"At your service, my lord," Ladir entered the tent, bowing with a deep respect that reflected in his eyes. Roland, having earned the loyalty of other nobles, had grown into a more charismatic leader. The admiration from those around him was evident, and his transformation into a true lord was undeniable.

Roland had begun his journey as a protector of his people, ready to shield them with one hand and wield a sword to expand his territory with the other.

"I need you to construct an Archer Temple," Roland said softly, revealing a statue—an heirloom of archery skills—before Ladir.

"This... is the Archer Inheritance Statue?" Ladir gasped, surprised by the sight of the statue. The power to inherit such skills could greatly enhance their combat effectiveness.

"Yes, I acquired it by chance," Roland replied with a smile.

"If I may ask, what are the inheritance skills contained within?" Ladir inquired, carefully inspecting the statue.

"Multiple arrows and wild shooting," Roland answered casually.

"That's incredible! Multiple arrows are a game-changer for archers. It will bring out the full potential of our Battanian archers," Ladir exclaimed, stroking his beard with joy.

"Exactly. One Battanian archer will soon be able to fire three arrows at once," Roland said with satisfaction.

"Then we must hurry. We don't know how much time we have before the orcs attack," Roland added, his tone turning serious.

"You're right, my lord, but I'll need sufficient manpower. You wouldn't want this old body to be lugging heavy stones," Ladir said, blinking mischievously.

"Of course not. All the guards of Lagrand City are at your disposal," Roland responded, pulling out a piece of parchment from the table. He dipped a quill in ink and wrote a warrant with a steady hand.

"Mage Ladir, take this to mobilize the necessary manpower," Roland said, handing the signed order to Ladir.

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"My lord, you are truly becoming a king," Ladir remarked as he reached the door, a look of relief on his face.

"Is that so?" Roland murmured to himself, realizing how much he had grown. From his initial panic and retreat in battle to establishing the city, he now carried the bearing of a king. His actions were becoming more deliberate and calculated. A month ago, he might have just sent Ladir off without thinking about the implications of deploying his troops.

Ladir's remark about Roland's maturity was well-founded. In the turbulent world of Middle-earth, a strong and disciplined army was the foundation of any ruler's power. Roland had begun to understand the importance of controlling his forces, ensuring that they followed his commands.

Even though the Lagrandian soldiers summoned by the system were loyal, they were not mindless. They had their own thoughts and could potentially betray him. For example, Reynold had once disobeyed Roland's retreat order, driven by his paladin spirit. While Roland, with his modern mindset of equality, had been able to overlook this at the time, such insubordination would be intolerable for any other superior.

The fact that Reynold had been able to rally nearly all the soldiers despite Roland's orders showed how tenuous Roland's control had been. But now, after countless challenges, Roland had started to embody the power and mentality of a true king. He was learning to be a leader who could command respect and loyalty.

"The winter is so cold... How long before the orcs are upon us?" Roland muttered as he wrapped himself in a cloak and stepped out of the tent. The cold air hit him like a wall, making him shiver and tightening the knot of worry in his chest.

"Hu~" His breath formed a cloud in front of him as he climbed to the top of the city wall.

"Your Highness!" A Dovinian heavy swordsman stood at the top of the wall, covered in snow. Though few people were in the city, the swordsman dutifully guarded the stone steps leading to the wall.

"Thank you for your hard work. Have some hot soup to warm up after your shift," Roland nodded, mindful of the need for strict discipline. He knew enough to understand that while soldiers should avoid alcohol when on duty, a hot broth could still keep them warm.

"Thank you, Your Highness, for your concern," the Dovinian heavy swordsman replied gratefully.

"I'll patrol on my own. There's no need to follow me," Roland said, stopping the swordsman from accompanying him. If there was any danger in Rapid City, Roland figured he could handle it himself. If there was an internal threat, he would face it head-on.

"Your Highness!" A squad of ten Battanian archers passed by on patrol. Roland admired these archers, clad in heavy armor, for their dual role as archers and frontline infantry. They were a versatile and invaluable asset to his forces.

"It's a pity... I've only managed to recruit a hundred of you so far. No matter how many times I sign in, I can't seem to get more," Roland lamented. The Battanian archers were the first and only established ranged unit under his command.

"We'll have the Archer Temple soon. I hope you can master the inheritance skills of multiple arrows and wild shooting before the next battle," Roland encouraged them.

"Thank you for the opportunity, Your Highness!" The Battanian archers knelt on one knee, grateful for the chance to learn skills that were usually out of reach for ordinary professionals. The ability to fire multiple arrows at once could completely change their effectiveness in battle.

"Hahaha, I look forward to seeing your arrows rain down on those damned orcs in the next battle!" Roland said with a grin. He knew that an archer with the ability to fire multiple arrows was in a class of their own.

Where one arrow had been enough, now there would be three, and they wouldn't need to carry as many heavy arrows. Without access to a space quiver, archers often struggled with carrying enough ammunition. Wild shooting would also increase their ability to sustain an attack, transforming them from mere support units into formidable killing machines on the battlefield.

"Haha," Roland chuckled to himself, his anticipation growing for the coming battle and the deadly storm of arrows that would soon rain down on their enemies.