Thankfully for Daz, sleep wasn't a requirement for him since he was a Reaper. Asking the system what the time was, Daz became a bit startled. "Time sure does fly when you're in the company of friends, huh? It's already eight in the morning. Only four hours until the attack starts."

Rimmy tilted his head in response before he stuffed a few gems inside the holes on his face. Daz had rambled on and on about this or that to Rimmy while the stoic Golem moved his head and hands along in response.

Daz could hear the steel portcullis opening, and turning his gaze, he saw Crusher walking out proudly with a grin on her muscular face. "Here you are. So the big guy's back, huh? Good to see you again, Rimmy."

Bouncing his head in response, Rimmy resumed his meal of precious gems.

"Rest well?" Daz asked after he had stood up and stretched his body.

"Well enough. Got a plan for today's attack? I'd rather not get so beat up again if possible, hahaha!" Crusher laughed. While she had profited tremendously from yesterday's attack and despite the fact that she was used to intensive training due to her athletic career, something about nearly dying didn't excite her quite as much as she hoped it might.

"Not much we can plan for, to be honest, since the monsters are seemingly random," Daz shrugged. If he could, he would meticulously plan out every detail of the attack ahead of time, but without any knowledge of the monsters, it was pointless to get too complex with his strategies before having a chance to evaluate his enemies.

"I do plan to use our Defenses more. I was afraid of them getting destroyed the other days, so I kept the fighting outside of the walls, but I now see that's too dangerous. We'll attack physically like yesterday, but if the situation calls for it, retreating to the ramparts isn't an impossibility," Daz explained.

Crusher wasn't a master tactician or someone with knowledge in defensive battles, so she could only nod her head and agree with Daz's reasonable sounding words.

"Ah." A look of realisation flashed across Crusher's face. "What about the guns we got from the soldiers? We gonna use 'em? It'd be a waste to ignore them after all the effort you went through to get 'um."

"Too risky to use them large scale right now. We might get another situation where someone panics and ends up dealing more harm than good. I'll only give guns to the people I trust and they'll be up on the walls supporting us in one way or another." Daz wasn't willing to budge on this matter. It might seem too over-bearing, but he wanted those guns to be used strictly by soldiers under his banner, not by his regular Citizens.

Were he to give a weapon to every single person in Fort Skip, It would be a disaster waiting to happen as far as Daz was concerned. While most voices of protest had disappeared, Daz was more than aware that mindsets and opinions didn't change in a day or two, so before he had a system that ensured order was in place, he wasn't going to supply the assault rifles and pistols to anyone he felt he couldn't trust or control.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Dorian... huh?" Crusher mumbled in response to what Daz said. She looked guilty and a concerned look flashed across her face. "Do you think he's okay?"

"I'm sure he's fine. We'll have a chance to see him later today, assuming we survive the attack. Don't worry. You'll get an opportunity to apologise to him in person," Daz smiled.

"Hahaha! That'd be nice!" Crusher was a more complex person than she appeared. Daz felt worried. While his approach thus far to the apocalypse had been successful, he could feel that he was slipping back into his chaotic ways.

This wouldn't be a problem if he was still alone, but he had people to look after now. If he couldn't keep their image of him in high regard, then he may very well end up losing his Citizens whom he needed to improve Fort Skip and build his kingdom.

If he wasn't careful, Daz felt like Crusher might stop supporting him. True neutrality was what Daz thought would lead to the most success, and thankfully, Rimmy had returned to steer him back onto that desired path.

Daz could sense his stress building from the anticipation of everything that he would need to do today, so he entered Fort Skip, leaving Crusher outside the second rampart and looked for Sandy. It didn't take long to find the aspiring blacksmith.

"What brings ya here, kiddo?" Sandy asked and went on to take a big puff from the dutchman's pipe in his hand.

Daz sat next to Sandy and smiled. The ex-Construction Supervisor was relaxed on a folding chair with a pile of wooden poles in front of him. It would seem like he'd spent his morning sharpening these shafts.

"I wanted to do some crafting. Have a bit of fun before the shit hits the fan in a few hours or something," Daz replied. His eyes remained fixed on the pipe that had embers burning away in its bowl.

One of Sandy's eyebrows rose before he laughed. "Want a smoke? I bought two pipes y'know. This one was meant for Bobby, but y'can use it if ya want." With that said, another identical pipe appeared in Sandy's free hand, clearly having been removed from his inventory.

"Sure, why not?" Daz was curious. He assumed that his body could negate all negative effects of the tobacco, and in all honesty, it seemed pretty cool. Daz could be childish at times as well.

Sandy nodded his head with a grin and took a minute to fill the pipe before lighting the tobacco. He then handed it to Daz with an expectant look in his eyes.

Daz put it to his mouth and took a draw. Instantly he entered a coughing fit and Sandy began roaring with laughter. "I knew that'd happen! Hahahahaha!"

Daz choked a bit longer before he raised his head. He had tears in the corners of his eyes and a bitter expression on his face. "How strong is that shit?"

"According to the system," Sandy said as he raised his legs and rested them on another chair, "it's tobacco from another world. Pretty crazy stuff, huh? It's got a purity of fifty percent. Nothing that a kid like you can handle."

Daz hated Sandy's shit-eating smirk, but something about it made Daz want to challenge and refute his words. He steeled himself and took another draw from the pipe. Lasting exactly zero point four seconds longer this time, Daz relapsing into a fit of coughing.

"Hahahaha, stop being a dipshit. Give it 'ere. I'll put something weaker in it for you," Sandy claimed. He then took the pipe from the Reaper and refilled the bowl with tobacco that only had fifteen percent purity instead. Daz didn't choke this time, thankfully.

The two sat and talked for a while as they smoked. Daz had noticed that he'd been talking to a lot of people lately, and he found it strange, but he was enjoying himself around these strangers which he had only met a few days ago. At some point, The two men stopped smoking and Daz went on to help Sandy sharpen the wooden poles until finally, only thirty minutes remained until the attack began.