had to close his eyes for a second to hear what Neri would say.

All these chairs to do and reinforce for those monkeys that weigh two tons?

He would have cursed to no end, and then resume telling him how much, according to him, Camilla was wooing him.

Thinking back to the other Earthling they had lost, he turned to Anna, finding the vacant gaze that scanned the various tables to find a free one.

The woman's pupils moved swiftly, in contrast to the indolence of her movements.

"There", pointed Anna.

They both sat down, still not breaking the strange silence that had been created between them. There was an impenetrable barrier between their thoughts, although it was evident that something was bothering them.

A skeleton dressed as a maid came swiftly, another of Maximilian's foolish inventions.

"Two gin tonic, please," ordered Anna.

As soon as the waiter left, Anna broke the silence between them. “We were able to recreate plants similar to ours from shoots found here on Kome. Maximilian got me some specimens that are not found around the city and from there we made a sort of champagne, and gin. It wasn't easy, but the result isn't bad. "

Matthew remained silent and did not comment.

"Have you joined the new army?" Anna asked to change the subject.

“No.”

Matthew looked around, observing the Ahalis at the other tables and the Vanedenis who looked at them mostly with distrust. The attempt to mix the two populations continued to be unsuccessful.

“You are one of the highest level warriors and have a class suited to close combat,” was Anna's comment.

"Did you join the army?" Matthew frowned.

"Of course."

The answer caught him off guard.

"After ..." Matthew struggled to find the words.

“After Camilla's death, yes. After Neri's death, yes. After half of us died. After the death of Tukker and also of the Vanedenis who helped us survive for a whole month. We are building something beautiful here. We don't attack anyone, but we need to defend ourselves."

Something beautiful.

Matthew made a face that Anna did not appreciate at all.

"It's not easy, but you always said that we are in a fantastic world, where everything is possible."

Matthew almost snatched the wooden cup from the hands of the skeleton who had arrived with their order. He took a sip to fill his mouth and avoid speaking.

“Mh?”

The drink was sweeter than a normal gin.

"We did a good job with the plants, even if the bulk of the credit goes to Maximilian."

Matthew nodded cautiously.

"So?" Anna asked.

"So what?" Matthew really didn't want to talk about this topic.

“Todd is enjoying this world more than you. Last night I went with him to eat fish and chips and he complained very little."

Matthew lowered the corners of his mouth in a sad grimace and felt something attack his eyes and make them water. It had not been the comparison with Todd, towards whom he really had no grudge, even after he had stabbed him.

There was another person in the city whose name he didn't want to hear, who he wouldn't talk about and whose existence he was trying to forget. He was trying to forget the person who represented everything that was built on the ground he walked on.

"There's nothing wrong with thinking you want to get out of this mess," was Anna's calm and measured comment, almost like a cat's purr.

Matthew was surprised. Anna had a slow, languid way of talking that made her appear more stupid than she was.

Still, the woman had hit the mark.

Matthew no longer loved that place as he had done at the beginning. When Maximilian, on the third day of training, had showed him how to keep his position he had been ecstatic. He still remembered all the happiness he felt in those moments, the awareness of being in a world of heroes.

He had been affected by the deaths of Tukker and the soldiers he had made friends with. But Neri's death had been the accident that had turned the world upside down.

“I haven't leveled up since the battle. I don't like to train anymore. I am angry. I'm pissed. I am furious. I am so many things."

His monotone voice betrayed the emotions that could be seen in his bright eyes.

Anna moved her mouth to one side, almost as if it were getting in the way.

"Maximilian said he can take you dragon hunting, if it cheers you up."

Matthew gritted his teeth and closed his eyes, letting tears fall on the table. Slowly, after a few seconds of concentrating on breathing, he returned his gaze to Anna.

“The most terrible thing… Anna, the most terrible thing is that I didn't think I wanted anything else from my life. But now I can't even enjoy what I thought was my greatest dream. When I see Maximilian, I remember everything that I am not enjoying. When I hear his name I think of the adventures I could have, but I no longer feel any of the happiness I felt."

Then he saw in Anna's empty eyes a flash of uncertainty, which was enough for him. He got up from the table and began to make his way through all the people who were arriving to have a drink.

Anna did not have the answers he needed, the solution he yearned for so much.

She wanted to follow him, but was distracted by the shadow that seemed to haunt the city. Not that she could do much, Maximilian's orders had been quite clear: he would take care of it.

When she looked in the direction in which Matthew was, he was already gone.

Anna sighed.

She hoped the night would bring her advice.

Or an adviser.

…

Eudokia's gaze passed over her three students. Unfortunately no one, except the parents of those children, had yet given in to trusting Maximilian and his plans.

Unlike the necromancer, she had no love for cubs (of whatever species they were), but she had agreed to teach them anyway.

She only hoped that the patience that had accompanied her in so many years of reign had not vanished in so many years of solitude.

"Dreshi, do you remember what we said about the Phoenixes?"

Dreshi raised a hand in a gesture that any other person on Earth would have found extremely cute.

"They were killed by the Phoenicians!" Eudokia nodded and Dreshi pumped a fist in front of his face, as if he had just won something.

"And...?"

Dreshi frowned his soft, round face in a thoughtful expression.

"They were birds that flew?" ventured the child.

Eudokia grinned at the thought that the Phoenixes, creatures more arrogant than dragons, could be compared to mere birds of prey.

He saw Dreshi's sister, her cheek pinched with one hand, trying to stifle a yawn with little success.

The other boy, much hairier than the two of them, the [Mayor]’s nephew, raised a shaky hand. The woman's pale eyes were almost white in the artificial light of the globes. Unfortunately, this terrified her student.

"Yes, Xium?"

“The Phoenixes lost the war against the Phoenicians. We call Phoenixes the legendary creatures who were strong as dragons and Phoenicians their descendants, who were used as slaves, as happened for us Ahalis with dragons."

Eudokia took a deep breath and nodded.

“Great job, Xium, don't forget to show me your handwriting later. Writing exercises are essential. The greatest thinkers of this world did their thinking on paper, no matter what race they belonged to."

“Yes, master Eudokia,” Xium said.

“The cubs of the Ahalis, unlike the Phoenicians, are not yet immune to the terror they feel towards dragons. And this happens because of the rabbit genes they have. They often suffer from very high anxiety and feel too much pressure, so much so that their population has been able to invent some of the best remedies for these ailments”, commented Eudokia, observing Xium.

She was sure she had repeated that at least five times, but the nature of the aAali people was always capable of drawing the attention of all three of her students.

"Dreshi, have you done the exercises?" Eudokia was terrified of the answer that would come shortly thereafter.

"Yup!" The boy fumbled for a moment with the wooden sword he was dragging everywhere and pulled some sheets of paper from a leather backpack. Strith had given it to him, under Maximilian's advice. The necromancer had explained that, in his world, human cubs used it to store tools for use in class.

Eudokia saw an unidentified block of grease, soot and sticky stuff emerge from the backpack.

She moved her hand and the pad of paper, wrapped in leather, flew towards her. She moved it again and the block was cleaned of all traces of dirt.

Her students wore an ecstatic expression to say the least. They were always fascinated by the use of magic.

A quick glance between the pages made Eudokia breathe a sigh of relief. Dreshi had terrible handwriting, because the boy had an uncontrolled natural strength that made him break all the pencils that had been given to him. Still, he had done all the exercises, even though he mostly got them wrong.

The five-year-old had saved himself and her from a series of reproaches.

Drenger and Akrith, the blacksmith and his wife, had given their children some discipline. And Xium was not lacking in manners either.

Well, few but good, the woman said to herself

"Today's lesson will focus on magic."

Eudokia made those words hang in the air for a few moments before continuing.

"Akala, can you tell me what affects magic most of all?" Eudokia asked.

The little girl had two big blue eyes, like her brother. However, instead of his blond hair, she had a flowing chestnut mane, a gift from her mother.

“Magic is a function of our mind's ability to process the complexity of the individual elements that are contained in a spell. The simplest magic to learn is the one that allows you to create a floating globe of light because it has only one component, light in a defined space."

The little girl coldly recited the words Eudokia had said two lessons earlier. It had been two days, and she still remembered everything so well? She must have taken very detailed notes or been listening with incredible attention.

“Almost completely right. I said it can be approximated to one component. The spatial factor can be considered as a component in itself, although no one teaches it."

Eudokia observed the total confusion on Dreshi and Xium's faces as Akala frowned and squinted. She was not a brilliant pupil like Eudokia had seen in the past. After all, she was a human. Still, she wasn't bad for a bag of flesh and blood.

"What is the spatial factor, master?" Xium raised a hand and then pulled his neck back almost into his shoulders.

"The position of your magic," the woman explained, causing two balls of light to appear in midair. “Creating a stationary, or immobile, ball of light is the simplest thing to do. The second step is to make it move."

The two globes of light moved, tracing eights in midair. After a few seconds, the woman began to change their shape. One globe took on a gaseous form, the other a liquid one.

Dreshi watched the whole show with a sly smile. Eudokia sighed.

[The Dreams of Your Subjects are Yours]

He saw the child in the midst of a sea of unidentified monsters, a mixture of hydras and some creature that must have been created from his imagination.

Eudokia would have been almost impressed by the massacre carried out by little Dreshi in his mind, if he weren't brandishing a wooden sword right in front of her.

"Eudokia, why don’t we continue the exercises with magic?"

Akala was insolent, not at all afraid of her.

Their teacher put a little magic in her eyes, as when she still wore her royal robes.

"A minimum of good manners will get you very far in life."

The little girl stiffened in place and almost shat her pants. But that didn't stop her at all.

"A real Vanedeni doesn't have to talk like a prostitute looking for clients," was Akala's response.

It was obvious that the little girl had heard that phrase before and was repeating it thanks to her incredible memory. For all ingrown scales, she was seven! Many humans, at her age, still soiled their garments with their disgusting bodily excretions.

A simple reproach would not have been enough for that insolent little one.

Thus, Eudokia decided to take advantage of the gift that Maximilian had given her. Since the necromancer had named her Queen of the village, her abilities had become even more powerful, regaining their former glory.

[A Regal Heart Never Lies]

“You don't have to beg, just be courteous. Respecting other people shows your strength and theirs alike."

The three looked at her as if the words had just stuck inside them. To be precise, that was a pretty accurate description of what had just happened.

Eudokia's gaze was caught by a quick movement beyond the large empty tables, which should have served as desks, beyond the windows. A shadow watched their lesson with no less amazement than Xium had on his face.

She could already observe his class - his classes, in fact - and his levels. However, when she wanted to reach the deepest parts of a person, she needed help ...

[True Sight Belongs to Those Who Reign]

Another man afflicted with the pain of love?

It seemed that the Harbingers had taken pleasure in transforming this world into a rose-tinted drama.

He looked deeper and saw the duality of the shadow's nature. There wasn't the malice she would have expected after a first cursory glance. No, there was only greed, but it hid something deeper, an intimate and inviolable need.

Studying the shadow would lead to nothing, and furthermore there was Maximilian's prohibition to be respected. It was the necromancer who had to test him, whatever that meant.

However, she decided to give the brokenhearted man a present. Before he was reached by city law.

[Regal Blessing - A True Talent Doesn't Develop By Itself]

At that point the shadow winced and ran away from the window.

In the past, Eudokia had been very thrifty with her skills. She had had so many subjects that it was difficult to be just and fair to everyone. However, in this new village, it was necessary to make things work with what little they had available.

“Well, let's start the exercises,” Eudokia clapped her hands and concentrated again on the three little rascals in front of her.

For some reason, Dreshi bit his wooden sword, only to let out a moan.

…

Akrith observed the quality of the metals that Maximilian had brought into Drenger's forge with a clinical eye.

“His Majesty has made himself more than useful. Look, no impurity."

Drenger found himself practically kissing an iron ingot.

"Woman," snorted the blacksmith, "can you torment someone else while I work?"

The man was looking at the chairs and tables he had produced. Wrought iron had called it Maximilian. It was a kind of more flexible and less pure steel. The necromancer had called it mild.

"Not that there's much for me to do!" the woman commented, watching her husband's muscles flex and bend as he worked the metal with his bare hands thanks to his skills. “I could make another baby, maybe,” she suggested again, licking her lips and placing a hand on Drenger's muscles.

"Woman, I swear if you make me bend this steel in the wrong direction and I have to redo it, you'd better find someone else to continue your lineage."

Akrith stepped back and rolled her eyes.

Her husband was not the most insightful person in this world, but he had a great passion for forging. It didn't matter that he would never become a legendary blacksmith like one of their great heroes, it was enough for him to do his job in the best possible way.

The woman was left with little to do. She pulled out of her duffer bag, another of their ruler's great gifts, a bone spear. She balanced it on her hand. It was about two and a half meters long, sharp, and so pointed that she was almost scared to handle it near her children.

Almost.

Akrith was a [Spear Expert].

Themistocles used the weapon with deadly efficiency. She, on the contrary, like a martial artist.

Drenger did not even notice the graceful movements that the woman began to make in the huge forge built by their King. Akrith still did not understand how her husband refused to use the appropriate title for the man.

Akrith felt that she was being watched during her training. Since Drenger was unlikely to pay attention to her while he worked, there must be some stranger outside the forge. An intruder.

Seeing no one, the woman deduced that whoever was spying on them had used a skill. She felt her hands itch: she really wanted to throw herself back into battle. However, he remembered very well the rules set by Maximilian and the punishments for those who broke them.

It had been half an hour since Akrith had started one of her own routines, but Drenger knew she would soon be back on the offensive.

"What will we eat at the canteen today?"

Speak of the devil.

Drenger remained focused on some of the pipes he was welding together thanks to the techniques the necromancer explained to him. How that cheap-ass wizard knew so much about metallurgy was beyond his imagination. Thanks to him he had already gained a dozen levels.

"Drenger."

There was so much work for him to do, so much for him to forge. There was no time to lose.

"Drenger!"

The blacksmith took a very deep breath and turned to his wife.

“Tell me."

How could he be so calm, so unwilling to listen to the words of the woman who shared a bed with her? If she hadn't loved the man in front of her so much, Akrith would have put him on her spear long ago.

"Do you ever think about the world the Earthlings talk about?"

She still had to get used to that name.

"They have studied metals very well."

Her husband's laconic comment did not surprise her.

If Akala had taken the clarity of mind from her mother, albeit in a negative way, Dreshi had received from his father a mind capable of thinking only of one thing.

"They are strange, don't you think?" Akrith went to her husband again and squeezed his arm. This time, however, not with lust in her eyes but with a sweet grip.

Drenger turned to his wife and brushed her hair from her sweaty forehead.

“Strange, dangerous. Even heroes and Kings. Both at the same time, it seems,” said the blacksmith, putting down his creations and tools.

“The others are not like Maximilian, Drenger. Except for Todd, the others are more lost children than anything else. At times they remind me of us, when we moved here from Sataria. Tukker had to yell at us all the time to prevent us from getting into trouble and starving for some stupid mistake."

“I miss Tukker,” said the blacksmith. He had appreciated the [Captain], who had later become [Stormbreaker Captain]. He had always been a beacon of calm and coldness among the hot spirits of the citizens, able to guide them towards the most sensible solutions and which would guarantee their survival.

"I know it. However, you have to admit that Maximilian is giving us back all the greatness of being Vanedenis. And he also decided to give it to our enemies. If that's not a heroic move."

Drenger groaned in exasperation. He was not very interested in the legendary stories and lineages of his people.

Drenger liked metals, hammers and pliers. And forges, crucibles and many other things that Maximilian promised to build together with him.

Talking about how great this or that hero had been had never been a great pastime for him.

“Tomorrow I'll invite Matthew and Strith for dinner. The boy really needs it."

Drenger looked at her confused.

"And what is Strith for?"

“To threaten Matthew with death if he doesn't want to come. We have her deliver the invitation. I really want to see him say no to the right hand of the craziest person in the whole village,” Akrith said.

"Your King, you mean," Drenger pointed out.

"Exactly," the woman puffed out her chest with a note of pride in her voice.

"If he hadn't let so many people die unnecessarily before intervening, I would reserve him the same admiration that you honour him with," commented the blacksmith.

"This again? He armed us, gave us artifacts and relics. There are two heroes in the same era and one is so powerful that he has the other as a disciple. Drenger, no Vanedeni worthy of their name should complain about a couple of dead people. We won."

The man was lost in thought for a moment.

“I suppose you are right. Let's see what shape the future will take then. "

Akrith gave her husband a slap on the bottom and whispered, "I have a half idea of how the future might be in the next hour."

Drenger looked at all the work that was scattered between the forge, counter and anvil. And he decided it could wait at least a little while more.

…

Maximilian watched the five houses around him as he manipulated the complicated array of spells he was using to build their foundation. According to the composition of the soil, he had to adjust the parameters and criteria. However, he had found a way to make the whole process fairly automatic, from the foundation to the connection to the sewer system.

He had promised Paola that he would not be a perfect fool like in his past life. However, he still had to work hard for his subjects. On the other hand, he participated in all the dinners, lunches and events that were organized in his new city, Maximilandria.

No, Maximilianides.

No, he had decided for Maximilandria, his memory suggested.

Maximilianides was not bad, though.

Maximilianopolis had to be taken into consideration, too.

The walls of one of the houses were starting to come out of the ground, compacting the minerals and compressing them hard thanks to the mana he was providing them.

Three months ago, he wouldn't have been able to do all those things together.

Maximilian had taken some time to expand his mana reserves and hone his control over it. If there had been, in this world, someone as old as him, they would surely have made fun of him for his incapacity. But, fortunately, no one was there to scold him. Indeed, everyone was amazed by his exploits.

Mh!

He noticed, about twenty meters below the foundations of one of the houses, an iron deposit of several tens of tons.

He scratched his head and made a face.

"Bollocks, this continent is so rich that not even the Chinese could plunder it all."

He let out a smile on his face and a wink at a specific point on the road.

He'd already found enough underground mines that he didn't really need to dig that up, too.

Kome was practically more like a huge mountain in the middle of the sea than a continent. The coasts were cliffs 4000 meters above the sea at the lowest points.

He looked into the distance at his tower. He had expanded it and made it even more majestic.

The biggest problem was that Eudokia didn't take well to the phallus drawing on a wall. And so she had seen fit to embarrass the necromancer.

"That damned woman must have tied such a powerful Enchantment to my drawing," he said theatrically, pointing to the huge black tower.

Eudokia had used her magic to make the symbol a kind of living, pulsating totem. In 3D. With unusually realistic details.

Sure, bollocks, the fact that the huge cock contributed to the fertility of the crops and his kingdom was great, but he would have appreciated another kind of gift from his new royal consort.

Maximilian shivered for a moment.

No, not consort.

He shook his head.

He had appointed Eudokia as his co-ruler, so that her abilities would affect his kingdom.

Destroying both villages had left them without food supplies. It hadn't been one of his most brilliant moves, he had to admit. Fortunately, his Queen was not a grudge-prone person.

And most importantly, she had grown fond of Ankon's humans more than she wanted to show.

Now, the most important question was when would the first immigrants arrive. Whether he liked it or not, he was behind schedule. He should have already finished all the houses for his own citizens and started those for future residents.

Unfortunately, he had also decided to force himself to sleep at least six hours every night. It was more a matter of principle than of real use, but it had taken away a quarter of his productivity.

There were so many things to do and so little time to do them.

And he also had to fight against the Vanedeni and Ahali pride. Only a small part of the population had accepted him as the new ruler. An even smaller part had decided to work for the city. The rest of the people hated him a little too much.

“Bollocks, what can I do. I hope it wasn't also because of the house issue. Now, why would it be my fault if we have to build a nice-looking city?"

The necromancer had slowed down his plans because of the design. For weeks he had been unsure of what to do, much to the chagrin of the citizens. Then, finally, he had opted for blocks of four houses and very wide paved streets.

The houses had the same relaxed and peaceful atmosphere as the village of Santorini, but the elegance and structure of villas on the Roman hills. It was a deliberate choice, considering all the space they had and the fact that Maximilian intended to build a tram line as soon as possible. Without electricity, of course. They had magic, there was no point in polluting this world unnecessarily.

The shadow that had been watching him for some minutes began to go away.

"Ohi, Baghdad, don’t you know that immigrants are assessed one by one by the King of the city himself and that they have to undergo a very demanding test?"

The shadow froze for a second, then tried to escape.

“Ohi, you, [Thief] and [Administrator] from Afghanistan, don't make me come all the way to get you, come on. Come here, I have thought nuts to crack. Indeed, no nuts, a whole bag of coconuts. Come on, come on, cunt."

The shadow turned back, evidently surprised.

An olive-skinned man stepped out of the shadows.

“You are the first person in this city who notices my presence. But above all, Baghdad is not in Afghanistan,” said the thief and former administrator.

“Listen, Attenborough of Samarkand, first, don’t you play silly buggers with me. Two, above all I think that almost everyone has already noticed you. You're an idiot if you think someone only at level two can go around catwomaning in my city. Third, they didn't tell you anything because there is a test to pass. And the test is administered only by the King. It is not allowed to disturb visitors and immigrants who do not interact with the inhabitants first. This is because the test is the most important thing for those who want to stay or live here."

A frown took shape on the other's face.

"What test?"

“The most difficult one. What is the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow, cunt?"

The strange King of the city doubled over and choked with laughter.

The newcomer could grasp a minimum of the hilarity of the joke. However, if that famous Maximilian had planned all that for a shoddy, fifty-year-old joke, he had to give him some credit.