Roland stared at the system screen, the words "Main Quest: If You Want to Wear a Crown, You Must Bear Its Weight" glaring back at him. The task was daunting: build a city worthy of a king's name, complete with fortified walls, defensive structures, essential workshops, and a population of 5,000 Lagrand civilians.

His first reaction was disbelief. "Are you serious?" he muttered, scrolling through the detailed requirements. A small town with such minimal requirements could hardly be considered a kingdom. But then again, he mused, Bard had ruled River Valley City with far less. Still, the demand for 5,000 Lagrand civilians gnawed at him. This was Middle Earth—where would he find them?

"System, what’s the deal with these civilians?" Roland asked, hoping for a loophole.

"Please check the territory page," the system responded, its tone cold and unyielding.

With a sigh, Roland opened the territory page and was met with a sobering sight. The page displayed his lone territory: Rapid City, a shadow of what he had imagined.

**Territory: Rapid City**

- **Area**: One kilometer in radius

- **Construction Units**: Dilapidated lord’s castle, crumbling dwellings, shabby stone walls, and a well barely fit for use

- **Troops**: 203

- **Population**: 0

- **Evaluation**: A relic offering little more than shelter from the elements. The town’s sole redeeming feature is its strong military presence. Note: There are no civilians in the town!

But then, something caught his eye in the territory's abilities.

1. **Attraction of Lagrand's Remnants**: As the only territory of the Lagrand Kingdom in Middle Earth, it will draw in Lagrand’s remnants. The system will guide a wave of wandering Lagrand civilians to arrive daily.

2. **Recruitment of Civilians**: Civilians in Rapid City can be trained into infantrymen.

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Roland’s frustration ebbed away, replaced by cautious optimism. The system, usually as stingy as a miser, was offering him a steady influx of Lagrand civilians, who could be trained into soldiers. Perhaps all was not lost.

“Look! Those are our wandering clansmen!” shouted one of the Batanian archers from his post. Sure enough, a small group of bedraggled refugees appeared on the horizon, carrying with them the tattered remnants of Lagrand’s banner.

Roland's excitement faded when he saw their condition. There were only seven of them, and only two were adults. The rest were children, all of them exhausted and undernourished.

Before he could speak, the refugees dropped to their knees, startling him. “Dragon God above! To see a lord of Lagrand again... We thought they were all gone!” the lead man choked out, tears streaming down his face.

Roland reached out to help them to their feet, a heavy sense of responsibility settling over him. “You’re safe now. The Empire’s army will protect you. You won’t have to leave your home again.” His voice was firm, but inside, he felt the weight of the crown he now bore.

He glanced back at the territory page, noting the population had risen to seven. “At this rate, it’ll take forever to reach 5,000,” he thought with a mix of frustration and determination.

“Alert!” Reynold’s voice cut through Roland’s thoughts. The camp sprang into action, everyone rushing to the walls. The newly arrived refugees huddled by a dilapidated wooden house, a testament to how deeply fear had ingrained itself into their lives.

“What’s wrong?” Roland asked, leaping up onto the stone wall.

“A war mage is approaching! I can feel the magic of a fourth-order mage,” Reynold replied, his tone serious. While the war mage wouldn’t pose a threat to Reynold or the Dragon Knight Caslow, the rest of Roland’s troops—and Roland himself—could be easily overwhelmed by such powerful magic.

“War Mage?” Roland’s mind raced as he recalled the Griffin and Earth Mage he had purchased from the system.

“Don’t be too hasty; it might be one of ours. More and more Lagrand survivors are returning,” Roland said, trying to cover his tracks.

Reynold remained vigilant. “Even so, we must be cautious. Rapid City is still fragile.”

Just then, a booming voice echoed across the field. “Respected King Lagrand! Ladir is at your service!” An elderly man in a khaki robe rode up on a thin horse, his voice surprisingly clear despite the distance.

Roland smiled, recognizing the war mage. “Welcome, Mage Ladir! May the glory of the empire shine on you and me forever,” he called back, descending from the wall to greet the old man.

Ladir bowed deeply. “Your Highness, I bring you five griffin eggs as a gift.”

Caslow, unable to contain his excitement, rushed forward to examine the eggs. “The Dragon God above! There really are five!”

“Let’s find you a place to stay, Mage Ladir. Caslow, take care of the eggs,” Roland said, gesturing toward the simple accommodations.

Ladir looked around, his eyes widening as they fell on Caslow. “A Dragon Knight? Your Highness, you have indeed been favored by Lagrand!” he exclaimed, clearly impressed.

“Haha, well, we could use your help with construction,” Roland replied, recognizing that Ladir’s earth magic would be invaluable for rebuilding the city.

As the group moved to make preparations, Roland glanced back at the newly arrived refugees, who were being settled into makeshift shelters. Their gratitude was palpable, their eyes filled with hope for the first time in years.

“Thank you, sir,” one of the refugees choked out.

Roland smiled, though his heart was heavy. “Tomorrow will be better,” he assured them, turning his gaze to the swift river that flowed beside their fledgling city.

The weight of the crown was indeed heavy, but with each passing day, Roland grew more determined to bear it. The future of Rapid City—and the revival of the Lagrand Empire—depended on it.