Lord of Reclamation: I Can Unlock Abilities By Building Civilizations Chapter 2: A Thousand Strikes

In the northern borderlands of the Loanium Empire, tucked inside a run-down blacksmith shop that looked more like a shack than a proper business.

Clang, clang, clang...

The hamr crashed down on red-hot steel, sending sparks flying across Thane’s oil-slicked muscles.

Sweat beaded up and rolled down his rugged, handso face, his thick curls plastered to his skin from the heat.

Thane didn’t care. His deep blue eyes stayed locked on the sword blank, making sure every hamr blow hit exactly where it needed to smooth out the rough spots.

In this dieval world with its crude slting thods, iron ore was loaded with way more junk than anything from Earth in his previous life.

To forge a blade sharp enough to slice through iron like butter, Thane had already put in a solid month of work. This was the final fold and forge.

[You have hamred iron ore 1,000 tis. Unlocked trait: Forging Might]

The see-through text popped up, but Thane wasn’t surprised. He set down his hamr, straightened up, and focused on the notification.

The next second, a glowing screen appeared:

[Forging Might (White): Increases base strength by 20%]

[Equip?]

"Equip."

At Thane’s ntal command, warmth suddenly rushed through his body, flooding his arms and legs!

"Damn..."

Thane paused his work, squinting as he stood there, soaking in the comfortable energy flowing through him. All the fatigue from a morning of smithing just lted away.

After the warm feeling faded, Thane picked up the iron hamr again—it felt light as a feather now.

"Man, traits are seriously incredible."

White ant basic trait quality—the bottom tier.

If basic traits were already this badass, what would future red mythic traits be like?

Lost in thought, Thane saw another prompt pop up:

[Next trait: Complete first sword forging to unlock: Precision Forged Edge]

Seven years ago, Thane had just wrapped up his graduation party when so idiot in a cent truck ran a red light and took him out.

When he woke up, he’d been reborn as Thane, the bastard son of Earl Ividaya.

Along with his new body ca the farming sim ga Chronicles dieval from his old life.

This ga let Thane gain traits by developing territory activities like farming, raising livestock, forging, mining, hunting, and warfare—basically turning him into a one-man empire-building machine.

But here’s the kicker—as a bastard son, where the hell was Thane supposed to get territory?

So the portable ga system stayed locked.

Thane saw zero hope and could only work as basically a servant in the castle.

Until three months ago.

Earl Aldric, the Emperor’s brother, got himself killed while traveling through the northern borderlands.

They found his body chopped up and hanging from roadside trees outside the border town like so twisted Christmas decoration.

The northern borderlands were technically Loanium Empire territory, but in reality, they were lawless wasteland crawling with bandits and hostile tribes.

The Emperor went ballistic, blaming his brother’s death on the bandits and foreign tribes, swearing to make them pay in blood.

But the northern wilderness was massive—endless hills and valleys covered in thick forest that would chew up and spit out any imperial army dumb enough to march through.

Even wiping out a few nobody bandit groups wouldn’t change jack about the wilderness situation or cool down the Emperor’s rage.

But the royal family’s reputation had to be defended.

So the Emperor issued a blood decree to the nobles, carving up the northern borderlands into territories.

He then ordered the nobles to send family mbers north as lords to wipe out the bandits and tribes.

The Emperor gave these territories a hundred-year tax break, but required them to deliver one hundred bandit or tribal heads every year.

The nobles wanted those primitive, barren northern lands about as much as they wanted the plague—the Ividaya family included.

Hardly any people, brutal winters that lasted forever.

Plus roving bandits and hostile tribes—no noble heir wanted to deal with that nightmare.

But Earl Ividaya couldn’t just ignore the Emperor’s decree.

Just as the Earl was pulling his hair out, seventeen-year-old Thane, fresh into adulthood, stepped up.

The northern borderlands might be hell on earth for other family mbers, but for Thane, they were the promised land.

The north was dangerous as hell but loaded with resources, and once Thane had territory, he could unlock the ga system. He could work with that.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Thane hadn’t been reborn just to spend his life kissing noble ass.

With a cheat system in his back pocket, win or lose, he had to roll the dice.

Earl Ividaya was thrilled, specially rewarding Thane with one hundred fifty gold coins and arranging ten guards to escort him.

These ten guards were all battle-tested veterans who would serve under Thane from now on.

To show the family actually gave a damn about the northern territory, Lady Ividaya adopted Thane as her fourth son, getting rid of his bastard status once and for all.

So, witnessed by the imperial herald, Thane was granted the title of Baron, with Shadowpine Ridge in the northern borderlands as his domain.

The mont that deed hit Thane’s hands, the Chronicles dieval ga system fired up. All kinds of traits and unlock conditions appeared before his eyes.

Clear the first acre of farmland, harvest the first bag of autumn wheat, build livestock pens—everything had a trait attached.

Most traits needed to be completed on his territory, with only a few exceptions.

Like [Forging Might] from hamring iron ore a thousand tis.

With heavy snow blocking the northern roads, Thane figured he’d hang out in the border town and unlock Forging Might while he waited.

Being brave didn’t an being stupid—more preparation was always better.

After finishing the sword blank ca quenching, tempering, and finally grinding and sharpening.

Two weeks later, as fine sparks scattered while the blade passed over the whetstone again and again.

Suddenly, cold light flashed across the blade’s edge. A prompt appeared:

[Successfully forged first Fine Steel Claymore. Unlocked: Precision Forged Edge]

[Precision Forged Edge (Green): Weapons personally forged and sharpened have armor penetration effects]

"An enchantnt trait?"

Thane imdiately examined the greatsword in his hands. Text floated before his eyes:

[Na: Fine Steel Claymore]

[Grade: Green Excellent]

[Enchantnt: Precision Forged Edge]

It really was an enchantnt trait!

Even though this was a fantasy world, adding special effects to weapons and armor usually required rare materials.

But this steel sword was forged from regular iron ore!

Blown away, Thane imdiately had the nearby blacksmith bring over so plate armor for testing.

Plate armor was heavy-duty protection forged from steel plates—thick, tough, and the best defensive gear money could buy. Regular swords couldn’t even scratch it.

Thane lifted the steel sword and struck without hesitation.

Hisssss—

Sharp tal-cutting sounds rang out as the broken plate armor crashed to the ground with a clang!

The blacksmith yelled "My plate armor!" and grabbed his head like he’d just watched his life savings go up in smoke!

Thane stared at the clean cut, equally stunned.

Precision Forged Edge was that insane!

The plate armor was sliced clean in half—how could chainmail or leather armor possibly stand up to this thing?

Traits were seriously overpowered!

Now he could make bank just running a blacksmith shop!

Thane imdiately checked the next forging trait. Perfect timing—it required building a blacksmith shop on his territory.

"Did you forge this sword?"

Just as Thane was daydreaming about his future empire, a middle-aged knight walked over.

The knight was nad Pamin Montincourt, wearing chainmail with a single-handed longsword at his hip.

Pamin was forty-five, his face weathered but still carrying himself with steady confidence and sharp eyes that hadn’t dulled with age.

He’d once been Earl Ividaya’s head knight.

Seventeen years ago, he lost his left hand in battle, costing him the head knight position and bumping him down to guard instructor.

Without that setback, Earl Ividaya never would have handed over such an experienced and sharp knight to Thane.

As a knight, Pamin was imdiately drawn to the Fine Steel Claymore.

Noticing his interest, Thane offered the sword:

"Want to give it a try?"

"Yes, thank you."

Pamin took the longsword, instinctively wanting to test it on the armor rack but got blocked by the blacksmith. He settled for testing it on so nearby scrap tal.

The steel sword ca down, instantly splitting the inch-thick scrap in two.

Looking at the blade again, it was still pristine without any chips or nicks.

"I’ve never seen such a sharp sword. Maybe only legendary dwarf-forged weapons could compare?"

Pamin stared at the scrap’s clean cut, completely floored.

How did this Baron have such incredible sword-forging skills? Who the hell had taught him?

Could his dead mother have had dwarf blood?

A million thoughts raced through Pamin’s mind, but he couldn’t question his lord directly. He had to swallow his curiosity and hand the sword back to Thane.

Whatever—in the mineral-rich northern borderlands, having a lord with killer forging skills was definitely a good thing.

Thane caught the steel sword one-handed and said casually: "Once we get to Shadowpine Ridge, I’ll forge you a sword just like this."

Thane hadn’t expected his first attempt to turn out this well, so he’d chosen materials for a two-handed greatsword for himself.

This steel sword weighed twelve pounds—way too heavy for Pamin’s one-handed fighting style.

Even though Pamin was a knight who practiced breathing techniques, this steel sword would still ss with his speed.

But for Thane, boosted by [Forging Might], the twelve-pound heavy sword felt just right.

"Thank you for your generosity."

Pamin bowed gratefully.

No knight could turn down a Fine Steel Claymore that rivaled dwarf craftsmanship. Pamin was definitely looking forward to getting his hands on one.

But for now, it was just Thane’s promise—who knew what the future held.

Forty-five-year-old Pamin focused more on the here and now.

"The wilderness snow has lted, and the hired escort is ready. We can head out whenever."

Pamin spoke with obvious concern: "But selling off all our supplies and keeping only half a month’s dried rations and jerky—isn’t that cutting it pretty close?

Even though it’s only seven days from here to Shadowpine Ridge, with early spring coming, your territory might not have any extra food."

Thane had seen Pamin’s concerns coming. His lips curved into a slight smile as he asked:

"Didn’t I have you ask around about rchant caravans heading to Shadowpine Ridge recently?"

"I did ask around. Three caravans will pass through Shadowpine Ridge soon—the closest one is the Beuigclair caravan leaving tomorrow."

"I rember the Beuigclair caravan."

Thane nodded:

"Then we’ll also leave tomorrow, following behind the Beuigclair caravan."

Thane’s traits were all territory-based—hanging around the border town was pointless.

After selling his supplies, he had only horses left—one per person with grain bags attached. The group could pack up and move out anyti.

For this kind of flexibility, Thane decided to travel light, not even buying female slaves or cooks.

"Are you planning to buy food and supplies from the caravan? The prices might be two or three tis higher than here in the border town."

Pamin was being conservative with his estimate.

Caravans spent serious gold hiring escort teams and risked bandit attacks hauling grain into the wilderness—prices often jumped five to ten tis normal.

"Buy?"

Thane chuckled coldly, walking over to Pamin and lowering his voice:

"Don’t those rchants need to pay taxes doing business in Shadowpine Ridge?"

"You an..."

"As lord, I can collect advance tax paynts from those rchants."

Thane had been planning this for a while—collecting taxes beat buying any day.

Pamin got it imdiately.

As lord of Shadowpine Ridge, everything there belonged to Thane—hell, even a bird sitting in a tree was his property.

Except for slaves, anyone and anything in Shadowpine Ridge had to pay taxes to Thane.

If Thane wanted, he could even tax breathing.

"But then, will rchants still want to co to Shadowpine Ridge?" Pamin asked worriedly.

"Then I’ll collect ten years of taxes up front."

Thane smiled, fully embracing his role as lord:

"If they hand over supplies and skip doing business, I don’t give a damn."

rchants chased profit—Thane didn’t believe rchants who prepaid taxes would just walk away from business opportunities in Shadowpine Ridge.

Even if they did, Thane didn’t care.

Worst case scenario, he’d start his own rchant caravan.

His mories as a bastard son and seven years of experience had taught Thane that this world would eat you alive if you weren’t ruthless enough.

Especially in the northern wilderness without any connections, he had to use whatever thods worked.

Those random caravans would serve as his temporary supply sources.

Thane felt zero guilt about it.

Living in an era full of bloody exploitation while clinging to his previous life’s moral code?

Then everyone in this era belonged on the gallows, including His Majesty the Emperor.

"I understand, Baron. I’ll check out the Beuigclair caravan’s security situation right away."

Pamin wasn’t stupid—he now understood why Thane had hired an extra escort team.

His lord’s "tax collection" was basically highway robbery. Pamin could already picture what would happen when they refused to pay.

But Pamin thought this was perfectly normal. Without a solid foundation of wealth, hitting his own territory with heavy taxes was the fastest way to build power. How much to collect was the lord’s call.

So Pamin needed to get ready in advance.

After bowing and leaving the smithy, Thane got dressed and gathered his stuff to head out too.

Then the blacksmith stopped Thane, working up the courage to say: "Noble sir, you damaged my plate armor and need to pay back."

"Pay you back?"

Thane asked, surprised: "You brought out a perfect piece of plate armor for testing?"

"Of course, this was a finished product worth three gold coins..."

Before the blacksmith could finish, Thane raised his hand to cut him off.

"I asked you to bring plate armor for testing—who told you to bring a perfect piece for testing?"

Thane’s gaze turned ice-cold, his tone unfriendly as he pressed: "Are you trying to scam a noble with defective goods?"

Thane wasn’t exaggerating. Plate armor was thick and heavy—regular people couldn’t even wear it, and it cost a fortune too.

The blacksmith was stunned.

Thane really hadn’t told him to bring perfect plate armor for testing.

The main problem was—who could have possibly imagined that Thane, this green newcor, could forge such a heavy sword capable of slicing plate armor clean in half?

"I... but..."

The blacksmith looked like he wanted to cry.

Scamming nobles was a serious cri—at minimum, you’d get flogged.

But this plate armor had cost him big ti. Without it, he couldn’t pay next year’s shop rent and taxes.

"I won’t give you money, but I can offer you sothing better."

Seeing the blacksmith’s expression, Thane didn’t want to make his life hell. His tone softened as he said: "My Shadowpine Ridge needs blacksmiths. If you’re willing to co, I can waive five years of taxes, consider teaching you forging techniques, and even get you a wife."

Thane couldn’t teach his trait abilities, but the forging knowledge he’d gained from the system could definitely be passed on to others.

Thane didn’t know Shadowpine Ridge’s exact situation, but he wouldn’t mind having more blacksmiths on his team.

"I..."

The blacksmith hesitated.

He knew how rough conditions were in the northern wilderness, but five years of tax exemption and forging knowledge were equally tempting.

"You’ve got one night to think it over. If you want to co with , find at the tavern."

Thane ignored the blacksmith and headed back to the tavern.