The king's admission hung in the air, both acknowledgent and warning. The elite families weren't just concerned—they were threatened.
"Yes, Your Highness." Arthur kept his tone neutral, though satisfaction flickered through him. Recognition from the king himself confird what he'd been striving for, his guild was bound to beco a true power in Caldera, with the king's support.
Alaric poured himself another asure of the amber liquid. "The eting tomorrow will be... interesting." His eyes studied Arthur with renewed curiosity.
"The Ashencrofts will attempt to block your formal recognition, this is just how Sauron is. The Gilderhavens will likely remain neutral until they determine where their advantage lies. And the Draketowers..."
He paused, swirling his drink. "General Raemund has expressed particular interest in your combat capabilities."
Arthur nodded, filing away the information. Each interaction was a piece on the board, each alliance a potential advantage when the rge ca.
"The council ets at the Hour of the Golden Sun. Don't be late—they'd love any excuse to dismiss you." Alaric set his glass down with a soft clink. "And prepare for hostility. Not everyone appreciates disruption to the established order."
"I understand, Your Highness."
The king rose, signaling the end of their eting. "It was nice eting you, Arthur. I will not be attending the eting tomorrow, however, soone will represent my view and my support will be made clear then."
'Perfect. Royal backing, even indirectly, will strengthen my position.'
"Thank you, Your Highness."
As Arthur left the royal palace, evening had settled across Caldera.
He made his way to his guild headquarters.
Ti is running short.
Once inside, Arthur activated his spatial talent, folding reality around himself. The city blurred, then vanished.
He reappeared in the familiar confines of his room inside the mayor's building in Village #420. The comfortable space had changed little since he'd claid it. Charles seed to have made it more luxurious to be more suitable for his status.
The rge was approaching, and he needed everything in the village to be ready. It would beco a haven for new awakeners—gathering subordinates, resources, and power he'd need when the demons started their attack.
Twenty-two hours remaining.
Arthur walked to the mayor's office and knocked, though he didn't need to. The wooden door was solid but beautifully carved.
"Co in," the mayor called.
Charles stood imdiately when Arthur entered, his weather-worn face brightening with respect and reverence.
"Protector Fateless! You don't need to knock, you can simply enter." Charles remained standing.
Arthur waved him back to his seat. "It's fine. Privacy is important."
"Yes, Protector." Charles settled into his chair, smoothing his robes.
Arthur remained standing, his posture casual but eyes alert. "Tell , Charles. How is the village progressing? How are the job applications for the players coming along? What about the tax system and training facilities? What do the players think?"
The mayor's expression brightened further.
"The village thrives under your protection," Charles began, shuffling through several parchnts on his desk. "Job applications have exceeded our expectations. We've filled all essential positions and created a waiting list for specialised roles."
Arthur nodded, making ntal calculations. Every player with a job here ant another potential ally after the rge—another resource to draw upon when he faced the demons.
"And the new tax system?" he prompted.
Charles bead with pride. "Working beautifully. The five percent standard rate with exemptions for new players has been well-received. Revenue has increased by thirty percent while complaints have decreased by a ton."
"The training facilities?"
"Nearly completed," Charles replied, pride evident in his voice. "The new combat arena will be finished today. The training has been excellent, and the village is producing warriors faster than ever before."
Arthur paced slowly along the edge of the mayor's office, fingers trailing across a detailed map of the village pinned to the wall. New structures had been added since his last visit—buildings marked in red ink, defensive positions in blue.
"Player satisfaction?"
Charles's smile faltered slightly. "Generally positive, though we've had so complaints from players around level 8-9 about the lack of challenging quests nearby."
"That's not sothing we can control. However, that doesn't an we can't implent a similar system." He smiled.
"Implent a ranking system," Arthur decided. "Create specialised missions for players above level 6, with appropriate rewards."
"Brilliant idea, Protector!" Charles scribbled notes frantically. "I'll have it ready by tomorrow."
Arthur nodded, satisfied with the progress. Village #420 was transforming from a backwater starting zone into sothing resembling a true power base. When the rge happened, this location would be critical—a foothold in the rged worlds.
"Has there been any unusual activity?" Arthur asked.
"No, Protector. Everything has been going smoothly."
"Good." Arthur moved toward the window, gazing out at the village square below. Players mingled with NPCs, the distinction increasingly blurred as both adapted to coexistence. "Double the guards on all entrances to the village, and create scouting teams to search around the village. Things are about to beco chaotic soon."
"Of course, Protector." Charles nodded rapidly, already making notes.
Arthur watched a group of new players fumbling with practice weapons in the distance. Soon, they'd understand what was really at stake.
Soon, the worlds would rge, and everything would change.
His power would manifest fully in both realms, and those who had tornted him and Charlotte would learn the cost of their actions.
"Good job, Charles, you are doing well. Keep it up, I will get in touch soon." Arthur turned away from the window.
The mayor rose, eager to escort him out, but Arthur gestured for him to remain seated.
"That won't be necessary."
Charles reluctantly sank back into his chair, watching as Arthur left without another word.
Prison ti.
A cold smile touched his lips as he changed direction, heading not toward the village gates but down—toward the underground cells where Adam was being held.
Let's see if he is here.
Arthur descended the narrow stone steps, the temperature dropping with each footfall. Torches flickered along the walls.
The guard on duty jumped to attention when Arthur appeared.
"Protector! We weren't expecting you today."
"At ease," Arthur replied, his voice echoing in the damp space. "I'm here to see the prisoner."
The guard hesitated. "Which one, sir? We have three at present."
"Lieutenant Adam."
Recognition flashed in eyes, followed imdiately by unease. "Of course. This way, please."
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