Uncertain of how much time had passed, Roland, who was dozing in his cabin, was suddenly awakened by a cacophony of urgent knocks and the hoarse voice of Robert.

“My lord! My lord! Please come out, we are approaching Crab Island!”

Roland jolted upright, a surge of energy coursing through him.

Crab Island was near!

He quickly rose, flung open the door, and rushed onto the deck.

Already, more than twenty of his followers had gathered there, their faces filled with relief as they gazed at the lush, verdant island ahead.

For most of them, who had never even seen the sea before, the long hours adrift had been torturous. A few looked pale and unsteady, as if drained of life by a succubus.

Seeing Roland emerge, everyone immediately bowed.

“My lord!”

Roland paid little heed to their courtesies and swiftly moved to the bow, his heart racing as he beheld the approaching island.

Was this truly his domain?

The sight of the verdant, sprawling island filled Roland with a newfound excitement.

And it seemed his task was nearly accomplished!

He wondered how much his power would increase. If he could ascend to the rank of Silver Knight, it would be a joyous surprise indeed.

At that moment, on the island's humble harbor, a group of individuals awaited them with eager anticipation—likely the island’s administrators and officials.

Soon, the ship neared the port. At the captain's command, the sailors busied themselves, lowering the sails and slowing the ship until it finally docked.

Without hesitation, Roland disembarked under the watchful eyes of his followers, stepping onto the pier.

In that instant, the task panel he had been monitoring finally updated.

[Task]: Arrive at your territory (Completed)

[Reward]: Power Upgrade

Though the task now bore the “completed” mark, Roland felt no immediate change in his strength. There was no surge of power, not even a hint of progress, let alone an elevation to Silver Knight.

Just as Roland pondered this, he was brought back to reality by the sound of a welcoming voice.

“Noble Baron, welcome to Crab Island. Your presence here is an immense honor!”

Roland looked and saw a slightly portly, balding man bowing deeply with a hand over his chest, followed by a dozen others.

Roland nodded and smiled.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

“You must be Clayton, the island’s steward?”

The portly man’s face lit up with surprise.

“Indeed, my lord! I am honored that you know my name!”

As the lord of Crab Island, Roland had naturally acquainted himself with its affairs.

Clayton, who had been managing the island for nearly a decade, seemed to lack significant capability. Despite his tenure, the island remained impoverished and underdeveloped—a stark contrast to even the slightest hint of prosperity that might have spared Roland from his father’s decision to send him here.

Roland smiled at Clayton.

“Crab Island thrives under your governance, Clayton. How could I not be aware?”

Clayton’s face beamed with apparent joy, though its sincerity was questionable.

Roland then mounted his steed, brought from home, and followed Clayton towards Pearl Town, the island’s sole settlement.

Horses were scarce on the island, and most were poor-quality hybrids. Of the nearly forty people heading to Pearl Town, only five were mounted. Besides Roland’s fine horse, his captain of the guard, Andre, and his steward, Robert, also rode. The rest of the mounts were ridden by Clayton and his deputy, Oliver, while the others followed on foot. Three cartloads of belongings, brought from Roland’s home, also accompanied them, requiring several trips to transport everything.

Fortunately, Pearl Town was not far from the port. In a short time, Roland saw low buildings come into view, with gaunt, ragged residents eyeing them curiously.

Dilapidation, desolation, hunger, and filth...

These were Roland’s first impressions of Pearl Town, prompting him to frown. Having grown up in the prosperous War Banner City, he found it hard to fathom such destitution.

Though he had expected hardship, the reality was a harsh slap in the face.

As they entered Pearl Town, Clayton’s guards began driving the onlookers away with whips.

“Get back! You filthy peasants, don’t sully the baron’s sight!”

The whips lashed out, sending the residents fleeing in terror.

Seeing this, Roland sighed and said,

“Just disperse them. There’s no need for whipping.”

Clayton looked momentarily embarrassed but quickly complied.

“Yes, my lord, you are truly merciful.”

He promptly ordered his men to stop the whipping.

The twenty-plus followers who had accompanied Roland from home looked at him with surprise and disbelief. Known for his debauchery and cruelty in War Banner City, Roland's sudden change was unexpected.

Even Andre, who had always despised Roland for his wanton ways, found his perception slightly altered by this act of mercy. Robert, too, showed a trace of surprise and doubt on his face.

The guards, now unable to use their whips, had no choice but to politely usher the townsfolk aside.

With curious eyes following them, Roland and his entourage reached the luxurious residence that served as his lordship's manor.

Compared to the dilapidated houses of Pearl Town, the manor was indeed luxurious, though it would be modest by War Banner City standards, comparable to a middle-class home rather than a noble’s abode.

By now, it was evening. The manor was brightly lit, with a sumptuous feast prepared. As Roland and his men entered, they found the table laden with delicacies and bottles of rich wine—luxuries beyond the reach of the common folk on Crab Island.

“My lord, you must be famished after your journey. Please, take your seat and dine!” Clayton said, his face a picture of obsequiousness.

Roland smiled graciously and took his seat at the head of the table, raising his glass of Portland wine to his followers.

“Thank you, Sir Clayton, for the welcome feast. Please, everyone, eat and drink to your heart’s content. Let the banquet begin! Cheers!”

He downed his glass in one gulp...

...and immediately winced.

Bitter, harsh...

The wine was of poor quality, unlike the fine Romanee-Conti he was accustomed to in Portland Province. It tasted like swill compared to the smooth, rich wines he favored.

Still, given his current situation, Roland said nothing. Crab Island didn’t produce wine, and with its economy, such inferior wine was the best they could afford.

Fortunately, Roland had brought a few crates of Romanee-Conti with him to quench his thirst when needed.

Unlike Roland, the others had no such refined tastes and praised the wine heartily.

Roland put down his glass and began eating the food...

...which, to his relief, was quite good. Though the ingredients were simple, the flavors were well-crafted.

Delicious almond pudding, creamy tomato soup, savory smoked sausage, and juicy roast beef...

In Crab Island, these were rare treats indeed.

Everyone enjoyed the food and wine to their hearts’ content...

...until the last guest had departed, and the embers of the bonfire had died out.