The day had just begun to stir, the lingering chill of winter vanishing beneath the onset of spring. Breannus, his tall and lanky frame draped in a patchwork cloak, stood with a small gathering of friends and acquaintances outside the clinic. They kept a respectful distance, careful not to disrupt the healing flow within.
Breannus felt the subtle warmth of Skaldur's power seep out from the clinic's stone walls, embracing him like a long-lost friend. As he closed his eyes and focused on the sensation, he could feel the Lord's healing energy coursing through his veins.
Suddenly, a newcomer appeared: a young woman with a newly healed broken leg. Breannus couldn't help but notice the trepidation in her eyes as she joined their daily gathering.
"Welcome, Elona," Breannus said, flashing her a warm smile. "The Lord's healing magic is a wondrous thing, isn't it?"
Elona nodded, still uncertain, but Breannus could sense her curiosity piqued. He closed his eyes once more, letting the power of Skaldur wash over him. He could smell the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers in the air and feel the warmth of the sun on his skin.
Just standing here made him energised and ready to tackle the day.
Standing there, Breannus felt a surge of energy, ready to tackle whatever the day held. But his excitement was not shared by Elona. She glanced around anxiously, taking in the clinic, the passersbys, and the others gathered with them. Despite the miraculous healing of her broken leg, it was clear she still harboured doubts.
Little did Breannus know how fortuitous her timing was. Just as he opened his mouth to reassure her, her head snapped around, and gasps filled the air as all of their eyes fixed on a plummeting figure.
Against the pitch-black tower, highlighted by the golden sun, the shape fell, flailing and wild, in total freefall with the wind rushing past. Breannus' heart stopped as he realised what it was.
"Is that...?" he whispered.
"From up there...?" the others murmured in hushed, inquisitive tones, but Breanus was already moving. His legs carried him forward like they had a mind of their own, his rough-shod shoes pounding against the cobbled street. The others sprinted to keep up with him.
It was clear they weren’t the only ones chasing after the falling person; throngs of people were crowding the streets, rushing towards the tower at varying speeds.
Thankfully, the clinic was right close by, and Breannus slid to a stop as all he could do was stop and stare at the falling person, cursing his uselessness.
He lacked power, the ability to help. He wasn’t like the doctors, blessed with competence and capability.
But, wait a minute, he thought, the figure so close he could begin to make out details on them. The striking golden hair was short, almost boyish, and seemed familiar.
A memory flashed through his mind, and he realised where he had seen that hair before; it was on the posters for the clinic. And then, in the blink of an eye, the figure hit the ground with a sickening thud.
The deafening impact echoed through the streets, followed by a revolting, squelching sound as if a giant tomato had splattered onto the ground. The once-dirty brown cobblestones were now soaked in a pool of sticky, crimson blood, turning the street into a gruesome scene. Breannus' stomach lurched as he doubled over, trying to hold back the urge to retch.
As the dust settled, a hushed murmur filled the air. Breannus tried to keep his eyes closed, not wanting to face the aftermath of the fall. But the gasps and whispers of the onlookers around him piqued his curiosity, and he slowly opened his eyes.
With the dust dying down, his suspicions were proven; it was, indeed, the Lord and, spectacularly, she was completely intact. Not even a splash of blood on her person, in contrast to her immediate surroundings.
Which seemed to surprise her somewhat. Breannus was expecting a stoic, powerful figure from everything he had heard about the Lord but she seemed quite surprised at the state of her landing just as much as he was.
As soon as it was clear she was alright, those hushed murmurs erupted into frantic shouts and exclamations, each person clamouring to get a word in or to talk about it with the person by their side.
Breannus and Elona were by no means different, with Elona mumbling vague words of shock and awe as Breannus just stared, his mind actively warping his understanding of just who the Lord in control of this city truly was.
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The affluent street stretched out before them, its wide expanse largely deserted on this crisp morning. A few residents, their noses held high in the air, strode past the gathering of builders and architects, paying them no heed. Daven, however, was in charge of them all, and he watched as they huddled around the imposing Lord's Manor, their eyes aglow with wonder at the intricate details etched into its walls.
Many among them had never set foot in this part of the city before, and they drank in the sights around them with open-mouthed amazement. They marvelled at the moving platform that had transported them here, the electric lights that lit up the houses, and the trams that whizzed past in a blur of sound and motion.
A few grumbled about the extravagance of the nobility, a sentiment that Daven shared wholeheartedly. The opulence on display here stood in stark contrast to the meagre living conditions of the lower classes, and the disparity was not lost on him, nor on Riza, he hoped.
All these buildings were far more than mere homes for the wealthy; their origins stretched back to the Ancients, and their methods of construction were as mysterious as their creators.
Until now. Riza had arranged this gathering as a kind of builder's quorum, an opportunity to analyse the materials and methods that made up these legendary buildings. They were not here to replicate them, but rather to understand them, and to glean what knowledge they could from their ancient secrets.
This was all in the purpose of broadening the scope of his [Earth Shape]. Slowly, through consistent training, he had grasped metal shaping within his fist, but that was only because he was intricately aware of the process of transforming raw ore taken from the ground into finished metals, largely due to Meren’s tutelage.
Perhaps these red and brown bricks were reproducible but the complicated, metal frameworks holding the buildings together were far beyond what the city’s blacksmiths could produce. They were far too large and seamless to have been made with contemporary methods.
So, it was left up to Daven. Not that he was complaining–he liked the challenge.
Apparently, the reason why Riza wanted him to be able to specifically replicate the style of noble buildings, regardless of the much higher resource requirement he had just learned, was all for her latest plan she was busy putting together.
Whatever it was, she was clearly excited about it. Many hours had been spent, her holding up with Lefie and Andreya and a collection of demons whilst he was spent off to do whatever she wanted.
With an apathetic shrug, Daven pulled out his notebook and brushed up on his literacy, taking down abundant notes to study later. This was good too.
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The winding staircase carved into the mountain's side was a marvel of stone craftsmanship. Without any skills to be used, each smooth and cracked step would’ve needed to be manually carved and placed by hand, a tremendous feat.
The climb was steep and would be arduous for anyone other than Riza, but the scenery would be ordinarily otherwise unparalleled. Vistas of green and the backdrop of a shrinking city behind her. Even the smell of pine and wildflowers filled her nose.
At the top, the steps diverged into two forks, one leading to the original graveyard and the next, to the recently excavated levelling cave of Riza’s. Since Daven returned, it had been touched up a little, incorporating more diverse material, complexly shaped furniture, and overall polish.
And, waiting in the foyer of that room, was the very first criminal judged under the new Lord’s Laws. Andreya had been delightfully swift in appointing a judge and prosecutions were already underway. So far, she had been involved with all of them, utilising her [Detect Truth] to its fullest but there were eventual plans to delegate that as well.
It did raise questions for Riza for what skills she wanted those involved in law enforcement or the justice system to even have. She was a bit hesitant in this, however, knowing just how badly corrupt a system could become, and that was even before introducing magic and skills into the equation.
But, on the topic of corruption, it got her thinking about [Detect Truth] again. She was used to living in a society where your capital directly influenced just how credible statements you made were and, in a way, [Detect Truth] would do the same.
Not even taking into account that Andreya told her the skill isn’t always a hundred percent accurate, just the mere knowledge someone has that skill–not even the fact they’re actively using it, just that they have the capability to do so–would influence how people viewed anything they said.
In a court of law, you’d want a failsafe way to tell what statements a person makes based off information [Detect Truth] told or not.
The simplest solution would be to give the judges [Detect Truth]. If someone lies, they’d know. Of course, if they’re the only person capable of that, then it’d make it that much easier to be corrupt, so a second person who could use [Detect Truth] and whose purpose is to ensure the judge is also telling the truth would be important.
But enough about that. Riza shook her head. She had other things to think about.
Practically racing up the last few steps, she slid to a stop outside the new-and-improved levelling cave. She had Daven make the exterior more aesthetically similar to the Lord’s Manor but it was only superficial changes. A sparrow perched on a part of the rocky outcropping.
As Riza stepped into the room, she felt a familiar sense of trepidation clawing at her chest. It wasn't just the knowledge that her convict, Eorin, was waiting for her inside, but the way his very presence seemed to suffuse the air with a palpable tension.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Eorin had been charged with murder and sentenced to ten years of servitude under Riza's employ. The length of the sentence was a point of astonishment for Riza, not because it seemed short for such a heinous crime, but because she herself had only been in this world for less than a year.
The weight of responsibility she was feeling had only increased.
But there was no time to dwell on that now. She needed to focus on the task at hand. Eorin was waiting.
As she approached him, Riza took a moment to size him up. Despite his relatively short stature, Eorin possessed a powerful build that seemed to ripple with coiled strength beneath his clothing. His dark hair was cropped short, and a thick beard framed his angular jawline. But it was the jagged scar that snaked across his right cheek that drew the eye, a harsh disfigurement that lent his rugged features a menacing edge.
Eorin stood as soon as he saw Riza, his body tense and alert for a moment before he recognized her and relaxed. He didn't say anything, just frowned and gave a curt nod of acknowledgement.
Altogether, he was an intimidating figure, although Riza was nervous for entirely different reasons.
As Riza approached Eorin, she felt a wave of anxiety wash over her. She knew she needed to remain calm and focused, so she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the serene embrace of [Meditate] to steady her nerves.
Gesturing toward a table at the side of the room, she motioned for Eorin to follow her. "Please, have a seat," she said, her voice measured and calm.
Eorin frowned, clearly annoyed by the long climb up to the meeting room. "What's happening then?" he demanded. "Why'd I have to walk all the way up here?"
Ignoring his impatience, Riza sank down into a cold, earthen chair, steeling herself for the difficult conversation to come. She reached for her leather satchel, which hung heavily at her side, and carefully unlatched the clasps. With a sense of purpose, she withdrew a crisp sheet of parchment and a sleek, sharp stylus.
Riza placed the parchment and stylus on the table, fixing her gaze on Eorin until he relented and took a seat opposite her.
"As a citizen of Toila, you have rights," she began, tapping her finger on the parchment. "This is a contract outlining the terms of your employment under me for the next ten years. After that, I will ensure you return to your life before your conviction."
Eorin's unfriendly eyes flicked over the parchment, his brow furrowing in suspicion. Riza pressed on.
"Your job will be Head Farmer, responsible for research and innovation into farming, as well as training other farmers. You will not maliciously hurt anyone and will only fight people when absolutely necessary. You will remain loyal and obedient to me.
“In addition, there are also restrictions placed on me: I agree to only compel you to do things directly related to the terms of this contract."
She paused, scanning the parchment one last time before locking eyes with Eorin. "If either of us breaks the agreed terms, the contract is null and void, and your sentence will be considered complete."
Eorin let out an incredulous snort. "You want me to be a farmer?"
Riza responded with a succinct nod. "Correct."
Eorin's frustration was evident in his next question. "And if I don't agree with this ridiculous situation?"
"You do not have a choice," Riza replied calmly. "This is a courtesy from me to you. If you don't sign this, the terms will still go into effect, except there will be no restrictions placed upon me."
Eorin's anger boiled over as he stood up abruptly, pushing his chair back with a violent shove. Riza tried not to flinch at his sudden movement. Eorin began to pace frantically, running his hand through his hair and scratching at his beard in frustration.
She watched him pace back and forth for a few moments, letting him work through his anger and frustration. She knew that the situation was difficult for him, but she also knew that he had little choice but to accept the terms of the contract.
Finally, after several minutes of tense silence, Eorin stopped pacing and turned to face Riza. "Fine," he said through gritted teeth. "I'll sign your damn contract."
Riza nodded, relief flooding through her. She pushed the sheet of parchment and the stylus across the table towards Eorin. "Thank you," she said simply.
Eorin hesitated for a moment before picking up the stylus and signing his name at the bottom of the contract. He pushed it back across the table towards Riza, his expression still stormy.
Not yet signing it herself, Riza stood up out of her seat and approached the stiffening Eorin.
“Now, this will only take a minute,” She said, taking a deep breath and hardening her feelings as she activated [Leech], killing him in an instant.
Before his limp body could flop to the floor, she caught him, ignoring the flurry of emotions churning around inside her head as she focused on [Raise Dead], thinking about nothing than counting as the three hundred seconds ticked by one-by-one.
And then, deep breath, he was back, eyes cloudy with confusion rather than anger, and he quickly struggled free of Riza’s embrace, already remarkably stronger than he was just minutes earlier.
“What did you do?” He asked, sounding far more scared than angry this time, and then quickly confused as he looked his body over, clearly noticing his enhanced strength.
Riza ignored him, returning to her seat at the table.
With far more grace than he had, she picked up the stylus for herself and took a deep breath, hoping this would work.
A lot of thinking had gone into this. A lot of experimenting with her demons.
As the tip of the magical stylus dyed the parchment black, she simultaneously said:
“I order you to obey this contract and only this contract, for it is your master.”
A sudden nova of green essence exploded from the tip of the stylus, washing and suffusing into the very fabric of the parchment, lasting for only a couple of seconds.
A pinprick of hollowness filled Riza for just a moment, like a needle had been pressed into her arm.
It seems to have worked.
“What the fuck is going on?” Eorin asked, sounding rather desperate. He slammed his hands down on the table, easily snapping off the two corners as he withdrew and looked down at his palms in subdued horror.
“What have you done to me?”
Riza calmly sat up out of chair and circled around to him, her footsteps echoing off the halls profoundly.
“Firstly, you have gone through a few changes. As you can see,” She said, bringing up his stats;
Name Eorin Level 5+ Health 2892/2892 Stamina 3211/3211 Essence
3900/3900
Power 145 (145) Constitution 91 (91) Endurance 161 (161) Vim 134 (134) Essence
195 (195) Spirit
435 (435)
Health Regeneration
1820/day Stamina Regeneration
2680/day Essence Regeneration
8700/day
Stat Points 25
“You have levels.”
He was speechless, gasping like a fish as his eyes rapidly read through the floating, blue box.
“How is this-”
“Consider it an employee benefit from me,” Riza interrupted, wanting to quickly get through this.
“As per the terms of your employment, you will be a farmer. That means spirit will be the sole stat that you will increase,” Riza said, simultaneously allocating the first twenty-five stat points into spirit.
“As for your skills,” She began, quickly bringing up the relevant skill trees as she had him purchase them. “[Well of Spirit], [Maximise Mastery], [Alteration Mastery], [Meditate], and [Plant Growth].”
By now, Eorin was struggling to even stand, unstable on his own two legs. Just in case, Riza pushed a chair under him, encouraging him to sit down and managing to catch him just in time as his knees buckled quickly.
“This… this is…” He babbled nonsensically, unable to form a coherent sentence.
“A lot. I know. Take your time, think things through, ask me questions,” Riza assuaged him, taking a seat opposite him once again, trying to appear as open as she could be.
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Eorin didn’t take very long to acclimate to his new situation, or he was just ignoring his feelings–Riza wasn’t sure which one was the case.
Either way, she was happy with how quickly he got to work as she excitedly watched all parts of her theorised build come together.
Although she had already created a build for a level eleven farmer, her Head Farmer was completely different.
Revolutionarily different, in fact.
So far, Nessy has the single highest essence regeneration, sitting around 6000 a second at level 25.
Eorin’s regeneration, however, once all he had all his skills, would be just shy of 20,000 essence a second. It was unbelievable, and all because he had two boons.
[Practised Essence] was pulling its weight hard. With the four masteries, [Range Compression] for plant skills, and [Practised Essence] itself, that was a total of 60 metamagic skill levels. Normally, that’s an increase of 120% to each metamagic skill, but with [Way of Metamagic] and [Lone Wolf]--the two boons Eorin was going to take–that was quadrupled to a final multiplier of 5.8.
The 7 times multiplier of [Maximise Mastery+] became 40.6. [Manifold Mastery] and [Seeker Mastery] both became 29 times multipliers, and [Range Compression] increased the skill intensity by 132% for each metre reduced.
All of this combined with the fact that Nessy didn’t have Riza’s [Delegator] stats while Eorin did.
This required just 17 levels, easily achievable by killing a strong greater demon, but it was only that high because he required skills other than for essence regeneration. Level 15 was the effective minimum but even then, it was still a magnitude larger than Nessy’s regeneration and there were a couple unspent skill points as well.
Altogether, the effect this had on [Plant Growth] was astronomical. For the level 11 farmer, to grow 314m3 worth of crops, it reduced a 240 day growth period to 5 hours.
With Eorin, it’d take five seconds.
Like all things Riza had worked out on paper, she needed to see it in reality to truly believe it, and Eorin’s regeneration was climbing rapidly as she watched him kill beast demons with supreme ease. There was no need to drip-feed them like with the doctors; Eorin’s power and constitution meant they could deal no damage to him and were as easy to break as a stick in his hands.
As Riza sat there, watching, she imagined all of the possibilities now at her disposable.
Eorin represented far more than just an infinite food-source, and even that had problems. As important as staples like wheat were, subsisting on an entirely plant-based diet wasn’t healthy so meat and animal-sourced food products were still necessary.
The first idea that appeared to Riza was wood. Trees took decades to grow to maturity. Assuming a tree took 50 years to grow, that was only five minutes for Eorin.
And even then, the range could increase substantially. By default, [Plant Growth] was just a 10-metre radius but its maximum was around 8000 metres. Damn near most of the city. Doing the calculations, 50 years at 8000 metre radius was only two hours.
In terms of what this meant for Riza’s civilisation, it was infinite wood. A renewable fuel source and building material, but that wasn’t all; Eorin had plant skills. He had skills that worked with plants.
If, in a matter of hours, he could grow a forest to cover the majority of a city, he could see through all of it with [Plant Eyes], talk to all of them with [Plant Whispering], or control them with [Plant Control].
A spark of an idea exploded in Riza’s mind. Those soldiers on Toila’s border. They were on grass, another plant. At 8000 metres away, Eorin could use [Plant Eyes] to spy on them. She didn’t know the details of how the skill worked, but at her most hopeful, it would be able to see and hear.
If subtly wasn’t the desire, then simply growing a forest beneath their feet would throw them all into chaos. Two hours is nowhere near enough time to reorganise and take control of the situation.
The possibilities felt almost limitless.