It was morning now, and Owen was sick of the darkness. He couldn’t stand it any more. So, the first thing on the agenda for the day was improving the lighting within the mountain. It was going to be a big risk. And it was about to take him out of his kingdom to sort the problem.

But it was needed. Being able to see when his enemies could not was a massive advantage.

The orcs had congregated in the sands. Owen noticed there were more of them now. Women helped the men put their armour on, who in turn helped put their armour on. The orcish children practised their swings, their faces serious, but having fun. As Owen watched, guilt bit him. He had knowingly forced them to starve. Maybe there would have been more here. And yet, none of them looked at Owen as if he was a villain, but that of a victor.

One female orc in particular walked around the children, striking their thighs and arms with a long and slender stick.

Owen approached Gorath, who was watching on with a complicated expression.

“Is it a patriarchal society?” Owen asked, wondering if the women stayed back with the children. Seeing their armour, however, that didn’t seem to be the case.

“My Lord,” said Gorath, bowing. “In some ways, yes. When the orcish males are out fighting, and the surroundings are dangerous, the women defend the base. And the children. But in war, strength in the arms and technique with an axe is all that matters. In that case—” Gorath pointed to one of the taller children. She looked more serious than the others, and she watched the surroundings. Her eyes met with Owen, and he smiled in response. She snapped her head back.

Gorath continued, “the Prime Child looks after the other children. The strongest of the younger generation.”

“Quite a responsibility.”

“The responsibility of the strong,” Gorath said.

Owen nodded. “Seems like we all have it one way or another,” he said, squinting his eyes from the rising sun. “Prepare them, we will be heading out to hunt today.”

“Scarlet Crabs?”

Owen gazed out to the horizon. “I have something else in mind. We now have water, food, and shelter. Now we need things to improve our standards of living. We have a bath to improve hygiene. Now we need a proper light source to navigate the increasing passageways of the mountain.”

“It appears you have to think about everything.”

“Makes a difference. Before this I didn’t have to think about anything. Go to work, finish, sleep, go back to work.”

“Your butler said you needed me?” Justin approached, yawning.

Owen smiled. “He’s not a butler. He’s an administrator.”

“Whatever,” said Justin, waving his hand.

“Before we clear out the mountain, I wanted your help outside,” Owen said. “Need a light source. There should be a monster nearby that has just what I need.”

“A light source?” Justin asked. “That’s a lot to risk for that.”

“It’s not just any light source. It battles against the piercing dark from that wave. It’ll help productivity greatly.”

“Like this?” Justin summoned a lantern. The flickering purple flame within burned dim. There it is, Owen thought. The Eternal Light.

“What’s that?” Owen asked, feigning ignorance.

“The Eternal Light,” he said. Gorath stepped closer to inspect it.

“It’s magic,” Gorath said curiously. “May I?”

Justin handed it to him without care, and said, “Sure thing.”

“Marvellous. It’s not an element I’m aware of. Where did you claim such a thing?”

Justin shrugged. “Got it when I killed a sand mutt. Says that an old guy used to use it as a paper weight, then killed a mage with it and his powers joined with it. Who kills someone with a lantern?”

Owen’s brows twitched. A godly being, that’s who.

“You can have it if you want?” Justin offered it to Owen, but he shook his head.

“You need it. Besides, that’s similar to what we’re going out for.”

“Alright,” Justin said, brandishing a spear made out of his own mana. “Then let’s get going.”

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“That was easy,” Owen said, smiling. He knew the reason, of course. Deep down, Justin wanted friends; wanted that connection with someone. Now that they were proclaimed ‘friends’, Justin would take that seriously. Yes, he was a simpleton. “Thought I’d have to bribe you with something.”

“Isn’t that what friends do?” he asked innocently. “They help each other?”

Owen smiled. “They do.”

***

Out on the sands, around forty orcs trailed behind him—a formidable force. For what he planned to hunt, he’d need every one of them. Close by, Pyris, Justin, Lome, Mirian, and Rohan formed a protective circle around Owen. The rest of the group remained at camp, guarding the others.

Owen wore the armour of Nerzu, drawing envious glances from Justin. Paired with the Heartseeker's Edge and Dune Crest's Veil, he was fully equipped for what lay ahead.

Justin glanced from the armour to Pyris, then at the orcs, before remarking, “Looks like you’ve gotten lucky.”

“I have,” Owen admitted. But he wasn’t about to reveal the real reason for his luck—his potent Lord Emblem, which increased his chances of obtaining Fragments with each use. If Justin knew, he’d probably lose his mind.

Reaching the top of a dune, Owen surveyed the landscape. As always, nothing but endless mountains, dunes, and sand stretching to the horizon. They had trekked for four hours to reach this desolate area in the south.

The orcs watched him closely, their bodies weary, beaten by the relentless sun. They were growing impatient. Owen ignored their frustration. They’d be satisfied soon enough—or not. That was the risk he had chosen to take. He needed the light, not just for illumination but for their future.

“What are we hunting?” one of the orcish warriors asked.

“A shadow among—” Owen paused, then smiled. “Found it.” He pointed to a strange patch of shadow, darker than anything else in the flat desert. No mountains, dunes, or hills—just an unnatural darkness.

“You want battle? Glory? Strength?” he called to the orcs.

They gripped their weapons tighter and nodded.

“Then follow me and prepare yourselves.”

On the way, Owen explained the plan—how to dodge, how to move, how to kill. As they neared the shadow, Owen’s heart raced. His instincts screamed at him not to approach, warning of the grave danger ahead. But he pushed forward. For his people, for their future, he would take the risk.

“Elina, fire an arrow into the centre,” Owen commanded. “Put everything into it.”

Without hesitation, Elina obeyed, channelling her mana. She drew back her bow and fired with all her might. The arrow flew, kicking up a storm of dust as it pierced the darkened sand, illuminating the area with a burst of starlight.

They waited, tension rising. Owen tightened his grip on his sword. Then, it began.

A low, rumbling sound echoed, like a powerful engine roaring to life. The shadowed sand bubbled as if something was breathing beneath it. Moments later, a hulking form erupted from the earth.

The orcs roared their battle cries, slamming their weapons against their palms. The sound was like war drums, as fearsome as when they had first clashed. These warriors were born for battle.

Owen's eyes followed the creature as it rose, towering over them at an imposing 20 feet. It was far larger than he had anticipated. Seeing it up close made its size feel even more monstrous.

Twisted twin horns jutted toward the sky, sharp and ominous. Its body was covered in thick, black chitinous armour, shining like something dredged up from the underworld. It resembled a massive, nightmarish beetle—and they had just made it furious.

It spewed out black oil at them, but Owen and his troops were ready.

“Attack!” Owen’s voice rang out across the sands.

He slammed down the Orcen Totem, boosting Gorath’s magic. Luna, having emptied her mana container, was forced to recharge. But Gorath and the other archers unleashed their barrage. Lightning crackled from Gorath’s spell, striking the beetle’s shell, sending up smoke. But the creature was unharmed. Arrows bounced harmlessly off its armour. Their purpose wasn’t to kill, only to distract.

The weaker warriors charged forward, hacking at the beetle’s legs. They moved in a circular formation, never staying in one place too long. Using tough cactus-fibre ropes, they latched onto the creature wherever they could.

On the other side, Owen commanded the desert with Sandstorm Fury, summoning a swirling dust cloud around him. The strongest warriors fought beside him, striking the beetle relentlessly.

Now’s the moment, Owen thought.

Right on cue, the beetle reared up, preparing to slam down into the sands.

“Jump now!” Owen shouted.

Everyone leaped, barely avoiding a forest of sharp, spiralling rock spikes that erupted from the ground. But not all had trusted Owen’s warning. Some of the orcs were too slow, and the spikes pierced their bodies, drawing screams of agony.

Owen gritted his teeth, unable to worry about them now. He signalled to Justin, who began his part of the plan.

Justin knelt, pressing his hand to the sands. Black lances of rock shot up, just like the beetle’s earlier attack, targeting its legs. The ground shifted as the creature was lifted, its balance thrown off.

Owen, along with Pyris, hidden by the dust cloud, launched themselves forward with incredible speed. Using every ounce of strength, together, they snapped their legs to the beetle’s torso, while the orcs heaved on the ropes. Pyris’s legs were covered in blazing starlight, a stark contrast to the powerless Owen. She looked like an incoming comet. With a mighty crash, the beetle tipped over, landing on its back.

It thrashed, flailing in a frenzy, but the orcish warriors moved quickly, binding it with their ropes, pulling tighter to keep the creature pinned.

Owen leaped onto its underbelly, stomping, slashing, kicking—until he cracked through the chitin. But even that wasn’t enough to subdue the beast.

“Here goes nothing,” he muttered, activating Unlimited Plunder.

In an instant, the beetle’s armoured shell vanished, leaving its tender flesh exposed. But something he expected started to occur. The shell was… regenerating. Without hesitation, Owen raised his blade and brought it down in one swift motion. His sword plunged deep, disappearing until only the hilt remained.

In that single strike, the beast was slain.

You and your subordinates have defeated a Dread Beetle (Level 42)

| You and your subordinates have levelled up.

| You have gained a Summoning Ticket: Animal Husbandry (5-Stars)

No Fragments or Spectres. But that didn’t matter. It was Plundering time.