《The Villainess's Reputation [Kingdom Building]》 1. Royal Decree "Ravenna Solarius, I hereby declare you the sole ruler of Jola Island and the Duchess of the Jola Dukedom!" Emperor Andrew Solarius¡¯s voice echoed powerfully through the vast, marble-lined Imperial Halls. His youngest daughter and fifth child, Ravenna Solarius, knelt on one knee, bowing her head as the decree was delivered. Sunlight spilled in through the open ceiling, casting her in a golden glow as she received the solemn proclamation, her figure framed by the elegance of the grand hall. "By the decree of the Imperial Court, you and your 300 knights are to depart by tomorrow evening to assume control of Jola Island, replacing its current caretaker, Duke Edward Jola and his family!" the Emperor¡¯s voice resounded with authority, its clarity carrying across the entire assembly. Yet, behind his words, the murmurs of nobles filled the hall, woven with disbelief, derision, and smug satisfaction. "So, he¡¯s finally sending her out of the capital," one woman whispered to her husband, a barely concealed smile on her lips. "Good riddance! With this She won¡¯t compete for the throne," muttered a minister nearby. "Poor Jola Island," another voice chimed in softly, dripping with sarcasm, "those subjects don¡¯t know what chaos awaits them." The Emperor continued, ignoring the murmurs. "You will be granted 400 Mana Coins to stabilize your new Dukedom and will be exempt from all taxation for the next 15 years!" At this, the whispers grew louder, curiosity and criticism mixing in equal measure. "Only 400 Mana Coins? That¡¯s barely enough to sustain her own household, let alone an entire region," one minister scoffed. "Serves her right. After all the money she¡¯s wasted on her indulgences, I¡¯m surprised she¡¯s getting anything at all," someone muttered nearby. "Actually, he¡¯s being practical with that tax exemption," another voice countered. "The people of Jola can hardly afford their daily bread, much less pay taxes to the crown." The decree concluded with the Emperor¡¯s solemn words, "The Sun God Solious bears witness to this decree, as do the noble houses gathered here." The hall fell silent, and Ravenna finally raised her head, meeting the Emperor''s gaze with her piercing, dark eyes, as sharp and unyielding as a raven. Her beauty was striking¡ªher jet-black hair seemed to drink in the sunlight, glinting like polished obsidian, and her dangerous, alluring smile sent a shiver down the spines of those who had spoken against her just moments before. With an expression that was oddly disinterested, she absorbed the implications of her father¡¯s decree, as though it were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "Well, I¡¯ll see you later then, Father." Her words were smooth, almost dismissive, and as she rose to her feet and turned to leave, her dark red gown¡ªembroidered with glistening threads of gold¡ªswirled around her like the feathers of a raven. It was as though she were striding out of a victorious hunt rather than receiving what many saw as a humiliating exile. Her steps echoed down the hall with a resolute authority that left the court whisperers swallowing their laughter. Once outside the court, Ravenna strode toward the West Wing of the palace, where the Imperial Family¡¯s chambers were situated. Her gaze was fixed ahead, unbothered by the stares she received. On her way, a figure stepped into her path¡ªa tall, broad-shouldered man with the same midnight-black hair and strikingly aristocratic features as her own. Her elder brother, Prince William, regarded her with a mocking grin. "Ah, did I miss the decree? Such a pity," he remarked, feigning innocence. "Well, best of luck scraping for fish or whatever it is they do on Jola Island. Send a word if you¡¯re in need of funds. I might even spare a few Mana Coins, out of brotherly love, of course." Ravenna¡¯s lips curved into a smile just as sweet, yet somehow far more unsettling, like a raven smiling at dead bodies. "Thank you, dear brother. I don¡¯t know how I¡¯ll manage with just 30 Mana Coins at my disposal." His smile faltered, replaced by confusion. "What 30 Mana Coins?" he asked, frowning as he tried to read her expression. Her smile widened, dangerously charming, as though she were toying with him. "Why, didn¡¯t you just offer to lend me a hand? Surely, sparing a pity 30 Mana Coins won¡¯t strain your finances." Before he could respond, William¡¯s gaze shifted nervously over her shoulder. A priest of Solious was observing them with an intent look, his eyes flickering from the statue of Solious to the imperial siblings. Realizing he was under watchful eyes, William forced a tight smile. "Ah¡­ Yes. Of course, I did," he replied, his words laced with barely concealed annoyance as he hurried past her.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Arriving at her quarters in the West Wing, she stopped before the knight stationed at her door, his posture visibly tense under her gaze. With a calm but unwavering tone, she addressed him, her piercing eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "You received the decree, did you not? What are you doing here still?" Her words came out as smooth as velvet yet laced with an edge. "Gather the knights and the servants. Prepare them to leave within two hours." The knight, visibly rattled by her presence and calm authority, swallowed hard before giving a quick bow. ¡°As you command, Your highness.¡± He turned on his heel and hurried off, leaving her with the echo of his retreating footsteps. Once inside her room, Ravenna closed the door firmly, sealing herself in near darkness. Only the faint glow of moonlight spilled through the tall, narrow window, casting shadows across her ornate furniture. For the first time since the decree was read, she allowed herself to sink against the wall, her posture softening as the tension melted from her frame. Her fierce, unyielding expression faded, replaced by one of quiet despair and weariness¡ªa glimpse into the woman she truly was beneath her carefully crafted fa?ade. "Why me?" she whispered, voice thick with frustration. ¡°Anyone else would have been fine¡­¡± Her voice faltered, and she glanced around the unfamiliar room, the silence heavy. There was no mistaking it¡ªshe was utterly alone in this foreign, gilded prison. In truth, she wasn¡¯t Ravenna Solarius. She was a woman from another world entirely, an ordinary office worker who had died in a tragic accident. Three days ago, she had woken up in this body, Ravenna¡¯s body, with all the memories and senses of the princess but none of the attachment to this life. The life she now lived felt like an impossible, surreal fever dream. ¡°Why Ravenna?¡± she muttered again, her words laced with bitterness. She recognized the name all too well; Ravenna Solarius was a minor character from a novel she had been reading before her own death¡ªa political fantasy called The Light¡¯s Conquest. In that story, Ravenna was a troublesome princess, a thorn in her father¡¯s side, briefly mentioned before being exiled to some remote island, never to appear again. And now here she was, inhabiting the very body of this fictional figure, living the last days Ravenna¡¯s story would ever mention. She grimaced, bracing herself as an overwhelming wave of homesickness surged through her. She missed her old life, her routines, the comfort of a world where she hadn¡¯t been trapped in someone else¡¯s story. "I must have committed some unforgivable sin,¡± she said to herself, her words fading into the empty room. ¡°What else could explain being put in this body, this life?¡± But one unexpected consolation came to mind¡ªthe memories. When she had woken up in Ravenna¡¯s body, a flood of vivid recollections had hit her all at once. In mere moments, she had experienced Ravenna¡¯s life from birth to now, as if watching a film from the princess¡¯s own perspective. She felt Ravenna¡¯s emotions, her dreams, her disappointments. And though the memories painted a clear picture of Ravenna¡¯s life, they didn¡¯t affect her own sense of self. She was still her own person, shaped by her past life and determined to survive in this strange world. Straightening, she pushed off the wall and steadied herself. "So, Jola Island, huh?¡± she murmured, her mind churning. "If I¡¯m to survive in that barren place, I¡¯ll need some extra funds." A glimmer of determination sparked in her eyes. Survival was something she understood, even if this world followed a different set of rules. With that determination she stepped out and went into the East Wing of the Palace. This part of the palace, shrouded in silence, was dimly lit by moonlight streaming through high windows, casting long shadows on the ornate walls and age-old relics. Her footsteps were soft but purposeful as she approached her destination¡ªthe Imperial Museum of Ancient History. Upon entering, she took in the vast room, lined with shelves holding ancient manuscripts, relics, and heirlooms of long-forgotten legends. In the center, under a faint shaft of moonlight, stood the grand statue of the Hero Luminous, a figure of immense historical significance and a symbol of hope for the empire. ¡°It must be here,¡± she muttered, her voice barely audible. Ravenna recalled a passage from her past life¡ªa detail from the final volume of The Light¡¯s Conquest. According to the book, a hidden vault in the East Wing had been a last-resort fund, used by the protagonists to stabilize the empire during its collapse. If she could find it, she would take only enough to survive comfortably for the next few years, allowing her time to gather her bearings in Jola. But where could it be? Ravenna moved carefully through the room, examining the items on display: crumbling parchments, ancient weaponry, even the faded robes of past emperors. She scanned each piece, her gaze settling on a worn rug near the statue of Luminous. "What did it say in the novel?¡± she murmured, half to herself. She crouched down, her hands skimming over the rug, feeling for any imperfections in the floor beneath. She checked behind the shelves holding old documents, carefully lifting a few to see if anything lay hidden underneath. The memory was faint; it had been a single line buried in a dense paragraph. She sighed in frustration. "There¡¯s no way I¡¯ll find it like this¡­¡± Turning her attention back to the statue, Ravenna considered the Hero Luminous himself. He had been a legendary figure four centuries ago, a man of unmatched prowess who, according to myth, resurrected entire regions and brought forth unprecedented magical advancements. She remembered bits of his tale, both from the novel and from the extensive palace education Ravenna had received, though none of it seemed helpful at the moment. ¡°Come on, there has to be a clue somewhere,¡± she muttered, staring into the statue''s stoic face. She reached out, placing a hand against the cold stone cheek of the statue, tracing its features thoughtfully. For a moment, nothing happened. As she stepped back, her dress caught on something at the statue¡¯s base, causing her to stumble slightly. She managed to catch herself, but her unsteady step shifted the statue just a fraction. The faint sound of a mechanism clicking into place echoed through the room, followed by a brief whirring. Startled, Ravenna¡¯s gaze snapped back to the statue as something small and metallic shot out of its hand, landing directly in her hands. ¡°What in the world is this?¡± she breathed, staring down at the object now resting in her hands. 2. Reputation System The object in Ravenna¡¯s hands resembled a Rubik¡¯s cube, but unlike any she¡¯d ever seen. Crafted from metal and glass, it gleamed faintly under the moonlight, revealing delicate flower petals preserved inside the glass compartments of each cube section. It looked ancient, with patches of rust on the metal framing and faint scratches on the glass, suggesting it had been crafted centuries ago. ¡°This must¡¯ve once been a magical device,¡± Ravenna murmured thoughtfully, her fingers tracing its edges. "There¡¯s no other reason for it to contain flower petals.¡± In The Light¡¯s Conquest, magic was inherently tied to flowers, with various types required for different spells. Mages cultivated unique species¡ªsome grown only in specific regions¡ªto perform specific effects, and spells were cast by burning, cutting, or crushing the blooms to unleash their powers. Cross-breeding flowers to create specific magical properties or combining petals for multi-faceted spells is a sophisticated practice. Even the lights in the palace relied on flowers for magic, using them as catalysts to illuminate the rooms after sunset. It made sense, then, to assume that this peculiar cube was a magic artifact. At first, Ravenna was hesitant to tamper with it, fearing a hidden danger. But considering that it might be connected to the hidden vault, her curiosity won out. Carefully, she rotated one of the cube¡¯s sections as if solving a puzzle. For a few moments, nothing happened, and she almost sighed in disappointment, assuming the mechanism had broken after all these years. But then, without warning, the flower petals vanished, and the cube began to dissolve in her hands, the substance liquefying and seeping into her skin before she could react. ¡°No! Stop! Get off!¡± Ravenna gasped, frantically trying to rub the substance off her palms, but it was too late¡ªthe cube had completely absorbed into her skin. Panic clawed at her as she considered what she might have unleashed. ¡°Was it a weapon? Some sort of poison?¡± The thought drove her to the edge, and she turned, ready to dash toward the Imperial Mage Tower to seek help. Suddenly, a strange sensation pulsed in her chest. She placed her hands over her heart, feeling warmth radiate through her body. The sensation climbed to her throat, then surged up to her head. Ravenna stumbled, her vision shifting as something materialized before her¡ªa translucent screen, floating in midair. Blinking, she recognized the outline, which resembled a modern interface from her past life. As it focused, words formed on the screen in Minlin, the empire¡¯s language, though they soon morphed into English. [Subconscious being scanned¡­ Designing a familiar prototype for user¡­] ¡°What¡­ in the world?¡± Ravenna reached out, attempting to touch the screen, but her hand passed straight through it. [Error: Unable to scan subconscious¡­] [Duel Subconscious Awareness Detected¡­] [Unable to design a familiar environment or objectives for user¡­] ¡°Wait¡ªdoes that mean¡­¡± Ravenna trailed off, her eyes widening. It sounded like the device was trying to read both her own mind and whatever remnants of Ravenna¡¯s original memories lingered in this body. The screen flickered, glitching as it shifted from a book-like form to a flat panel again, as though struggling to decide on a familiar shape. [Combining designs for ease of access¡­] [Determining tasks¡­] Realizing this would take some time, Ravenna sank onto the floor, watching as the spell continued loading like a game screen from her previous life. She had no idea what tasks this strange device would assign, but with any luck, they would reveal something about the hidden vault. The screen glitched again, then resumed its text. [Cannot scan memories fully¡­ Attempting to retry¡­] [Retry¡­] [Retry¡­] After a few tense moments, it seemed to complete its scan, and a new line of text appeared. [Combining both subconscious patterns to establish tasks.] [Tasks based on Subconscious A; Rewards based on Subconscious B.] ¡°Wait¡ªare you using the real Ravenna¡¯s memories to assign tasks?¡± she muttered, trying to decipher the meaning. [Reputation System Activated] ¡°Reputation¡­ system?¡± she questioned aloud, frowning at the panel as it continued to flicker in and out. Just then, a knock at her door interrupted her thoughts. She turned to see a knight bowing respectfully. ¡°Your Highness! The carriages are ready, and everyone awaits your command.¡± At the Imperial Palace¡¯s entrance, carriages were lined up, ready for her departure. The air buzzed with quiet urgency, and Ravenna noted the absence of any formal farewells from her siblings or even the emperor. It was clear to everyone: this was not a journey of honor, but an exile disguised as a royal reward. The nobles, especially her siblings, were all too pleased to see her go, relieved of the competition for the throne.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Stepping into her luxurious carriage, she observed the opulence inside¡ªa stark contrast to her current circumstances. Thankfully, the magical suspensions in the carriage softened the ride¡¯s movement, sparing her from the uncomfortable rocking of an ordinary carriage. With a sigh, Ravenna settled into her seat as the head knight gave the order to move. ¡°I suppose I should review my notes,¡± Ravenna muttered, reaching into one of her bags for a small, leather-bound book. She had been documenting every memory she retained from the novel in this journal. Memory is fleeting, she reminded herself, and as time went on, her recollection of the story might fade, leaving her vulnerable. This book would be her guide, a lifeline to navigate the treacherous world ahead. In the novel The Light¡¯s Conquest, Ravenna was a minor villainess, a member of a faction that opposed Prince William. He, a central figure in the protagonist, Eugene¡¯s life, would later become a staunch ally to the hero. Ravenna¡¯s involvement didn¡¯t last long; her role in the political struggle would come to an end after she was outmaneuvered by a rumour that she killed her own Mother, resulting in her exile. In the story, her ruthlessness was legendary, her enemies whispering tales of her cruelty and sharp wit. She was said to operate with cold precision, inspiring fear and respect in equal measure. ¡°Acting like her has been my best move so far,¡± she murmured. Upon realizing her new identity, Ravenna had resolved to embody the character¡¯s infamous attitude. Sudden changes in behavior would easily arouse suspicion, and for now, playing the role of the ¡°villainess¡± would allow her to keep control of her situation. Ravenna shifted her focus to the mysterious panel that had appeared earlier. ¡°Let¡¯s see what this thing does,¡± she muttered, willing the display to activate again. The floating screen reappeared, glowing faintly. [Reputation System Activated] ¡°What¡¯s a reputation system?¡± she thought aloud, watching as the panel morphed in response. [The Reputation System has been created to attune the user to the Universal Origin.] ¡°Universal Origin?¡± she echoed, her eyes widening. The Universal Origin was said to be the ultimate magic, wielded only by the legendary hero Luminous. In ancient lore, Luminous had described it as a magic that could adapt to its user¡¯s needs, granting near-omnipotent power. ¡°Why was something like this just lying around in the imperial palace?¡± she muttered, her mind racing. If this ¡°reputation system¡± was really linked to such an ancient and powerful force, then she may have just stumbled upon the greatest tool at her disposal. The panel flickered, showing additional details: [The Reputation System has been tailored to assist in attuning to Universal Origin.] ¡°So, this is a stepping stone to using that power?¡± Ravenna mused aloud, feeling a surge of excitement. She hesitated before murmuring, ¡°Main menu?¡± Instantly, the screen shifted, displaying a list of her current stats. [Reputation System v0.1 User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (4300/8200) Current Reputation Points: 12,000 Reputation Rate: 34% decrease in last 24 hours Titles: Raven of Sun Palace, Unruly Princess {Reputation Points Log} {Spend Reputation Points}] ¡°This really is like a game,¡± she muttered, noting the layout of the interface. Her ¡°level¡± at 60 seemed high, but given Ravenna¡¯s notoriety as an imperial princess, it made sense. Infamy, it seemed, was just as valuable as fame. ¡°Guess any publicity is good publicity,¡± she joked, noting her points and reputation rate. Her standing had dropped since her exile, as expected. ¡°With me out of the capital, Ravenna¡¯s influence is waning fast.¡± Curious, she clicked on ¡°Titles,¡± and descriptions for each title appeared: [Raven of Sun Palace: Bestowed by the nobility of Ancorna Empire after Ravenna dismantled three major houses for offending her, without a drop of blood spilled. Effects: Increases fear and respect from nobility by 7-12%. (Cannot be unequipped)] [Unruly Princess: Given by palace workers and citizens for Ravenna¡¯s extravagant spending and her habit of dismissing workers and guards for minor offenses. Effects: Increases prices on purchases by 4-9%. (Cannot be unequipped)] ¡°What? A penalty on prices?¡± Ravenna groaned, realizing the downside of her infamy. As if her finances weren¡¯t strained enough, this title would make every transaction more costly. Frustrated but undeterred, she refocused and selected the "Spend Reputation Points" option, curious to see what it might offer. As she opened the menu, a list of options appeared before her, each promising powers and resources that seemed almost surreal: [ Spend Reputation Points ] Ravenna¡¯s eyes widened as she skimmed through the list. "Access to the Internet? A Magic Spell Library?" The possibilities thrilled her; the idea of tapping into knowledge and magic with ease was incredibly appealing. If she could unlock more abilities, she might have a real chance to rise above her situation and chart her own path. Her gaze lingered on some of the pricier abilities, wondering just how useful they could be. Then, a question arose in her mind, "Wait... how exactly do I earn Reputation Points?" Almost as if the system were listening, a new panel appeared in response to her query: [ Reputation Points System ] Ravenna¡¯s eyes lit up as she did the math. "So, with my level at 60, I¡¯d get 600 points every day?" She scrolled further, and sure enough, the log displayed a breakdown of points she had earned and her daily accumulation rate. [ Reputation Points Log ] "So, I can earn extra points from events, even if they''re minor? It¡¯s something, at least." She couldn¡¯t help but smirk at the idea that her notorious acts could actually help her gain an advantage. Even if individual events didn¡¯t earn many points, every bit counted. Ravenna leaned back, absorbing this information. This system, though unpredictable, might just be the key she needed. If she could master it and strategically earn points, she could access knowledge, magic, and even healing abilities that would turn her exile into an opportunity. While thinking this, she suddenly noticed the latest log, ¡°What? I was poisoned?!¡± 3. Planning for Future Seated in the luxury of an upscale inn, Ravenna leaned back in her chair, feeling the soft silk of her attire against her skin. She wore a sleeveless crop top crafted from a light, breathable silk, intricately embroidered with fine threads and hints of gold that shimmered under the inn¡¯s warm lighting. The top was a deep, royal purple, an elegant contrast to her midnight-black hair. Paired with it was a high-waisted, flowing maxi skirt that allowed her both freedom of movement and a subtle elegance, with side slits adding a hint of allure. In the sweltering heat of the northern Ancorna Empire, this ensemble felt both luxurious and practical¡ªsuitable for both her noble status and the climate. Ravenna¡¯s sharp gaze swept across the room. Her knights and servants were seated nearby, engaging in casual conversation. The entire inn was filled with her entourage, leaving no space for regular patrons. Despite his distaste for Ravenna, the local lord had grudgingly arranged this accommodation. Although as a member of the imperial nobility he was obligated to host her, he had subtly expressed his displeasure by hosting them at the inn instead of his grand manor. It had been three weeks since Ravenna and her entourage had departed the capital, eventually arriving in the coastal town of Ronin. Their objective now was to find a ship willing to carry them to the island city of Jola. But so far, no captain had dared agree to sail to the so-called cursed land, leaving Ravenna and her people stranded here. She turned her gaze to the large window beside her, watching the ocean¡¯s restless waves. The sun was high, and its brilliant light danced across the water, casting a mesmerizing display like glimmering pearls scattered on the waves. With a soft sigh, she dismissed the view and refocused on the system panel in front of her. [ Reputation Points Log ] Ravenna had already checked the panel several times in the last weeks, but she did so again, selecting the log entry for the 1,200 points spent on poison nullification. A more detailed description unfolded before her eyes. [ Reputation Points Log ] The truth behind the original Ravenna¡¯s fate before her starkly clear. Prince William had orchestrated more than her exile; he had intended her to die along the journey. The poison would have done its work by the time she reached Jola, ensuring she never returned. It explained why, in the original novel, Ravenna had vanished from the story, quietly erased by a deadly scheme. A shiver ran through her as she thought of how close she had come to a similar fate. If she hadn¡¯t stumbled upon the East Wing¡¯s hidden chambers or the Imperial Museum of Ancient History in her search for the secret vault, she might have perished unknowingly, just as her last life. But luck had been on her side¡ª she unlocked the Reputation System that had now saved her life.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Her gaze flickered back to the panel, lingering on another entry that documented her use of points to access the internet yesterday. Curious about the feature, she¡¯d tested it, though there had been disappointments. Rather than providing the vast, ever-updating resource she had known, the "internet" here was more like a time-locked archive, seemingly frozen on the day of her death in her original world. Still, Ravenna found a silver lining; although not as comprehensive as she''d hoped, the archive was far from useless. But the reprieve was brief, as her mind returned to more pressing matters. Someone must have planted spies among her entourage. After all, Prince William wouldn¡¯t have bothered poisoning her unless he had a way of confirming whether his plan succeeded or not. Her suspicion was growing, but the question of who or how they might be reporting back was still unanswered. As she mulled over this, her Knight Captain, Hughes, approached with news. ¡°Your Highness, a merchant has agreed to ferry us to Jola,¡± he announced, a touch of excitement in his voice. ¡°But, he¡¯s asking for double the usual fee¡ªa full mana coin to transport all 360 of us.¡± Ravenna sighed. She had no room to haggle. The merchant was their only option, the only one brave enough to sail to the so-called cursed island. ¡°Very well, let him have it,¡± she replied. ¡°We leave as soon as everything¡¯s ready.¡± After sending off letters and arranging final preparations, Ravenna boarded the ship with her retinue. Standing in her private cabin, she let her gaze drift over the waves outside the window, steeling herself for the last stretch of their journey. After an hour, She summoned Hughes to her quarters. Moments later, he knocked, entering with a respectful bow. ¡°Your Highness, you called?¡± ¡°Yes, Captain. Take a seat.¡± Ravenna¡¯s intense gaze fixed on him as he sat across from her, visibly nervous. The ship gently rocked with the waves, adding to the tension in the room. Ravenna leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with quiet determination. ¡°There¡¯s a high chance there are spies in Jola,¡± she said. Hughes blinked, a bit puzzled. ¡°Your Highness, why would they send spies? You¡¯re already being exiled to that forsaken place. Surely they don¡¯t need anyone watching you now.¡± She smiled¡ªa beautiful, moonlit smile, but one that carried a dangerous edge, like a raven circling its prey. ¡°Someone attempted to poison me before we left the capital,¡± she revealed. Hughes¡¯s face paled. ¡°Your Highness, I assure you, no assassin or spy will get within reach of you. I won¡¯t fail in my duty to protect you,¡± he promised fervently. But Ravenna waved a dismissive hand. ¡°That¡¯s not why I called you here, Hughes. I want you to spread a rumor,¡± she said, her tone calm but her eyes sharp. ¡°Tell everyone that I¡¯m gravely ill and will be confined to my quarters once we arrive. They need to believe I¡¯m on the verge of death¡ªor already dead.¡± Hughes¡¯s brow furrowed, but he kept his silence, nodding attentively. ¡°This way, whoever tried to kill me will think their plan succeeded,¡± Ravenna continued, her smile becoming more unsettling. ¡°And if there are spies, they¡¯ll reveal themselves, thinking they¡¯re safe.¡± Her head tilted slightly as her smile grew, a haunting expression that made Hughes¡¯s blood run cold. ¡°Then we simply wait for them to report back¡­ or we catch them in the act.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Highness,¡± Hughes stammered, springing to his feet and bowing repeatedly as he left the cabin in a hurry, eager to carry out her orders. When he was gone, Ravenna exhaled with a faint smirk, admiring her reflection in the window. ¡°This face is truly beautiful,¡± she mused. ¡°But one beautiful smile is all it takes to scare the life out of anyone.¡± Ravenna taking in the effects of real Ravenna''s reputation. A familiar panel blinked into view. [ Reputation Points System ] Ravenna raised an eyebrow, amused. ¡°What do you mean? I was only having a conversation¡­¡± she sighed, shaking her head. 4. Arrival in Jola Island The sun rose gently over the Jola Desert, casting its first golden light upon the endless dunes. Though its warmth could have brought hope, the scene below was far from hopeful. A small city, nestled within the desert¡¯s heart, stood in a state of decay. Its buildings, made of sand bricks and crumbling stone, seemed as fragile as the people within. The streets were filled with weary figures, their bodies frail and faces hollow, as if they might collapse at any moment. Hunger clung to the air like the sand carried by the desert wind, which swept through the city every few seconds, adding to the desolation. Beyond the city, a few battered fishing canoes dotted the shoreline, their crews desperately trying to pull some semblance of life from the sea. Among them was Richard, a fisherman who had made it his mission to help the starving city folk. Each day, he rose with the sun, casting his nets with unwavering determination. Yet, his efforts were rarely rewarded. Day after day, his nets came up nearly empty, as if the sea itself had turned its back on Jola. Three months ago, the nobles had abandoned the city, leaving the peasants to fend for themselves. They claimed to have been called back to the capital to prepare for the arrival of the infamous Ravenna Solarius, the banished princess from the Sun Palace. With their departure, the fragile lifeline that connected Jola to the mainland was severed. Trade with the coastal cities of the Ancorna Empire ceased entirely. Not that life had been much better before. Even under the nobles¡¯ oppressive rule, the people had at least been able to trade. The nobles had bullied, extorted, and taken liberties with whomever they pleased, yet they had allowed a trickle of commerce to continue. Now, there was nothing. The absence of even that tenuous stability left the people teetering on the brink of collapse. Richard looked at his net again. As usual, it was almost empty except for some seaweed and a bunch of underwater flowers . Around him, his fellow fishermen were having similar luck, their faces etched with silent despair. Still, they persisted¡ªbecause they had no choice. Starvation was a certainty if they stopped trying. Suddenly, Richard froze. On the horizon, a ship¡¯s silhouette emerged, sailing toward the docks. Its merchant flag fluttered in the breeze. He squinted against the sunlight, his heart sinking. ¡°It¡¯s a ship,¡± he murmured. ¡°But not the one we need.¡± As the vessel docked, the truth became clear. It wasn¡¯t here to bring aid. Soldiers disembarked¡ªrows upon rows of knights in gleaming armor, marching with disciplined speed. Horses and carriages followed in their wake, heading straight for the City Lord¡¯s castle. ¡°Looks like they¡¯re here,¡± Richard said grimly, his voice laced with quiet resignation. ¡°Here to make our nightmare even worse,¡± muttered another fisherman bitterly. The people of Jola watched with heavy hearts. Everyone knew the city¡¯s current state was due to the nobles¡¯ greed. Years of exploitation had drained the city of its potential, despite its ideal location as a trade hub. The nobles had looted and taxed with impunity, leaving little for the peasants to survive on. Those who couldn¡¯t pay were met with whips¡ªor worse. Women and children had suffered unspeakable fates at the hands of their so-called protectors. Now, the sight of armed knights only rekindled those memories of suffering. The castle wasn¡¯t particularly grand. Built of plain stone, it stood more as a symbol of authority than luxury. Its hundreds of rooms were stark and functional, designed to house the city lord, his workers, and occasional guests. The backyard, a bare patch of sand, lacked even a single tree or plant¡ªa reflection of the barren land it governed.Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators! The knights arrived swiftly, their formation tight and orderly. On the Streets of Jola, ¡°What do you think they¡¯re here for? Taxes? Or something worse?¡± ¡°Who knows?¡± one man replied. ¡°But if that unruly princess demands taxes, we¡¯re doomed. We¡¯ve nothing left to give.¡± ¡°I heard she killed her own mother,¡± whispered a woman, her voice trembling. ¡°What?!¡± ¡°A kin-slayer? By the gods, keep your heads down. Don¡¯t look the knights in the eye. If you draw attention, we won¡¯t survive this.¡± Fear rippled through the crowd as rumors of Ravenna¡¯s cruelty spread like wildfire. Parents hurriedly pulled their children close, while others whispered desperate plans to hide their daughters from prying eyes. At the Jola Central Square, A knight, clad in full armor, rode his horse to the city¡¯s central stage. Dismounting, he unrolled a parchment and read aloud: ¡°By decree of His Majesty, Her Highness Ravenna Solarius has been appointed as the new City Lord of Jola. She summons the following individuals to meet with her at once to discuss the future of the city and its people.¡± The knight listed the names: ¡°Richard Neil Jessica Taylor Nille Vermen Sarah Bob¡± The crowd fell silent, their expressions grim. ¡°They¡¯re taking the good folk,¡± someone muttered. ¡°The ones who¡¯ve kept this city alive. Why?¡± No one had an answer, but unease hung heavy in the air. Richard straightened his shoulders when his name was called. He glanced at the other summoned individuals¡ªJessica, the tailor; Nille, the blacksmith; and Sarah, a healer. Each of them had played a vital role in keeping the city functioning despite its hardships. ¡°If this new lord tries to harm the people,¡± Richard muttered, determination hardening his voice, ¡°I¡¯ll fight. Even if it costs me my life.¡± Jessica nodded, her eyes resolute. ¡°Same here. We¡¯ve endured enough.¡± Nille adjusted his tools, his expression calm but unyielding. ¡°I¡¯ll hear them out. But if they demand anything unreasonable, I won¡¯t back down.¡± Together, the four made their way to the castle, unsure of what awaited them¡ªbut ready to face it head-on. Once at the Castle, they followed the knight leading them through the castle''s imposing halls. The air was heavy with tension, and every step echoed ominously off the cold stone walls. The castle seemed far more fortified than any of them had expected; knights stood at every corner, their armor polished and weapons at the ready. The sheer number of soldiers unsettled the group. Why so many? Was the princess afraid of an uprising? Surely her trained knights were more than capable of handling a few starving peasants. The thought gnawed at Richard¡¯s mind, but he forced it aside. There were more pressing concerns¡ªnamely, how to protect the city if this new lord¡¯s demands proved unbearable. When they arrived at the audience chamber, the four hesitated. The grand double doors had swung open to reveal an expansive room, its high ceilings adorned with faded banners bearing the Solarius crest¡ªa blazing sun. At the far end of the chamber stood the lord¡¯s throne, a modest stone seat. However, the throne was empty. Instead, a tall, young man with sharp features and jet-black hair stood in front of it, engrossed in a piece of parchment he held. He exuded an air of authority, yet his presence felt oddly informal. His black cloak, trimmed with silver, bore the emblem of the imperial knights. The group exchanged confused glances, unsure of what to do. They had expected to see the infamous Princess Ravenna, not this stranger. Still, they moved forward, about to kneel out of habit, when the man suddenly looked up. ¡°Ah, you¡¯re here,¡± he said, his voice warm yet commanding. He set the parchment aside on the armrest of the throne. ¡°Forgive me; I didn¡¯t notice your arrival. I was reviewing Her Highness¡¯s orders.¡± The group stiffened. Her Highness¡¯s orders? Richard cleared his throat, trying to steady his nerves. ¡°And who might you be, sir?¡± The man smiled slightly, inclining his head. ¡°Ah, where are my manners?¡± he said, stepping forward. ¡°I am Hughes Gatve, Knight Commander of Her Highness¡¯s personal guard.¡± The title hung in the air like a hammer. Knight Commander. This man wasn¡¯t just a soldier¡ªhe was one of the most trusted individuals in the princess¡¯s service. 5. Jola鈥檚 City鈥檚 First Change ¡°So,¡± Hughes continued, his sharp gaze scanning the group, ¡°you¡¯re the ones who¡¯ve been keeping this city afloat while we¡­ took our sweet time getting here.¡± Richard faltered, unsure how to respond. Hughes had just insulted himself¡ªa noble¡ªand Richard didn¡¯t know whether to agree or stay silent. ¡°Ser, that¡¯s¡­¡± he began awkwardly but trailed off. Hughes raised a hand, waving off the discomfort. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it,¡± he said smoothly. ¡°There¡¯s a reason for our delay, and there¡¯s a reason why Her Highness summoned you here¡ªand why she isn¡¯t present at the moment.¡± Hearing this, the group perked up, their curiosity piqued. ¡°We traveled through several towns on the way here,¡± Hughes explained, ¡°gathering food supplies and having them enchanted to prevent spoilage. We also purchased carriages to transport the sheer amount of food we brought. It was¡­ a lot of work.¡± Hope flickered briefly in their eyes, but it was quickly extinguished by doubt. What good were supplies if they weren¡¯t shared with the people? No noble they¡¯d ever known would distribute food without demanding something in return. Hughes, seemingly aware of their skepticism, continued. ¡°The problem now is this: we don¡¯t know where everyone in the city lives or how many people there are. That¡¯s why you¡¯ve been summoned¡ªparticularly you, Miss Sarah.¡± Sarah Bob, an illegitimate noblewoman who had been disowned and exiled to Jola, straightened up. Ever since the previous nobles abandoned the city, she had taken it upon herself to document the population, recording names and household numbers to fairly distribute the fish caught by Richard and his crew. ¡°Yes, Ser,¡± Sarah said cautiously, ¡°I do have a list of everyone¡¯s names and the number of family members in each household.¡± Hughes smiled approvingly. ¡°I know. That¡¯s why you¡¯re here. When we spoke with some of the townsfolk, they mentioned your records. Excellent initiative, Miss Sarah.¡± He then addressed the group as a whole. ¡°Here¡¯s what we¡¯re going to do. We¡¯ll use that list to distribute cooked food three times a day. Meals will be provided at the abandoned noble estates, divided into designated groups to ensure fairness. This way, everyone gets their fill, and we can prevent cheating or double claims.¡± The room fell silent as the words sank in. For a moment, it felt like a dream. Free food? Distributed fairly? No noble they had ever known would propose such a thing. Richard stammered, ¡°This¡­ this is¡­¡± ¡°Ser, I-I¡¯ll fetch the list right away!¡± Sarah exclaimed, tears welling in her eyes as she thought of the hungry children finally having enough to eat. Hughes waved her gratitude aside. ¡°You shouldn¡¯t thank me. It was Her Highness who ordered this. It¡¯s also our responsibility as stewards of the empire.¡± The mention of Ravenna left the group momentarily stunned. The stories they had heard about her painted a vastly different picture. Could the rumors have been wrong? Hughes turned to Jessica next. ¡°Miss Jessica, we brought cotton from Willow Town during our journey here. Her Highness has requested that you and some volunteers sew clothes for the townsfolk. We¡¯ve heard the nights here are bitterly cold.¡± Jessica¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief. Free clothes? She quickly nodded. ¡°Yes, of course, Ser. I¡¯ll get started immediately!¡± Hughes then handed Nille a parchment. ¡°Mister Nille, this is for you. Her Highness asked me to give you these designs.¡±A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Nille unfolded the parchment, his hands trembling. On it were three intricate designs, accompanied by detailed instructions. His eyes widened as he scanned them¡ªthese weren¡¯t just tools; they were revolutionary. ¡°Ser,¡± he said, his voice shaking, ¡°when does Her Highness need these completed?¡± ¡°The mud collector cage is to be completed within a week. The others have a three-month deadline,¡± Hughes replied. Nille swallowed hard, nodding. ¡°Understood. I¡¯ll ensure they¡¯re made on time. With these¡­ no one in Jola will ever go hungry again!¡± His words ignited a spark of hope among the group. What kind of tools could ensure the city¡¯s survival? Finally, Hughes turned to Richard. ¡°Mister Richard, we need you to stop fishing for the time being and assist with food distribution and farming.¡± Richard blinked. ¡°Ser¡­ did you say farming? And why stop fishing?¡± Hughes smiled faintly. ¡°Her Highness believes the soil at the bottom of the ocean is fertile. We¡¯ll use it to farm potatoes from the supplies we brought. Your task is to collect seabed soil and help transport it inland.¡± Richard¡¯s mouth fell open. Farming¡­ in Jola? It sounded absurd, yet it made sense. They had all seen green plants growing underwater. If they could use that soil, it might actually work. ¡°And,¡± Hughes added, ¡°one of the designs I gave Mister Nille is a mud collector cage to help you bring up the soil more efficiently. It¡¯ll be ready within a week.¡± Nille nodded. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure of it, Richard. We¡¯ll have that soil in no time!¡± As the group processed the overwhelming news, Hughes concluded, ¡°This is all according to Her Highness¡¯s orders. Unfortunately, she¡¯s unable to meet you in person right now. She fell ill during the journey and is currently resting in her quarters. She asked me to apologize on her behalf.¡± ¡°No, no, Ser Hughes,¡± Richard said quickly, his voice filled with respect. ¡°Please let Her Highness know we wish her a speedy recovery.¡± ¡°Yes,¡± Jessica chimed in. ¡°We¡¯ll make sure everything is ready before her public appearance so she doesn¡¯t see her people hungry or cold!¡± ¡°Right!¡± Nille added enthusiastically. ¡°We¡¯ll start immediately!¡± The group¡¯s excitement and gratitude were palpable. For the first time in years, they felt like hope wasn¡¯t just a distant dream. The rumors about Ravenna, they realized, must have been lies spread by her enemies. Just as they were about to leave, Hughes stopped them. ¡°One more thing,¡± he said, his tone serious. ¡°Have any new people arrived in the city before us?¡± Sarah stepped forward. ¡°Ser, their names are all recorded in my list, including the new arrivals.¡± Hughes smiled faintly. ¡°Good. Thank you, Miss Sarah. That¡¯ll be helpful.¡± The group left the castle, their steps lighter than they¡¯d been in years. Change was coming to Jola, and for the first time, it seemed like it might be for the better. Meanwhile, in the private sanctuary of the Lord¡¯s bedroom, Ravenna sat upright on the grand four-poster bed, her emerald black eyes fixed intently on the glowing system panel before her. The screen displayed several neatly organized spreadsheets. Her fingers danced across the interface as she entered data with precision. ¡°I can¡¯t believe how useful this system is,¡± she murmured, her voice low, almost in awe. The truth was, Ravenna had no idea how to govern an estate, let alone a struggling desert city like Jola. Even with the original Ravenna¡¯s memories, the task was daunting. The former Ravenna had been adept at navigating the treacherous waters of politics, but her expertise ended there. When it came to resource management, infrastructure, and the intricacies of administration, her knowledge was painfully inadequate. This left Ravenna with no choice but to rely on her own experiences¡ªthose from a life far removed from this world. Back in her previous life, she had been a project manager in a reputable corporation. While managing sprawling urban territories was a far cry from overseeing corporate projects, she reasoned that the foundational principles of planning, organization, and execution must remain consistent. It was during her initial days of struggling in the carriage ride she stumbled upon a revelation: the system¡¯s access to the internet, frozen in time to the day of her death, was more valuable than she¡¯d ever imagined. Even though the data was static, it was a treasure trove of information. Blueprints for blacksmithing tools, agricultural innovations, and urban planning concepts lay at her fingertips. She discovered templates and resources that could streamline tasks that once seemed overwhelming. A particularly unexpected boon was finding a free spreadsheet platform, one she had frequently used in her past life. Now, it served as the backbone of her budding plans for Jola, allowing her to track resources, draft budgets, and chart strategies. ¡°If I¡¯m to live as Ravenna Solarius in this city of sun and sand,¡± she muttered, her voice carrying a blend of determination and resignation, ¡°then I¡¯d better do it right.¡± Ravenna leaned back slightly, her gaze lingering on the screen. There was still so much to do, but for now, she allowed herself a rare moment of satisfaction. This wasn¡¯t going to be easy, but she was no stranger to challenges. After all, rebuilding hope from ruins was a project worth pouring her heart into. 6. Jola City鈥檚 State Ravenna couldn''t help but feel a surge of relief and joy as she successfully logged into the website where she used to read The Light¡¯s Conquest novel. The fact that she remembered her username and password was nothing short of a miracle. This meant she could now access crucial details about future events from the novel¡ªa lifeline in a world where her survival depended on staying ahead of everyone else. The internet connection provided by the Reputation System proved to be one of its most powerful features. She leaned back slightly, her lips curling into a small smile. ¡°Alright,¡± she muttered, ¡°time to check out the map and piece together everything about Jola.¡± Jola Island had only been briefly mentioned in The Light¡¯s Conquest, but with Ravenna¡¯s inherited memories and knowledge of the novel¡¯s plot, she began to form a clearer picture of her current predicament. At first, the existence of Jola City baffled her. It seemed more like a liability than an asset to the Ancorna Empire¡ªa desert island with no economic prospects and limited resources, yet one that demanded continuous imperial funding. Why pour money into an island that was essentially a deadweight? The answer, as it turned out, was deeply rooted in the empire¡¯s history. Strategically, Jola¡¯s location was significant. Positioned close to the capital of the Ancorna Empire, it served as a potential shield against foreign invasions. The island¡¯s placement meant that any foreign power attempting to use it as a base of operations would pose a direct threat to the empire¡¯s heartland. However, this alone didn¡¯t justify the establishment of a full-fledged city. A military base would have sufficed. The real reason for Jola¡¯s existence was religion. Decades ago, during the reign of Ravenna¡¯s great-grandfather, the Herptian faith played a pivotal role in defending the empire¡¯s borders. In gratitude for their divine assistance, the emperor granted the Herptian clergy a religious stronghold¡ªJola Island. Its proximity to the capital made it an ideal location for the clergy to exert influence while remaining under the watchful eye of the imperial court. However, as the years passed, the influence of the Herptian faith waned. By the time Ravenna¡¯s grandfather ascended to the throne, the religion was on the brink of collapse, its followers dwindling rapidly. Seeing no further need to invest in Jola, the emperor ceased its development. When Ravenna¡¯s father, Emperor Andrew, took the throne, the situation worsened. The remaining members of the Herptian clergy abandoned the eastern continent entirely, returning to their homeland in the west. They left behind an unfinished city populated by their descendants¡ªpeople who, being culturally and economically disconnected from the mainland, struggled to find a foothold in Ancorna society. Over time, Jola fell into decline. By the time Ravenna was born, the island had lost any semblance of economic value. It was too strategic to abandon but too burdensome to maintain. When Ravenna was framed for her mother¡¯s death, Emperor Andrew saw an opportunity to solve two problems at once¡ªexiling his disgraced daughter while offloading the empire¡¯s most troublesome holding. ¡°Man,¡± Ravenna muttered, rubbing her temples as the realization sank in. ¡°So much for being a minor character, huh?¡± She glanced at the glowing panel of the Reputation System hovering before her. [Reputation System v0.1] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (4800/8200) Current Reputation Points: 6,098 Reputation Rate: Stable Titles: Raven of Sun Palace, Unruly Princess {Reputation Points Log} {Spend Reputation Points} Ravenna grimaced as she reviewed her dwindling points. Using the internet for over ten hours daily had drained her resources faster than she¡¯d anticipated. When she first saw her level¡ª60¡ªshe thought it would give her a comfortable buffer to rely on. But she now realized how na?ve that assumption had been. The daily bonus of 600 points was nowhere near enough to sustain her current usage, especially if she wanted to keep accessing the internet. ¡°Guess I¡¯ll have to cut back,¡± she sighed, dismissing the system panel for now. ¡°No more late-night browsing sessions unless it¡¯s absolutely necessary.¡± Shifting her focus, Ravenna picked up the reports Hughes had left for her. Among them was a detailed list compiled by Sarah Bob, one of the more capable citizens of Jola. The document outlined the names of every individual in the city¡ªa staggering 5,000 people¡ªand grouped them based on social status, household affiliations, and other categories.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Ravenna¡¯s brows furrowed as she scanned the reports. She had to admit, the organizational skills of the people surprised her. Despite the dire state of the island, their will to survive shone through in remarkable ways. Sarah, along with a group of literate citizens, had taken the initiative to create an orderly system for managing resources. The lists were particularly helpful in distributing the fish caught by Richard and his men, ensuring that food reached those who needed it most. Being a former religious stronghold turned out to be an unexpected blessing. The Herptian clergy had emphasized literacy as part of their teachings, leaving behind a population where even peasants possessed basic reading and writing skills. This legacy made it significantly easier for Jola¡¯s people to organize themselves in the absence of noble oversight. Ravenna leaned back, letting the reports rest on her lap. For the first time, she felt a glimmer of hope. Jola might be a forgotten, crumbling city, but it wasn¡¯t without potential. Its people were resilient, resourceful, and willing to work for a better future. ¡°It¡¯s not much,¡± Ravenna murmured, closing her ledger with a sigh, ¡°but it¡¯s a start. Let¡¯s see how far we can take this.¡± The flickering candlelight illuminated the detailed ledgers and maps scattered across her bed, all evidence of the tireless effort she¡¯d put into stabilizing Jola Island. Despite the weight of responsibility pressing down on her, she couldn¡¯t afford to falter now. Ravenna reviewed the expenses once again. She had purchased wheat and other storable grains worth 150 Mana Coins, a strategic decision she hoped would sustain the 5,000 citizens of Jola for at least three months. To ensure the grains wouldn¡¯t spoil in the island''s harsh, humid climate, she had spent 50 Mana Coins on enchantments for preservation. Another 50 Mana Coins had gone to pay for the ship and crew that transported the supplies from the mainland¡ªa steep cost, exacerbated by the inflated prices imposed on her due to her title, The Unruly Princess. Even small purchases came with additional charges, a bitter reminder of her precarious position in the empire. Her plan, while effective, had drained her resources rapidly. Ravenna had decided to repurpose the empty noble estates scattered across the city into communal dining halls. Each hall would serve cooked meals three times a day, ensuring equitable distribution of food to all. The idea was practical and fostered unity among the citizens, but it came with significant costs. She still had to allocate funds to pay the laborers managing the food distribution system, as well as the knights under her command. With a simple calculation, she realized that after all the monthly expenses, she would be left with no more than 50 or 60 Mana Coins. That was assuming there were no unexpected emergencies¡ªan unlikely prospect given Jola''s unstable state. The thought left a sour taste in her mouth. ¡°We¡¯re stretched thin,¡± Ravenna muttered under her breath, her fingers tracing the edges of the parchment. ¡°If Neil doesn¡¯t finish the tools on time, we¡¯ll be back to square one.¡± The blacksmith, Neil, was her last hope for establishing some semblance of self-sufficiency on the island. She had tasked him with crafting essential farming tools and equipment based on designs from online, Hughes had delivered them to him. While Neil might be skilled, she wasn¡¯t sure if he had the materials¡ªor the time¡ªto complete the job as quickly as she needed. The entire agricultural plan hinged on his success. Her gaze shifted to another set of papers detailing her ambitious but precarious farming initiative. Drawing inspiration from her research online, she intended to use nutrient-rich soil from the seabed to cultivate crops, particularly potatoes. Potatoes were hardy, easy to grow, and could provide the caloric intake needed to sustain the population. However, the plan was far from foolproof. Watching a video and executing it in real life were two entirely different things. She lacked both practical farming knowledge and the luxury of time for experimentation. If the potato farming failed, she¡¯d be forced to dip into her remaining funds to buy food again¡ªan unsustainable solution. With no additional revenue streams, the city would be right back to where it started: starving, desperate, and vulnerable. Ravenna closed her eyes, rubbing her temples as the weight of her responsibilities settled heavily on her shoulders. ¡°Come on, Ravenna. Think. There has to be another way.¡± She glanced back at her ledger, flipping through pages of expenditures and debts. Her remaining 180 Mana Coins needed to stretch far enough to cover labor costs, including the wages of the volunteers organizing food distribution, and her knights who provided critical security in a city rife with uncertainty. The flickering candlelight cast her shadow on the wall, a stark reminder of how solitary her battle was. Yet, despite the challenges, she refused to give up. The stakes were too high for hesitation or doubt. ¡°I need Neil to finish those designs,¡± she muttered, her voice laced with determination. ¡°And I need those potatoes to grow. If either of these fails¡­¡± She trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought. 7. Stabilizing Ravenna woke to the blazing heat of the desert sun streaming through the open window of her bedroom. Even dressed in an almost sheer, loose-fitting nightgown that clung to her skin, the relentless heat of Jola Island was inescapable. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she fanned herself lightly as her maids bustled around to help her prepare for the day. Once ready, Ravenna inspected her reflection in the tall, polished mirror. She wore a sleeveless crop top crafted from airy, breathable silk, the fabric light enough to keep her cool while retaining a touch of regal sophistication. Intricate embroidery, interwoven with fine golden threads, shimmered under the room¡¯s soft light, accentuating the deep royal purple of the garment. The color was a striking contrast to her midnight-black hair, which cascaded in loose waves down her back. She paired the top with a high-waisted maxi skirt that flowed elegantly around her legs, its soft folds swaying with every movement. Subtle side slits in the skirt added a hint of daring practicality, allowing her both freedom of movement and an understated allure. Today marked three weeks since Ravenna had found herself in this unfamiliar world¡ªand two weeks since she¡¯d arrived on Jola Island. According to Light¡¯s Conquest''s narrative, Eugene and Prince William would soon be embroiled in a new crisis. That meant, for now, she had a window of time where they would be too preoccupied to interfere with her plans. Still, she couldn¡¯t delay much longer. Hiding behind the guise of illness had bought her some time to assess her situation, but it was no longer viable. Sooner or later, William would learn that she was alive and well. When that happened, he would undoubtedly redirect his focus to eliminate her from his path. However, Ravenna was resolute¡ªshe would not remain a passive player in this story waiting to be slaughtered. It was time to act. After a quick breakfast, Ravenna strode confidently to the castle¡¯s entrance near the stables. The intense sunlight reflected off the white stone walls, making the air shimmer. Her knights, stationed at the gates, stiffened as soon as she approached. They bowed deeply, their postures rigid under her sharp, commanding gaze. With her piercing eyes and natural air of authority, Ravenna had a reputation for looking both captivatingly beautiful and dangerously unapproachable¡ªa combination that earned her the nickname ¡°Seductive Demon¡± among her subjects. Her eyes fixed on Vice Captain John, and with a voice as firm as steel, she commanded, ¡°Get the carriage ready. I want to see the current state of the city.¡± John saluted sharply and sprinted to carry out her orders. Watching him hurry away, Ravenna sighed inwardly. My villainous appearance really works wonders, she thought, almost amused. She was as beautiful as a model, but her intense glare often made her seem like a creature born to intimidate. It wasn¡¯t something she was very fond of, but she had learned to use it to her advantage. Within minutes, the carriage arrived, a polished vehicle adorned with modest embellishments that reflected both her rank and the imperial prestige. Ravenna stepped in gracefully, settling into the plush interior as her knights formed a protective formation around the carriage. As the wheels began to turn, Ravenna¡¯s thoughts drifted to the progress Hughes had reported. He and several knights were down at the docks, coordinating with fishermen and laborers to haul soil from the seabed onto dry land. If successful, the seabed soil might serve as a foundation for cultivating potatoes and other hardy crops, providing a much-needed solution to the island¡¯s food crisis. The streets of Jola bustled with energy as the carriage moved through the city. Ravenna noticed the change immediately. Where there had once been hollow-eyed citizens dragging their feet, there was now life and movement. Men, women, and children stood at the edges of the road, their faces brighter than she remembered. They bowed low or fell to their knees as her carriage passed, their gratitude palpable. Ravenna gazed out at them, momentarily unsure how to respond. She was about to tell them to rise¡ªit seemed unnecessary to bow so deeply¡ªwhen suddenly, a translucent notification screen appeared in front of her. [Reputation Points System] The points kept stacking, line after line, as her carriage moved forward. She raised an eyebrow in surprise. Reputation points? she thought, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. If merely riding through the city could garner so many points, perhaps she should make a habit of dramatic appearances. It seemed like an easy way to build her reputation and strengthen her influence to stack more points.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. The carriage finally reached the southern region of the city, where smoke rose in thin wisps from a large noble estate. Ravenna recognized it immediately¡ªHughes had mentioned that the blacksmiths had repurposed the estate into a workshop to build equipment for transporting seabed soil. The smoke was likely from their furnaces, working tirelessly to produce the mud cages and other tools required for the farming initiative. As they drew closer, Ravenna noticed a small patch of greenery near the estate. The sight of it made her heart skip a beat. The experimental potato plants were growing in neat rows, their verdant leaves a stark contrast to the surrounding arid land. It wasn¡¯t much yet, but it was a symbol of hope¡ªa sign that her gamble might just pay off. She stepped out of the carriage, her gaze fixed on the greenery, and a rare smile tugged at her lips. This is only the beginning, she thought. If we can make this work, we¡¯ll turn this island into a place where no one has to kneel for food ever again. Her attention shifted to the crowd gathered nearby. Long lines of Citizens stood patiently outside makeshift food distribution counters, each waiting their turn for a steaming bowl of porridge. This estate, previously a grandiose noble¡¯s residence, now served a nobler purpose¡ªfeeding the people. Men, women, and children held bowls in anticipation, their expressions a mixture of hunger and gratitude. Ravenna noticed how focused the Citizens were. None had even glanced in her direction, their eyes fixed on the lifeline of food before them. For a brief moment, she considered simply walking past the crowd to inspect the blacksmiths working in the backyard. After all, that was her original purpose here. But then a sly thought crossed her mind. How can I let such an easy opportunity to gain reputation points slip away? ¡°John,¡± she called sharply, her piercing gaze landing on the vice knight captain. ¡°Why don¡¯t these peasants recognize my imperial carriage or, more importantly, me?¡± John, already nervous from her intimidating presence, visibly gulped before responding. ¡°Your Highness, how could they possibly fail to acknowledge your regal and dazzling appearance? It must be the dusty air obscuring their vision! Allow me to rectify this insult immediately!¡± Before she could reply, John and a group of knights hurried toward the distribution counters. With loud, authoritative voices, they announced, ¡°Her Royal Highness, Princess Ravenna, has arrived!¡± Their voices carried over the murmuring crowd like thunder rolling through the desert sky. The remaining knights stationed around the estate bowed deeply, signaling the people to follow suit. The Citizens, startled by the sudden commotion, turned toward Ravenna. Realizing her presence, they quickly dropped to one knee, their heads bowed low. For most of them, this was the first time they had seen the princess in person. Word had already spread of her generosity¡ªof how she had brought stability and food to the island during a time of desperate hunger. Many had felt gratitude toward her even before this moment. Now, seeing her regal figure in person, their awe multiplied. Standing tall amidst the reverent silence, Ravenna¡¯s lips curled into a small, condescending smile. Her piercing gaze swept across the kneeling crowd like a raven surveying its prey. ¡°My, my,¡± she said, her voice cool yet cutting. ¡°I had thought all peasants were tasteless, mannerless hoglings. It seems I was mistaken. The people of Jola Island, at least, have a semblance of gratitude.¡± Her words, delivered with an air of superiority, sent a ripple through the crowd. Some of the Citizens trembled under her glare, while others looked on with a mixture of fear and admiration. Her beauty, both dazzling and menacing, left an impression that would not be forgotten. As the Citizens remained in their humbled poses, a familiar notification panel appeared in Ravenna¡¯s vision. [Reputation Points System] Satisfied, Ravenna raised her hand in a dismissive wave. ¡°Return to your tasks,¡± she commanded, her tone dismissive yet laced with authority. ¡°Do not waste time lingering.¡± The Citizens quickly obeyed, resuming their positions in line or tending to their bowls of porridge. As the crowd dispersed, Ravenna turned and made her way toward the backyard of the estate. The clang of hammers and the hiss of steam greeted her as she approached the blacksmiths¡¯ workshop. In this once-grand noble estate, now a center of industry, the blacksmiths were hard at work. Smoke rose in thick plumes from several forges, and the air vibrated with the rhythmic pounding of metal. Craftsmen toiled tirelessly, shaping mud cages and other tools essential for harvesting the seabed soil that was giving new life to the island. Ravenna¡¯s steps were deliberate and slow, each one echoing her calculated authority. Her black hair shimmered under the harsh desert sun, her embroidered royal garments flowing like liquid silk as she moved. The knights followed closely, ensuring no one dared approach her without permission. 8. Jola鈥檚 Progress As Ravenna stepped into the blacksmiths¡¯ workplace, the bustling activity came to an abrupt halt. The workers, covered in soot and sweat, turned their attention to her with a mix of awe and trepidation. The same scene unfolded as before: kneeling bows and hushed whispers rippled through the group. Ravenna dismissed their greetings with a single, dispassionate wave, her eyes scanning the surroundings with sharp precision. The forge was alive with the roar of flames and the rhythmic clanging of hammers striking metal. Sparks danced in the air like fireflies, while the heat emanating from the blazing furnaces created a suffocating atmosphere. She approached a burly man standing near a large anvil, his face flushed from exertion. ¡°You must be Nille, the head blacksmith,¡± Ravenna said, her tone cold and cutting as her piercing gaze locked onto him. ¡°How is the progress coming along?¡± Nille stiffened under her scrutiny, his throat tightening. He hastily bowed, his voice shaky as he replied, ¡°Y-yes, Your Highness. I am Nille.¡± After straightening up, he gestured toward the workers laboring in the forge. ¡°We¡¯ve completed about 150 mud cages so far. Richard and the fishermen are already using them to collect seabed soil daily. At this pace, we estimate we can produce at least 300 cages by the end of the month.¡± He paused, nervously eyeing Ravenna¡¯s expression. Her sharp eyes betrayed no sign of praise, her face remaining an inscrutable mask of icy authority. Nille swallowed hard and continued, ¡°As for the other two designs Your Highness provided... we¡¯re unsure if we can complete them.¡± Ravenna¡¯s gaze turned even colder, her voice laced with an edge that sent a shiver down Nille¡¯s spine. ¡°And why is that? Hughes assured me you were talented enough to handle this.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not the designs, Your Highness,¡± Nille stammered, shaking his head. ¡°It¡¯s the lack of resources. We simply don¡¯t have enough iron, and we¡¯re severely understaffed.¡± Ravenna regarded him in silence for a moment, her penetrating stare making the blacksmith fidget under the weight of her presence. Finally, she nodded. ¡°I see. Very well.¡± Her tone softened just enough to avoid being mistaken for disapproval. ¡°You¡¯ve done decent work so far. I will ensure you have the materials and manpower required to finish the task.¡± She turned sharply on her heel, her skirt trailing behind her as she made her way out. ¡°Good work, everyone,¡± she said over her shoulder, her words clipped but loud enough for the entire forge to hear. ¡°Keep at it.¡± The blacksmiths exhaled collectively, their shoulders sagging in relief as she exited the workplace and headed back to her carriage. The designs Nille referred to were for a rudimentary blast furnace and an early steam engine¡ªconcepts Ravenna had painstakingly researched online during her journey to Jola Island. She had deliberately chosen designs simple enough for this world¡¯s blacksmiths to construct, provided they had the resources. In this world, steel production still relied on labor-intensive manual methods. The introduction of a blast furnace and steam engines would revolutionize the process, potentially turning Jola Island into a steel powerhouse and securing a steady stream of income. Yet, Ravenna realized now she may have been overly hasty. The island¡¯s current lack of iron and skilled labor was a significant obstacle, one she needed to overcome before her plans could bear fruit. As the carriage rolled toward the docks, Ravenna gazed out at the coastline. The salty air carried the distant cries of seagulls and the rhythmic crashing of waves. Small canoes bobbed on the water, their occupants hauling cages filled with seabed soil. Each canoe towed at least two or three of the makeshift cages, their operators working tirelessly under the scorching midday sun. When the carriage came to a stop, Ravenna stepped down gracefully. The knights stationed nearby immediately dropped to one knee, bowing their heads in deference. In the distance, Hughes, overseeing the dock operations, noticed the commotion. He was working alongside Richard, coordinating the incoming boats and their cargo.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. ¡°Her Highness has arrived!¡± Hughes exclaimed, his voice filled with urgency. He turned to Richard. ¡°Get everyone in order, now! Make sure they¡¯re on their best behavior.¡± Richard¡¯s eyes widened, and he quickly made his way to the fishermen. ¡°The princess is here! Shape up, all of you!¡± he barked, his tone commanding. Ravenna walked along the shoreline, the sun¡¯s relentless heat beating down on her. The midday heat had grown oppressive, casting a golden haze over the docks. Despite the sweat trickling down the faces of the workers, they straightened up and bowed as she passed, their expressions a mix of respect and nervousness. Her gaze swept over the bustling activity¡ªthe constant movement of boats, the soil being unloaded and inspected, and the fishermen¡¯s calloused hands working tirelessly. Despite the intense heat and the weight of her plans, a small flicker of satisfaction stirred within her. The people of Jola Island were beginning to rise to the occasion, and she was determined to ensure they succeeded. As she approached, Hughes immediately straightened and bowed. His uniform was slightly disheveled, and a light sheen of sweat covered his brow from the heat and constant activity. Ravenna¡¯s tone was sharp, yet laced with a hint of sardonic amusement. ¡°It seems you¡¯re quite enjoying yourself here at the docks, Hughes,¡± she said, her lips curling ever so slightly into a smirk. Hughes stiffened, his throat tightening. ¡°I¡ªI am working hard, Your Highness,¡± he stammered, ¡°to ensure the task is completed efficiently!¡± Her smirk widened slightly. ¡°I can see that,¡± she replied, her voice deceptively soft. ¡°Perhaps you¡¯re better suited to this sort of work than serving as my Knight Captain.¡± Hughes blanched. ¡°How can you say that, Your Highness?¡± he protested, his voice tinged with panic. ¡°I have been your Knight Captain since¡ª¡± Ravenna cut him off mid-sentence, her tone now sharp enough to slice through steel. ¡°It was a jest, Hughes. Or rather, it might have been¡ªif it weren¡¯t taking you so long to complete such a simple task and return to your proper post. How else am I to interpret this delay?¡± Before Hughes could stammer out another excuse, Ravenna¡¯s piercing gaze shifted to the man standing beside him. ¡°You,¡± she said, her voice commanding. ¡°You are Richard, the leader of Jola¡¯s fishermen, correct?¡± The burly fisherman nodded quickly, his words caught in his throat as the sheer weight of Ravenna¡¯s authority pressed down on him. Despite his years of experience leading his fellow fishermen, standing before the Unruly Princess of Ancorna was enough to make his knees weak. ¡°How long does it take to organize a fleet of fishermen to gather mud from the seabed?¡± Ravenna asked, her tone calm but carrying an edge that left no room for evasion. ¡°Hughes has been overseeing this task for two weeks now. Two weeks.¡± Richard gulped, sweat dripping from his temple as he stammered out a reply. ¡°Y-Your Highness,¡± he began, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°I¡ªI understand the operation fully now. Ser Hughes is no longer needed here. I am confident we can continue gathering the soil without his oversight.¡± Ravenna studied him for a moment, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly before she nodded. ¡°Good. Hughes,¡± she said, turning back to her Knight Captain, ¡°you will return to your post by evening. Once you have done so, come to my study. I have new orders for you.¡± With that, she turned and began walking back toward her carriage, her skirt swaying with each step. Her departure left an oppressive silence in her wake. Richard finally exhaled, releasing a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he was holding. His legs felt weak, and his heart pounded in his chest. He had thought¡ªno, feared¡ªthat he might openly defy her when she first arrived. But standing before her now, he knew such an act would have been impossible. Her presence alone had silenced him, and her relentless drive to improve the lives of Jola¡¯s citizens commanded both respect and gratitude. Hughes dusted himself off as he straightened, turning to Richard with a wry smile. ¡°Well, you heard Her Highness,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll be leaving this task in your hands now. Make sure to follow the protocols and maintain the discipline I¡¯ve drilled into you.¡± Richard nodded, a small, nervous smile tugging at his lips. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Ser Hughes. I¡¯ll handle it. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse me, I need to get moving before Her Highness finds another reason to be displeased. They say her temper is as fragile as glass. I¡¯d rather not be on the receiving end of her wrath.¡± Hughes chuckled at the comment but leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. ¡°Whatever you¡¯ve heard about her,¡± he said, his tone grave, ¡°is watered down. Trust me on that.¡± With that ominous remark, Hughes turned on his heel and strode away, leaving Richard standing there, more determined than ever to ensure everything ran smoothly under Her Highness¡¯s watchful eye. 9. Broadleaf Arrowhead As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of amber and crimson, Ravenna sat in her study, gazing out of the wide, arched window. The tranquil view of the darkening sea calmed her restless mind, but only slightly. The dimming light cast long shadows across the room, dancing over the polished wood of her desk, the scattered parchments, and the flickering candlelight. Even now, a month after she had awoken in this world as Ravenna, it still felt surreal at times. The faint memory of her previous life lingered like a half-remembered dream, refusing to completely fade. She had come to accept this reality but the odd dissonance between who she was and who she had been crept up on her in quiet moments like this. Shaking her head, she drew her attention back to the glowing blue interface of the reputation system hovering before her. With a few mental commands, she opened the website where she read Light''s Conquest. According to its timeline, Prince William and Eugene were currently deep in the Ancorna Empire¡¯s underground, dealing with a ring of slave traders. This arc was one of the novel''s pivotal moments, solidifying William''s reputation as a righteous contender for the throne and garnering him widespread public support. ¡°They must be completely focused on that mess right now,¡± Ravenna muttered to herself, her lips curling into a faint smirk. ¡°With any luck, neither William nor Eugene will waste a second thought on an exiled princess with no money or power.¡± The idea brought a small sense of relief, though it did little to quell the nagging unease in the back of her mind. For now, she was content to remain unnoticed. All Ravenna wanted was to turn Jola into a self-sufficient dukedom where she could live out the rest of her life peacefully, far away from the chaos of the novel¡¯s central plot. Given that she was supposed to be dead by now in the story, steering clear of the main storyline seemed the most logical and safest course of action. Her gaze shifted to the documents scattered on her desk, filled with notes, sketches, and half-formed plans. She sighed deeply, running a hand through her dark hair. ¡°I really need to figure out how to stabilize the economy,¡± she muttered, her brow furrowing. ¡°The steel production idea isn¡¯t as simple as I thought.¡± Initially, Ravenna had hoped to kickstart Jola¡¯s economy by building blast furnaces and introducing steam engines to mass-produce steel. The plan had seemed sound¡ªsteel would bring steady income and establish Jola as a valuable trade partner. But after meeting with Nille, the chief blacksmith, she learned just how impractical it was. The lack of manpower and iron ore were insurmountable hurdles for now. ¡°Manpower and iron,¡± Ravenna repeated softly, her fingers tapping idly on the edge of her desk. Most of Jola¡¯s residents were either jobless or scraping by with odd jobs to survive. The economic collapse that followed the nobles¡¯ departure had left the island in ruins. And with no ships from the mainland visiting anymore, trade was nonexistent. Still, she couldn¡¯t just divert all the idle hands to the blacksmiths. Farming had to take precedence. Once the soil extraction project was complete, she would need at least one to two thousand people working the fields to ensure the island¡¯s self-sufficiency. Besides, blacksmithing required skill¡ªskills that would take years to cultivate, even with training. ¡°It¡¯s not like I can snap my fingers and make people into expert blacksmiths overnight,¡± Ravenna muttered, her voice tinged with frustration. Leaning back in her chair, she closed her eyes for a moment. ¡°I should stop thinking about this for now... maybe even relax.¡± But the thought of relaxing felt almost foreign to her, there was always something that needed her attention, some crisis to manage. Her moment of solitude was interrupted by a firm knock at the door. Ravenna¡¯s sharp eyes flicked toward it, her expression already shifting back to her calm, authoritative mask. ¡°Your Highness, it¡¯s Hughes,¡± came the familiar voice from beyond the door. ¡°Come in,¡± Ravenna called, her tone steady but laced with a hint of curiosity. Straightening in her chair, she prepared herself to dispense orders to her Knight Captain, her sharp gaze fixed on the heavy oak door. The door creaked open, and Hughes stepped inside, his polished boots tapping softly against the stone floor. Bowing deeply, he greeted her with the deference she had come to expect. Ravenna wasted no time.If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. ¡°Report. What have you found regarding the spies?¡± she demanded in a commanding voice, her posture rigid and her eyes glinting with authority. Hughes straightened and nodded. ¡°Thanks to Miss Sarah¡¯s list of Citizens, we¡¯ve identified a few prime targets¡ªthose who arrived on the island shortly before us. Many of the knights and I have been gathering information on them while assisting Richard with the soil extraction project.¡± His tone was careful, measured, as though he were treading on thin ice. ¡°And?¡± Ravenna prompted, her piercing glare locking onto him. Her patience, as always, was in short supply. Hughes gulped under her intense scrutiny before continuing, ¡°We discovered several bunches of Alyssum flowers with engravings on them. We are almost certain they were meant to be sent to none other than His Highness, Prince William... and His Majesty, Emperor Andrew.¡± Ravenna arched a brow, her lips curving into a sardonic smile. ¡°Oh, how amusing,¡± she said with a faint chuckle. ¡°So, not only does my dear brother want to confirm whether I¡¯m still alive, but even my father feels compelled to take an interest?¡± Her tone was deceptively light, but Hughes stiffened, visibly uncomfortable. He couldn¡¯t possibly know what storm of thoughts was brewing in Ravenna¡¯s mind. ¡°Why the hell is the Emperor involved in this? Why are so many people suddenly fixated on me, a minor character in the story?¡° she fumed inwardly, though outwardly, she maintained an intimidating smile that sent a chill down Hughes¡¯s spine. ¡°A-And,¡± Hughes stammered, clearly scrambling for good news to alleviate the tension, ¡°we also found Broadleaf Arrowhead flowers growing near the eastern coastline. Richard and his team have started investigating them.¡± Ravenna¡¯s eyes lit up with interest. ¡°Broadleaf Arrowhead? How many? Can they be cultivated?¡± she asked, her voice quick with curiosity. Her mind was already racing, considering the implications. These underwater flowers, though not particularly remarkable on their own, were often used as components in large-scale magic rituals when paired with other rare flora. Hughes seemed to relax slightly, encouraged by her interest. ¡°The flowers appear to be growing in clusters. Richard and his team are assessing the extent of their growth as we speak. I¡¯ll have their findings by tomorrow.¡± ¡°Good,¡± Ravenna replied, her voice calmer now. ¡°Dismissed.¡± Hughes bowed deeply once more before retreating from the room, his boots clicking against the floor as he left. The heavy door shut behind him with a dull thud, leaving Ravenna alone with her thoughts once more. She leaned back in her chair, her fingers drumming lightly against the armrest. Magic in this world was heavily reliant on flowers, each type possessing unique properties that could be harnessed for spells and rituals. Alyssum flowers, for example, were commonly used to send short-range magical messages. They weren¡¯t particularly expensive or secure, which made it all the more curious that spies supposedly working for her brother and father were relying on such low-grade magic. ¡°Either they don¡¯t care about being caught, assuming I¡¯m too powerless to act, or someone deliberately wants me to suspect William and the Emperor, she mused, her brow furrowing. Whatever the truth is, these spies don¡¯t seem well-equipped to cause any real trouble¡ªat least not yet.¡± Setting the spy issue aside for now, Ravenna turned her focus to the discovery of the Broadleaf Arrowhead. These underwater flowers weren¡¯t inherently valuable, but their utility in large-scale spells held potential, potential that could translate into much-needed economic benefits for Jola. Her knowledge of magic, however, was still rudimentary. She had learned the basics from the memories, but advanced spellcraft remained beyond her grasp. Thankfully, the Reputation System provided her with tools to bridge that gap. With a thought, she summoned the interface of the system, its blue glow casting a faint light over her desk. The familiar menu appeared before her: [Reputation System v0.1] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (4894/8200) Current Reputation Points: 9,046 Titles: Raven of Sun Palace, Unruly Princess {Reputation Points Log} {Spend Reputation Points} Her eyes flicked to the ¡°Spend Reputation Points¡± menu. Thanks to her earlier antics earlier today, she had accumulated a significant amount of points¡ªnearly 3,000 more than yesterday. A small smile crept across her face. At least her flair for drama had its advantages. She selected the menu and scanned the options: [Spend Reputation Points] Without hesitation, she activated the Magic Spell Library. A flood of knowledge filled her field of view as she began searching for spells involving Broadleaf Arrowhead. If these flowers could be used to create something of economic value, be it potions, charms, or even components for trade. it might be the key to stabilizing Jola¡¯s crumbling economy. 10. Saintess Imperial Capital of the Ancorna Empire ¨C An Underground Black Market, Slave Auction, Beneath the gleaming facade of the Imperial Capital of the Ancorna Empire lay a shadowy underworld teeming with illicit activity. The underground black market, infamous across the eastern continent, had come alive in the labyrinthine tunnels beneath the city. Vendors shouted over each other, their voices blending into a discordant roar as they peddled forbidden wares¡ªbanned flowers, mind-altering narcotics, and dangerous magical artifacts. Dimly lit alleys buzzed with whispered negotiations as loan sharks preyed on desperate souls. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone, sweat, and the pungent tang of incense meant to conceal the pervasive odor of decay. This market was more than a hive of illegal trade¡ªit was a moving beast, never settling in one place for long. Each year, it shifted to a new location, evading authorities and ensuring its survival. This time, however, it had brazenly set up within the Imperial Capital itself, mocking the empire''s rule of law. Two hooded figures navigated the chaos with purpose. Eugene, the protagonist of Light¡¯s Conquest, moved confidently through the crowd, his posture betraying his familiarity with this world. Beside him was Prince William, equally cloaked and attempting to appear inconspicuous. Their destination: an auction hosted by Hericules, a notorious slave-trading ring. William leaned in, his voice a tense whisper. ¡°Do you truly believe the Saintess is among the slaves? The Solious Church would have found her long before it came to this.¡± Eugene¡¯s eyes narrowed beneath his hood. ¡°She¡¯s here,¡± he said firmly. ¡°The Church will discover her too, but by then, it¡¯ll be too late. If we don¡¯t act now, we¡¯ll lose her.¡± William nodded, though the doubt lingering in his expression didn¡¯t escape Eugene¡¯s notice. Eugene sighed inwardly as his thoughts turned to the truth he had carried since his return. He was a regressor, a man who had already lived this life once before. In his first life, Eugene had been a nameless soldier, one among thousands who perished during the Second Great War¡ªthe apocalyptic conflict unleashed by the rise of the Witch of the West. His death had been unremarkable, but his rebirth was extraordinary. Fifteen years before the Witch¡¯s rise, Eugene had found himself back in his 20-year-old body, gifted¡ªor cursed¡ªwith the chance to rewrite history. Driven by the memories of a future drenched in blood, he resolved to alter the course of events and prepare the world for the trials to come. In this timeline, Eugene had already achieved much. Within a year, he had risen to knighthood, becoming a trusted ally of Prince William. Together, they uncovered the truth behind the murder of William¡¯s mother, ensuring Ravenna¡¯s exile before she could ascend to power as Empress. Eugene¡¯s efforts had strengthened William¡¯s position and bolstered the empire¡¯s defenses, but his most critical task was still ahead: securing the Saintess. In Eugene¡¯s first life, the Saintess had been sold to the Hericules slave traders and eventually purchased by the Herptian clergy. Unlike the vile reputation of the traders, the clergy had acted out of compassion, buying slaves to liberate them. They took the Saintess to their homeland on the western continent, where they nurtured her as their High Priestess. However, this act of salvation led to disastrous consequences. When the Solious Church learned of her fate, they declared the Great War, mobilizing the eastern continent''s armies against the Herptian faction. The conflict spread like wildfire, consuming nations and leaving a world in ruin. Though the Saintess remained loyal to the Herptian clergy, even refusing to return to the Solious Church, her death in the aftermath of the war left the eastern continent shattered.Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. It was then, amidst the ashes of the Great War, that the Witch of the West emerged. With no unified force to oppose her, her armies swept across the continents, plunging the world into the Second Great War. This time, Eugene was determined to change everything. Their mission was simple but perilous: rescue the Saintess before the Hericules traders could sell her, ensuring she never fell into the Herptian clergy''s hands. By doing so, Eugene hoped to prevent the chain of events that had led to the Great War and secure a future where the world stood united against the Witch of the West. The auction hall loomed ahead, its entrance guarded by heavily armed men. Eugene¡¯s hand drifted to the hilt of his sword beneath his cloak, his eyes scanning for threats. The room beyond buzzed with anticipation, filled with buyers eager to stake their claim on lives reduced to commodities. Eugene¡¯s jaw tightened. He could not afford to fail¡ªnot here, not now. The future of the world depended on what he and William did in the next few hours. This time, the Great War would not come to pass. This time, the Saintess would be saved. And when the Witch of the West rose, the world would be ready. Next Day in Jola Island, In Northern Ancornian Seas, North of Ancorna Empire¡¯s Capital, As the morning sun climbed higher, Ravenna awoke to the relentless heat of the desert sun streaming through the open window of her bedroom, a scene she had come to expect over the past few weeks. The room was sparsely furnished, with cooling curtains doing little to mitigate the scorching temperatures. ¡°I ought to do something about the air conditioning sometime,¡± she muttered, clapping her hands to summon her maids to assist her in getting ready for the day. After a refreshing bath, changing into her attire, and a hearty breakfast, Ravenna entered her study and settled into her work. Today, she wore a silk purple gown that was exceptionally thin, gracefully accentuating her slim, elegant figure. The lightweight fabric provided a modest reprieve from the oppressive heat, allowing her to move freely while maintaining her regal appearance. Seated at her ornate desk, Ravenna activated the Reputation System to continue her tasks from the previous night. The interface glowed softly, displaying her current status: [Reputation System v0.1] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (4898/8200) Current Reputation Points: 9,723 Titles: Raven of Sun Palace, Unruly Princess {Reputation Points Log} {Spend Reputation Points} Ravenna had amassed additional points today: her daily 600 points, combined with her captivating attire and authoritative presence, had left a strong impression on both the maids and knights, earning her an extra 100 points. Intent on furthering her plans, Ravenna continued to delve into the Magic Spell Library, searching for applications of Broadleaf Arrowhead. She meticulously reviewed the available spells but found none that offered economic viability or significant advantages for her current needs: [Magic Spell Library] All spells requiring Broadleaf Arrowhead were classified as legendary and advanced, far beyond the current understanding and capabilities of the world¡¯s inhabitants. The additional requirements for these spells were equally unattainable, rendering them practically impossible to execute at this time. Ravenna sighed in frustration. The technique of artificially crossbreeding flowers, as described in the original novel Light¡¯s Conquest, wasn¡¯t introduced until halfway through the story, making it clear that this avenue was a dead end for now. 11. Water of Jola Ravenna sighed as she gazed out of the window, the golden desert stretching endlessly under the blazing sun. Life as Ravenna Solarius wasn¡¯t particularly difficult for her. Her memories and the sense of familiarity she retained from the original character made the transition manageable. Yet, despite the relative comfort, her position came with challenges she could not ignore. The most pressing of all was the responsibility of stabilizing Jola Island before the dwindling treasury ran dry. Though she wasn¡¯t currently struggling, she knew the peaceful days had an expiration date. The thought loomed over her like the unforgiving desert heat. ¡°On Earth, I only had to worry about myself,¡± she muttered, a hint of exasperation in her voice. ¡°But now...¡± The weight of managing a city of 5,000 people wasn¡¯t overwhelming, but it was undeniably taxing. It wasn¡¯t just about ensuring survival; it was about building sustainability. ¡°Whatever,¡± she mumbled dismissively, flipping through the documents scattered across her desk. A particular report caught her attention. It detailed how the island¡¯s residents sourced their drinking water. She had a vague understanding of the process before but had never delved into the specifics. Now, the document laid it out clearly: Current Water-Sourcing Methods on Jola Island Ravenna set the report down and leaned back in her chair, deep in thought. These methods were sufficient for now, but they wouldn¡¯t be enough once the island began farming and growing crops in the coming weeks. The water demand would skyrocket, and they needed a more efficient system. Her first instinct was to create an elevated large tank system that could use sunlight to heat water to get drinking water then distribute water through taps across the city using gravity. It seemed like an obvious solution. However, the absence of modern technology posed a significant challenge. Pumps were essential to move water into elevated tanks, but electricity didn¡¯t exist here. If the steam engines were easy to make, the logistics of acquiring materials and assembling the necessary manpower problem resurfaced again here. Frustrated, she turned to the Reputation System. She spent two hours combing through ideas, only to hit dead end after dead end. Finally, inspiration struck. ¡°Don¡¯t waterwheels pump water?¡± Ravenna exclaimed. The solution was so simple that she berated herself for not thinking of it sooner. Waterwheels could pump seawater into elevated tanks, which could then serve two purposes:Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website. This system would allow every corner of the city to access fresh water through a network of taps, eliminating the need for residents to walk long distances to collect water manually. However, this idea introduced a new set of challenges: Ravenna leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples in frustration. She reopened the system and resumed her research, desperately seeking answers to the growing list of problems. After another hour of scrolling through fragmented solutions and vague ideas, she let out a long, exhausted sigh. Her thoughts had begun to crystallize, revealing a clear path forward. Two things stood out as immediate priorities: First, she needed an architect or structural engineer capable of designing the elevated water tanks and the waterwheel system. Without someone with expertise, her plan would remain nothing more than a sketch on paper. Second, she needed cement. It was versatile, durable, and allowed for faster construction with fewer laborers. "Cement would make everything easier and quicker," she murmured to herself. "But even if I figure out how to make it, where would I find an architect in a place like this?" She pressed her fingers to her temples, thinking hard. Suddenly, an idea struck her like a flash of lightning. Her eyes lit up as she opened the system and began scrolling through its menus. "It has to be here somewhere..." she muttered. Her gaze landed on the familiar options under the Spend Reputation Points: Her focus settled on the Geographical Scan option. It was expensive, but it might be her best chance. The scan could potentially locate limestone deposits on the island, and limestone was a key ingredient for cement production. Ravenna leaned forward, a spark of hope reigniting her determination. "A desert near the ocean is one of the prime places to find limestone deposits," she muttered, recalling her time as a project manager for a construction company. One of her clients had been a contractor who often discussed the geological conditions needed for such resources. However, her optimism dimmed as reality set in. "These points won¡¯t be enough to scan the whole island," she realized, frowning. Jola Island was enormous, as vast as a small kingdom. The southern coastline was home to the only city, but the rest of the island remained an uncharted wilderness¡ªa sprawling desert that could take months to cross on horseback. With scorching heat, limited water, and scarce food, such an expedition was perilous at best. From the maps she had studied, Ravenna estimated the island''s total area to be around 65,000 square kilometers (roughly 25,000 square miles). To scan the entire island using the system, she would need 13,000 reputation points¡ªa far cry from the 9,000 she currently had. She tapped her fingers against the desk, deep in thought. "How do I earn more points quickly?" she wondered aloud. Ideas flitted through her mind, most of them impractical, until one thought stood out. Her eyes widened, and a slow grin spread across her face. "Of course! Why didn¡¯t I think of this sooner?" She shot to her feet, brimming with newfound energy. "Hughes!" she called out, her voice echoing through the halls. "Get my carriage ready immediately!" As the sound of hurried footsteps approached, Ravenna¡¯s mind raced with plans. She knew exactly how to rally the people and gain the points she needed. 12. New Regulations At Jola Central Square, The midday sun beat down mercilessly on the bustling Central Square, where life moved with a sense of newfound purpose. Workers labored under the scorching heat, constructing sturdy walls to fortify their homes and cultivating farmland enriched by seabed soil. The farming experiment had proven somewhat effective, and now, hope bloomed alongside the crops. Near the coastline, teams tirelessly purified seawater, ferrying barrels back and forth. Fishermen hauled in their daily catch with the help of eager volunteers, while others tended to the children, ensuring they learned valuable skills. In the midst of this organized chaos, the rhythmic clatter of hooves signaled the arrival of an imperial carriage. The sleek, jet-black vehicle advanced slowly, flanked by knights in gleaming armor. As it approached, a ripple of motion swept through the crowd. One by one, the people of Jola Island knelt, their expressions a mixture of gratitude and reverence. Even the Herptian priests, distinguishable by their flowing white robes, paused their efforts to care for the sick and the young, bowing deeply. Though the influence of the Herptian clergy had waned in the eastern continent, Jola Island remained a stronghold of their faith. Here, their presence endured as a legacy of the island¡¯s historical significance in the east. The carriage came to a halt, and Ravenna Solarius stepped out, her commanding presence radiating like the heat of the sun. Her jet-black hair framed her face like a curtain of shadow, and her sharp, discerning gaze swept over the kneeling populace. Clad in elegant attire befitting her status, she ascended the stage at the square¡¯s center with an air of practiced authority. ¡°The people of this island have remarkable manners,¡± she murmured, her lips curling into a faint smile as she observed the deference shown to her. Hughes, her loyal knight captain, stepped forward, his booming voice cutting through the murmurs of the crowd. ¡°Her Highness, Ravenna Solarius, has arrived! Gather around! Her Highness has an important announcement to make!¡± The message spread quickly. Those who were not already present hurried to the square, joining the gathering throng. Within minutes, the crowd swelled to several hundred, each person craning their neck to catch sight of their ruler. Among them was Sarah, rushing over from the distribution estate, where she had been managing records of food rations and job allocations. She had been summoned the moment Ravenna departed the castle, informed that the announcement would involve significant administrative changes. As the crowd settled, Ravenna stood motionless, surveying her people with a piercing gaze. After fifteen minutes of patient waiting, she reached into her robes and produced a single jasmine flower inscribed with faint magical runes. Crushing it between her fingers, she placed the remnants on a slender stick, amplifying her voice with its enchantment. ¡°My citizens!¡± she began, her voice booming across the square, commanding immediate silence. ¡°You know me as Princess Ravenna Solarius, Duchess of this land. In the past month, I have brought forth changes to this barren island¡ªfrom distributing food to initiating the soil extraction project for farming. But let me tell you this: what you have seen is not the end. It is only the beginning!¡± Her tone was laced with authority, firm yet strangely comforting. The people of Jola Island, accustomed to years of neglect and exploitation, found her words stirring a mix of trepidation and anticipation. Though Ravenna was known for her fiery temper and sharp tongue, her actions in the past month had proven transformative. Even her stern demeanor couldn¡¯t overshadow the tangible improvements she had brought to their lives.The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°I have held dominion over this island for a month now,¡± she continued, her voice resolute. ¡°Yet, I have not changed its administrative or military policy. That will change today!¡± Murmurs rippled through the crowd. For many, her words reignited painful memories of the oppressive taxes imposed by the previous nobles. Those taxes had driven countless families to ruin, their debts paid in blood or imprisonment. The thought of further reforms, however well-intentioned, filled them with dread. Sensing their unease, Ravenna raised her hand, silencing the whispers. Her expression remained calm, yet her next words struck like a hammer. ¡°Do not misunderstand me,¡± she declared. ¡°Just because I distributed free food and initiated farming projects does not mean I care for you peasants.¡± The crowd stiffened as her gaze swept over them, her voice sharp as steel. ¡°The only thing I care about,¡± she said, pausing for effect, ¡°is myself.¡± Her words landed heavily, and a wave of despair washed over the crowd. For a brief moment, the hope that had taken root in their hearts felt as though it might wither. Her words struck the crowd like a hammer blow, and a wave of despair rippled through the square. The hope that had cautiously taken root in their hearts trembled under the weight of her declaration. For a moment, it seemed as though the budding faith in their new ruler might wither entirely. But then Ravenna spoke again, her voice clear and resolute. ¡°It means that if a reform allows the people of this island to better care for me, then it shall be done! If protecting you ensures that you live another day to serve my needs, then you shall have my protection!¡± Her words echoed sharply, resonating in the ears of every listener, filling their minds with confusion. What was the princess getting at? Was she saying that as long as they were useful to her, she would safeguard them? Did she truly mean that her favor depended on their benefit to her? The crowd exchanged wary glances, the weight of her intentions unclear. Ravenna continued without hesitation, her tone commanding. ¡°With that in mind, I am announcing the centralization of power in Jola City!¡± She reached into her robes and produced an official-looking document, holding it high for all to see. The crowd leaned forward, straining to catch a glimpse of the title. Many could read it, thanks to the Herptian religion¡¯s emphasis on education, and their eyes widened in disbelief. ¡°In this system,¡± Ravenna declared, her voice unyielding, ¡°every single grain of food harvested, every product crafted, and every service provided by the people of this land will belong to the Dukedom. And the Dukedom,¡± she added, her gaze sharp and unyielding, ¡°is me.¡± A ripple of murmurs coursed through the crowd, their voices rising in alarm and disbelief. The idea was staggering: every resource, every piece of labor, and every form of commerce would now be under her control. Noticing the unrest, Ravenna¡¯s eyes narrowed. Her glare cut through the noise like a blade, silencing the growing commotion. ¡°Every citizen who works will receive a fair salary, calculated based on their skill, labor, and other evaluations specified in this document,¡± she announced firmly. ¡°There will be no privately owned businesses in the city. Every shop, every trade, every store that sells goods will belong to the Dukedom. And the Dukedom,¡± she repeated with finality, ¡°is me.¡± The weight of her proclamation settled over the square like a thick fog. Many in the crowd struggled to process what they had just heard. For generations, some families had thrived on small trading businesses, even if those ventures had withered totally by now. Now, Ravenna was proposing to abolish private enterprise altogether, placing everything under her direct authority. ¡°The details of this reformed governance,¡± Ravenna continued, raising the document higher, ¡°are outlined here. Copies will be distributed to every household in the coming days. Read it. Understand it. Know that this system will rebuild the island and secure its future!¡± Her tone shifted then, growing sharper and more confrontational. She scanned the crowd, her sharp gaze daring anyone to challenge her. ¡°Now, to those who might oppose me,¡± she said, her voice cutting through the stillness like a whip. ¡°To those who think I don¡¯t deserve to own everything on this island, I ask you this: Do you truly believe you can fix this land without my leadership? Do you think your petty squabbles and fragmented efforts could accomplish what I have done?¡± Her voice grew louder, a challenge that hung heavily in the air. ¡°If you dare to think otherwise, step forward now! Show yourselves, if you have the courage!¡± Her final words rang out like a commandment, leaving the square in charged silence. The people exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to respond. The weight of her authority pressed down on them, daring anyone to rise against it. 13. Herptian Church As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, bathing the sky in hues of amber and crimson, Ravenna¡¯s imperial carriage rolled steadily along the weathered road. Inside the luxurious carriage, Ravenna leaned back against the plush velvet cushions, a sly smile playing on her lips. Occasionally, she broke into soft, almost maniacal giggles, her amusement spilling out unchecked. To any observer, she might have appeared as unhinged as she was brilliant¡ªa woman basking in the chaos she had orchestrated. An outsider, particularly a seasoned strategist, would undoubtedly call her recent actions bold, reckless even. The announcement she had made at the square earlier was too controversial, too inflammatory to be delivered with such dramatic flair. But that was precisely the point. Ravenna reveled in the uproar it would cause, knowing full well it would ignite discussions across the island. Whispers of her unpredictability and ruthlessness would spread like wildfire, cementing her reputation as an authoritarian force to be reckoned with. And for Ravenna, her reputation was a resource as vital as any. ¡°I am such a genius!¡± she thought to herself, staring out of the carriage window at the shifting sands beyond. The gusting winds had begun to die down, their rhythm matching her growing sense of satisfaction. The reason for centralizing power was simple yet profound: control. Total control over the Island¡¯s economy. Ravenna¡¯s strength rested on her reputation, a currency she intended to wield with precision. By consolidating power, she could craft a persona of absolute authority, an image that would ripple across the empire once Jola reestablished contact with other territories. The reputation of a tyrant would spread among the nobility, further bolstering her image as an indomitable leader. Every tale of her ruthlessness would only add to her power. The implementation of this new governance system, however, had not been an impulsive decision. Ravenna had spent the past month meticulously drafting it, poring over every detail to ensure it adhered to the Ancorna Empire¡¯s laws. While the empire granted its nobles substantial autonomy within their domains, there were still overarching legal frameworks to follow. Every clause, every line of her reforms had been carefully crafted to remain within the bounds of imperial law, all while giving her absolute control over Jola. She was confident that her people, beaten down by years of neglect and hardship, would not resist her. They weren¡¯t entitled nobles with armies at their disposal; they were ordinary citizens who had been left to rot under the previous regime. These people had gone hungry for months before her arrival, and now they had food, work, and a glimmer of hope for the future. They might grumble and complain in private, but protests or riots? Highly unlikely. It was, after all, a stroke of fortune that Jola¡¯s population was so small and its nobility nonexistent. With no powerful opposition to challenge her, Ravenna had a clear path to establish her rule unimpeded. As the carriage rumbled forward, its wheels crunching against the sandy road, its destination came into view: The Herptian Church. Unlike the lord¡¯s castle, this was no crumbling relic of Jola¡¯s decayed glory. The church was one of the few enduring symbols of the island¡¯s once-flourishing past¡ªa beacon of faith in an otherwise desolate land. The grand cathedral rose from the desert sands like a monolith, its sandstone walls catching the last rays of sunlight and glowing with a golden hue. The intricate carvings along its facade spoke of a time when Jola had been a bustling trade hub, not the isolated and decrepit island it had become. At the center of the structure stood a towering statue of the Herptian goddess, her features serene yet commanding. Every line and curve of the statue was a masterpiece, etched with devotion by the artisans of a bygone era.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Ravenna¡¯s carriage came to a stop before the church¡¯s massive arched doors. The air was thick with reverence and history. She stepped out of the carriage, her jet-black hair flowing like a shadow behind her, and gazed up at the towering edifice. A glint of calculated ambition flickered in her eyes. The Herptian Church might still hold sway over the people of Jola, but soon enough, even this bastion of faith would bend to her will to make her more reputation points. A glint of calculated ambition flickered in Ravenna''s eyes as she gazed at the towering structure of the Herptian Church. The institution still held considerable influence over the people of Jola, but in her mind, it was yet another piece on the chessboard. Soon, even this bastion of faith would bend to her will, adding yet more points to her growing reputation. The grand double doors of the church creaked open as Ravenna entered, her steps echoing against the polished stone floor. The head priest, flanked by a few junior priests, stood waiting for her near the entrance. His robes were simple but immaculately clean, a testament to the care and reverence still present within the fading faith. As she approached, the head priest bowed deeply, his demeanor calm and respectful. ¡°Welcome, Your Highness,¡± the man said, his voice steady yet warm. ¡°I am Head Priest James Eric. May the goddess watch over you and guide your path.¡± Ravenna gave a curt nod, her eyes scanning the surroundings with casual interest before resting on James. ¡°I would like to speak with you privately, Head Priest James,¡± she said, her tone commanding but not harsh. The old man smiled, a soft and genuine expression that contrasted with the sharp edge in her voice. ¡°Of course, Your Highness,¡± he replied, meeting her gaze without hesitation. His calm composure was unshaken by her authoritative presence, a trait that piqued her curiosity. James led her deeper into the church, past rows of pews and toward the base of the towering statue of the goddess Herptian. The figure was a striking depiction of serene beauty, her features exuding an almost hypnotic allure. If Solious, the goddess of the dominant faith in the Ancorna Empire, represented elegant virtue and radiant purity, Herptian was her more enigmatic counterpart¡ªa symbol of sedative beauty paired with quiet wisdom. The statue¡¯s intricate craftsmanship was mesmerizing, its every curve and detail a testament to the artisans from the island¡¯s history. They passed through a discreet door behind the statue, entering a modest yet serene chamber furnished with simple wooden furniture. James gestured for Ravenna to sit, taking his place opposite her at a small table. A faint aroma of stew filled the room as he set a bowl before her, a humble offering from the church''s sparse kitchen. ¡°This is all we have on the island, Your Highness,¡± James said with a polite smile. Ravenna glanced at the bowl, its contents a thin broth with a few chunks of root vegetables and herbs floating within. She waved it off. ¡°I¡¯ve already eaten,¡± she replied, her tone dismissive but not unkind. Then, her sharp eyes locked onto his. James met her gaze without flinching, his calm demeanor unshaken by the authoritative pressure she exuded. There was a quiet strength in his presence, an unwavering conviction that even Ravenna found mildly intriguing. ¡°Do you intend to have the Herptian faith removed from this island?¡± James asked, his voice even but laced with genuine curiosity. It was a reasonable question, and Ravenna knew it. The Solious faith, the dominant religion of the Ancorna Empire, was rising across the continent while the Herptian faith dwindled. As a member of the imperial family and a direct descendant of Solious¡¯s chosen lineage, it would make sense for her to align with the dominant religion, especially given her precarious position in the imperial court following her exile. But Ravenna had no intention of following predictable paths. ¡°Not at all, Your Holiness,¡± she said, leaning back slightly in her chair. A faint smirk curved her lips, the expression of someone weaving a careful plan. ¡°In fact, I want the Herptian faith to stay. No, not just stay¡ªI want it to thrive, to grow stronger than ever before.¡± Her words hung in the air, their weight palpable. James studied her carefully, the flicker of a question in his eyes. ¡°And why,¡± he asked, his voice measured, ¡°would the imperial princess of Solious¡¯s lineage wish to strengthen a fading faith, particularly one so far removed from the empire¡¯s favor?¡± 14. Ravenna鈥檚 Hidden Agenda Her words hung in the air, their weight palpable. James studied her carefully, the flicker of a question in his eyes. ¡°And why,¡± he asked, his voice measured, ¡°would the imperial princess of Solious¡¯s lineage wish to strengthen a fading faith, particularly one so far removed from the empire¡¯s favor?¡± Ravenna leaned forward, her expression sharp and deliberate. ¡°Because this island belongs to me,¡± she said, her voice steady. Then, with a faint smile, she added, ¡°And by extension, so does this church.¡± James chuckled softly, his laugh a mix of amusement and disbelief. ¡°Such greed, child. It¡¯s not good for the soul.¡± He paused, his gaze momentarily dropping to the table. When he looked up again, there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, a quiet resignation. ¡°Fine,¡± he said at last. ¡°I can accept that answer, for now.¡± Reaching into his robes, he retrieved a folded document and placed it on the table between them. The parchment was creased but impeccably clean, the ink bold and authoritative. He slid it toward her with a calm but questioning look. ¡°But perhaps you¡¯d care to explain this, Your Highness?¡± Ravenna¡¯s gaze dropped to the document. It was a copy of her decree, an official announcement centralizing power within her dukedom. The words on the page detailed a sweeping policy: the consolidation of all businesses under direct oversight, including those associated with religious institutions. James tapped the document lightly with his finger. ¡°From what I understand,¡± he began, his tone neutral, ¡°you intend to control every single business in your territory. I can see the logic in ruling with an iron fist. However...¡± Before he could finish, Ravenna interjected smoothly, ¡°Donations are classified as businesses. As such, the donations made here will now be sent to the city¡¯s treasury.¡± The head priest gave a slow nod, his expression thoughtful but not entirely pleased. ¡°And that,¡± he said, ¡°is precisely the issue, Your Highness. Yes, it¡¯s true that our donations have been sparse these past months¡ªalmost nonexistent, in fact. But to take what little remains is to strip us of our means to fund our operations. By doing so, you reduce faith to mere commerce.¡± He looked at her pointedly, his voice carrying a rare edge. ¡°Freedom of faith is an integral part of the Ancorna Empire¡¯s imperial constitution.¡± Ravenna met his gaze without flinching, a sharp smile playing at her lips. She tapped the document lightly with a gloved finger. ¡°And freedom of faith,¡± she said firmly, ¡°is being upheld here in Jola.¡± She pointed to a specific clause in the decree, her tone confident. ¡°As you can see, only the business aspects of the church fall under this policy. Donations, after all, are not purely acts of faith¡ªthey are transactions, voluntary though they may be. This part of the faith, whether anyone admits it or not, is business.¡± James raised a skeptical brow, but before he could respond, Ravenna continued. ¡°To ensure the church¡¯s continued operations, the state will provide funding. Allocations will be made each year based on your proposed budgets and operational needs. This way, the church will not only survive but will have the means to undertake grander projects, even if private donations remain insufficient. Wouldn¡¯t you agree that this is a fair compromise?¡± The head priest sat in silence for a moment, weighing her words. At last, he offered a faint smile. ¡°That does seem reasonable, at least for now. But given the look in your eyes and the meticulous way you¡¯re managing this city, I suspect your ambitions extend far beyond the present.¡±The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there. Ravenna didn¡¯t flinch under his scrutiny. ¡°The policy will remain unchanged,¡± she said simply, her voice devoid of elaboration. James studied her for a moment longer before shaking his head, a quiet chuckle escaping him. ¡°May the goddess bless your greedy heart, Your Highness,¡± he said, his tone laced with irony. Rising to his feet, he adjusted his robes. ¡°Very well. I¡¯ll ensure the church is restructured to comply with your new laws.¡± His declaration was calm but resolute, a clear acknowledgment of the shifting tides. ¡°We are staying,¡± he added firmly. Ravenna crossed one leg over the other and leaned back, a small, satisfied smile gracing her lips. ¡°That¡¯s good to hear,¡± she said, her tone as smooth as silk. With her business at the Herptian Church concluded, Ravenna stepped out into the golden afternoon light. The towering spires of the church cast long shadows across the cobblestone streets as she descended the stairs with deliberate grace. Her imperial carriage awaited, its polished surface gleaming in the sun, the royal crest embossed proudly on its doors. The coachman opened the door with a bow, and she climbed inside, her silken dress whispering against the cushioned seats. As the carriage began its journey back to the lord¡¯s castle, the rhythmic clatter of hooves on stone was accompanied by a sound entirely incongruous with her composed demeanor¡ªRavenna¡¯s soft giggles. Her laughter bubbled up, darkly triumphant, as she reflected on the twofold purpose of her visit to the Herptian Church. First, the church represented the only power base in Jola that could potentially oppose her. With no other nobles present on this isolated island, the priests wielded a unique influence over the people¡¯s hearts and minds. Securing their loyalty, or at least ensuring their compliance, was a critical step in consolidating her control. The second reason, however, was far more practical. Herptian priests, unlike many of their counterparts in the Solious faith, were rigorously trained in architectural principles. It was a tradition born of necessity: priests were expected to build churches in any new territory where their faith was spread, often with limited resources and no external assistance. This core training meant that the clergy of Herptian faith were not just spiritual leaders¡ªthey were master architects. Now, with the church firmly under her thumb, Ravenna had access to their invaluable expertise. These priests would design and oversee the construction of projects she had long envisioned, from fortifications to buildings. Additionally, the church¡¯s influence over the people would be a powerful tool to bolster her reputation. Leaning back against the plush carriage seat, she allowed herself a rare moment of satisfaction. ¡°Checkmate,¡± she murmured under her breath, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. As the carriage rumbled through the city streets, Ravenna summoned the interface of her reputation system, her fingers moving through the air as though scrolling through an invisible ledger. The glowing, translucent panel sprang to life before her eyes. [Reputation System v0.1] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (6067/8200) Current Reputation Points: 16,987 Titles: Raven of Sun Palace, Unruly Princess {View Reputation Log} {Spend Reputation Points} Her eyes scanned the details with satisfaction. The day¡¯s efforts had not been in vain¡ªher reputation had surged, just as she¡¯d planned. A low chuckle escaped her as she tapped on the log to review the breakdown of her recent gains. Every move, every conversation, had been calculated to extract the maximum benefit. Finally, her gaze settled on an option that had taunted her. Geographical Scan. Her lips curled into a grin, and a manic gleam lit her eyes. ¡°I finally have enough points for the Geographical Scan,¡± she whispered, her voice brimming with uncontained glee. Then, unable to hold back, she let out a laugh¡ªwild and unrestrained, echoing within the confines of the carriage. With this, her plans could advance to the next phase. The scan would reveal the untapped potential of Jola¡¯s lands, uncovering resources and strategic opportunities she could exploit. It was the key to turning the isolated island into a thriving city. 15. Eugene鈥檚 Failure Herptian Church, Moments After Ravenna¡¯s Departure, James leaned back heavily against his chair, releasing a long, shuddering sigh. His hands were trembling, betraying the tension he had held throughout the meeting. The memory of Ravenna¡¯s piercing gaze lingered in his mind, a stark reminder of the sheer authority the young duchess wielded. ¡°How does someone so young carry herself like a high pope or a battle-hardened duke?¡± he muttered to himself. The room, once filled with the quiet reverence of clergy, now felt almost suffocating in her absence. The title of ¡°Unruly Princess¡± wasn¡¯t just a baseless moniker, James realized. She had more than earned it. He had struggled to maintain his composure during their conversation, and now, away from her intimidating presence, the strain was all too apparent. Gathering his thoughts, he called for a junior priest. ¡°Bring me a letter kit,¡± he instructed, his voice steady but low. ¡°I need to write to the headquarters in the Western Continent. Inform them that the Herptian Church will not be withdrawing from the Eastern Continent.¡± The young priest¡¯s face brightened at the news, and he hurried to fulfill the request. Many of the junior priests had lived their entire lives in Jola, dedicating themselves to spreading the Herptian faith despite dwindling support. The possibility of retreating had felt like a personal defeat. But now, Ravenna¡¯s intervention had reignited their hope. When the items arrived, James carefully drafted the letter, summarizing the meeting with the princess and emphasizing her promises of funding and structural support for the church. Satisfied, he sealed the letter using a ceremonial process unique to the Herptian faith. He gathered petals of tiger lilies and white lilies, tying them together to form a floral seal. Then, burning a single rose petal over the letter, he invoked the encryption spell. The parchment ignited in an ethereal blue flame and vanished into thin air¡ªa secure method of communication used only for messages of the utmost importance. James leaned back, exhaling again, this time with a small smile. ¡°A new era begins for the Herptian Church in Jola,¡± he said quietly, his words a solemn promise to himself and his faith. Imperial Capital of the Ancorna Empire ¨C The Underground Black Market, Slave Auction, The stage of the auction house was a scene of carnage. Bodies lay sprawled in grotesque stillness¡ªeach victim bearing a single, precise wound. Some had been felled by a sword, others charred by fire, but all shared the same fate: they had been overwhelmed without a chance to resist. The once-rowdy atmosphere of the auction had dissolved into chaos. Nobles and patrons scrambled over one another in their desperation to flee, their elegant garments torn in their panic. The opulent seats of the auction hall, once filled with influential figures, were now abandoned or overturned, their occupants more concerned with preserving their reputations than their possessions. Backstage, two men worked swiftly amidst the cages and chains that had imprisoned countless souls. Eugene and Prince William moved with deadly efficiency, freeing the slaves and dismantling the infrastructure of the operation. Most of the captives had already fled, but one figure remained¡ªa wounded member of the slave-trading ring, writhing on the floor under their interrogation. Eugene stepped closer, pulling back his hood to reveal his golden hair, which gleamed like molten light under the dim illumination of the blood moon flower lamps. Prince William did the same, his sharp features and piercing gaze radiating authority. Eugene held up a rough sketch, its lines betraying the urgency with which it had been drawn. It depicted a young woman, her face etched with a blend of serenity and power¡ªthe saintess from Eugene¡¯s past life. ¡°This is your only chance,¡± Eugene said, his voice cold and unyielding. ¡°Where is she? The saintess was supposed to be auctioned here tonight!¡± The slave trader coughed weakly, clutching his stomach where William¡¯s fire spell had left a searing wound. ¡°I-I don¡¯t know!¡± he stammered, his voice thick with pain. ¡°She... she was with one of the slaves we pre-sold! Some men in white cloaks¡ªthey paid a fortune and took her just an hour before the auction!¡±You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. William¡¯s expression darkened. ¡°It seems we¡¯ve hit a dead end, Eugene,¡± he said grimly. ¡°Someone else has already taken the saintess.¡± Eugene¡¯s face twisted with frustration, his usual composure cracking under the weight of his desperation. Without warning, he drew his sword and slashed at the trader¡¯s leg, eliciting a bloodcurdling scream. ¡°Who were they?¡± Eugene demanded, his voice a dangerous growl. ¡°Where did they go? Answer me!¡± ¡°Eugene, stop!¡± William intervened, grabbing his companion¡¯s arm and pulling him back. ¡°We need him alive. He¡¯s the only one who can testify to our actions here. Killing him won¡¯t bring us praise from the imperial court!¡± Meanwhile on Jola Island, As the sun dipped below the horizon, its last golden rays illuminated the rugged coastline of Jola Island. The air, thick with the scent of salt and sand, seemed to carry the murmurs of a restless populace.. A modest bar stood as a gathering point. Once a lively establishment frequented by peasants during the nobility''s reign, it now served as a place for heated debates and quiet commiseration. The bar was a shadow of its former self. With water scarce and alcohol a distant memory, the cracked wooden tables and dim lanterns bore silent witness to the struggles of its patrons. Still, the citizens gathered here, driven by the need to vent their frustrations, share news, and today, speculate about the sweeping changes introduced by their ruler, Princess Ravenna. ¡°This is madness! Pure insanity!¡± A bald man slammed his fist onto the table, his voice echoing through the otherwise subdued room. His sunburnt skin glistened with sweat, and his eyes darted around as if searching for allies in his outrage. ¡°She wants to own everything! Every single business, every field, every trade! And what does she offer in return? Salaries? Barely enough to survive!¡± A man across from him, his face etched with deep wrinkles and a lifetime of hardship, raised a hand to quiet him. ¡°Keep your voice down,¡± the older man muttered, his tone a mix of caution and exasperation. ¡°Even if that¡¯s true, it¡¯s not like you¡¯ve been making a fortune. You barely scrape by as it is. You¡¯re feeding your children thanks to her highness¡¯s food distribution system.¡± ¡°Read the proclamation again!¡± the bald man snapped, waving a crumpled paper in his hand as if it were evidence in a courtroom. He cleared his throat and began to recite the text, his voice laced with disdain: Ownership and Business Model Salaries and Profits ¡°You see?¡± he said, jabbing a finger at the text. ¡°She¡¯ll control everything! We¡¯ll own nothing and be at her mercy!¡± A woman with long, unkempt hair spoke up from a nearby table. Her voice was calm, but her eyes burned with quiet conviction. ¡°And what¡¯s wrong with that? Look around you. There isn¡¯t a single thriving business on this island. Half of us would be dead from hunger if not for her food program. She¡¯s going to pay us salaries even when nothing¡¯s making money. Isn¡¯t that better than starving?¡± The bald man turned to her, his face reddening with anger. ¡°Maybe now it seems fine, but what about later? When the crops grow, won¡¯t this system rob us of profits? This is authoritarianism, plain and simple!¡± The woman crossed her arms, unfazed. ¡°Authoritarian or not, those crops you¡¯re talking about wouldn¡¯t exist without her investment. She¡¯s the one funding the irrigation projects, importing seeds, and training us on new farming methods. Are you suggesting you¡¯d rather take her efforts for granted and pocket the profits for yourself?¡± The older man nodded in agreement. ¡°She¡¯s building something out of nothing here. Jola¡¯s been a wasteland for years. If this system gives us even a chance to rebuild, I say it¡¯s worth it.¡± The argument rippled through the room, drawing more voices into the fray. Some defended Ravenna¡¯s policies, citing the immediate relief they brought to the struggling island. Others decried them as oppressive and shortsighted, worried about the long-term implications. The debates grew heated, with chairs scraping against the floor and fists pounding on tables. Yet, for all the anger and frustration, no one spoke of rebellion or protest. Their words were heavy with discontent, but beneath them lay an unspoken acknowledgment: Ravenna was their best¡ªand perhaps only¡ªhope for survival. As the night deepened, the bar settled into a tense quiet. The citizens drifted back to their homes, their arguments unresolved but their spirits oddly steadied. The stars above Jola Island shone brightly, indifferent to the struggles below, as the people braced themselves for the uncertain future Ravenna¡¯s reforms promised to bring. 16. Resources On Jola Island As the sun rose over the city of Jola on the island that bore its name, golden light streamed through the tall windows of the royal study. Ravenna sat at her desk, dressed in an elegant gown that, while far from modest, conveyed an air of both authority and sophistication. Her sharp eyes were fixed on the detailed results of the geological scan she had accessed through her reputation system. The scan presented a three-dimensional visualization of Jola and its surroundings, revealing untapped resources, hidden pathways, and even the locations of key individuals. Ravenna knew that once she closed the scan panel, she would lose access to this invaluable information unless she spent more points to reopen it. Determined to make the most of this opportunity, she diligently marked every critical detail onto a large map of Jola. The room was silent save for the scratch of her pen as she worked swiftly yet meticulously. After half an hour of focused effort, a soft knock on the door broke her concentration. ¡°It¡¯s Alice, Your Highness!¡± called a familiar voice from the hallway. Ravenna¡¯s expression softened, and a rare smile graced her lips. ¡°Come in, Alice!¡± The door opened to reveal Alice Gatve, Ravenna¡¯s childhood friend and trusted accountant maid. Alice had been on maternity leave for the past few months, a leave Ravenna had personally insisted upon. Now, two months after giving birth, Alice had returned to her duties. She stepped into the room, wearing her customary maid¡¯s uniform¡ªslightly modified for Jola¡¯s sweltering climate. The breathable fabric and open design allowed for better comfort in the heat, a practical adjustment Ravenna had ensured for all her staff. Alice¡¯s brown hair was neatly combed, and her glasses framed her sparkling eyes, reflecting her joy at reuniting with Ravenna. Her demeanor, refined and poised, hinted at the influence of growing up alongside Ravenna in the palace, though Alice was not of noble birth she carried herself as one. The intimidating aura that usually accompanied Ravenna seemed to dissipate in Alice¡¯s presence, a testament to the bond they shared. ¡°It¡¯s wonderful to see you again, Your Highness!¡± Alice exclaimed, her voice filled with warmth. Without hesitation, she crossed the room and embraced Ravenna tightly. Ravenna, who was known for her fiery temper and formidable presence, returned the hug with a gentle smile. If anyone else had witnessed the scene, they might have thought their eyes were deceiving them. Such displays of affection from Ravenna were rare, but with Alice, it felt natural. ¡°It¡¯s good to have you back, Alice,¡± Ravenna said as she stepped back, motioning for Alice to sit. ¡°How is Mina? I¡¯ve heard she¡¯s in excellent health.¡± Alice beamed at the mention of her daughter. ¡°She¡¯s absolutely adorable! When she holds my hand while she sleeps, it¡¯s almost too much for my heart to handle. And Hughes¡ªhe can¡¯t wait to see her every evening after his duties. She¡¯s the light of his day.¡±If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Ravenna¡¯s smile widened. ¡°I¡¯ll have to visit her sometime. I¡¯d love to see her.¡± Alice hesitated for a moment, her smile faltering slightly. ¡°Y-yes, that would be wonderful, Your Highness,¡± she replied, though her voice carried a hint of unease. Ravenna noticed immediately. She understood Alice¡¯s hesitation¡ªbringing a princess into the modest home of a commoner, especially in a city like Jola where most buildings were in disrepair, could be overwhelming. Ravenna made a mental note to address the housing conditions in the city sooner rather than later. Changing the subject, Alice straightened in her chair and placed a neatly bound stack of account books on the desk. ¡°Well then, shall we begin?¡± she asked with a professional smile. ¡°Let¡¯s begin,¡± Ravenna said, leaning forward. The room fell silent as Alice delved into the books and documents Ravenna had prepared. Half an hour passed, and Alice''s usually calm demeanor cracked. She looked up sharply, her brow furrowed in frustration. ¡°What the hell were you thinking, Ravenna?! We barely have enough money to pay the volunteers who are helping with food distribution, yet you decided to implement an entirely new administrative and economic system?!¡± Anyone else speaking to Ravenna like this would surely have met a fiery end, but Alice was one of the few who could get away with such bluntness. Her unique relationship with the princess, forged through years of friendship, gave her a rare immunity to Ravenna''s wrath. Ravenna met Alice¡¯s incredulous gaze with a defiant smirk. ¡°I wanted the island for myself,¡± she declared, her voice unwavering, though her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. Alice sighed heavily. She knew Ravenna¡¯s ambitions all too well. The princess had always been headstrong, used to getting her way ever since they were children. While Ravenna often treated Alice like an older sister, it didn¡¯t change the fact that she was still royalty¡ªand royalty rarely took no for an answer. ¡°Fine,¡± Alice relented, adjusting her glasses as she tried to compose herself. ¡°So how exactly do you plan for us to sustain ourselves? What¡¯s the endgame with this new economic model?¡± Before Ravenna could answer, a soft knock interrupted them. ¡°Y-your Highness, it¡¯s Sarah, Richard, and High Priest James,¡± Hughes¡¯ voice called from the other side of the door. Ravenna¡¯s lips curled into a pleased smile. ¡°Perfect timing,¡± she said. ¡°Let them in.¡± The door opened, and three figures entered the room. Each took a seat opposite Ravenna. Alice observed them closely, her analytical mind already assessing their roles. ¡°Allow me to introduce everyone,¡± Ravenna began, gesturing towards a young woman with an air of efficiency about her. ¡°Alice, this is Sarah. She¡¯s been managing the accounts for the food distribution efforts and maintaining detailed population databases.¡± Alice nodded, offering Sarah a polite smile. ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you. I¡¯ve heard good things about your work. Keeping this city running is no small feat.¡± ¡°Thank you,¡± Sarah replied, her voice steady yet humble. Next, Ravenna gestured towards the older man seated beside Sarah. ¡°And this is Richard, the fisherman, our temporary logistics coordinator. He¡¯s been overseeing resource allocation and ensuring supplies are distributed efficiently.¡± Richard gave a slight bow. ¡°An honor to meet you,¡± he said simply. Finally, the High Priest stepped forward, his robes pristine and his demeanor calm. ¡°And I, of course, am James,¡± he said, his voice smooth and measured. ¡°So, Your Highness, what might be the reason for this gathering?¡± Ravenna¡¯s smile deepened as she reached for the map of Jola she had been working on earlier. She unfurled it on the table, the markings she had painstakingly added standing out in bold strokes. ¡°To discuss the untapped resources of the island,¡± she said, her tone brimming with confidence. 17. Reason for Fish鈥檚 Disappearance Ravenna gestured towards the older man seated beside Sarah. ¡°And this is Richard, the fisherman, our temporary logistics coordinator. He¡¯s been overseeing resource allocation and ensuring supplies are distributed efficiently.¡± Richard gave a slight bow. ¡°An honor to meet you,¡± he said simply. Finally, the High Priest stepped forward, his robes pristine and his demeanor calm. ¡°And I, of course, am James,¡± he said, his voice smooth and measured. ¡°So, Your Highness, what might be the reason for this gathering?¡± Ravenna¡¯s smile deepened as she reached for the map of Jola she had been working on earlier. She unfurled it on the table, the markings she had painstakingly added standing out in bold strokes. ¡°To discuss the untapped resources of the island,¡± Ravenna declared, her voice steady and brimming with confidence. The room''s occupants leaned in, their interest piqued as Ravenna gestured toward the large map spread across the table. Her finger hovered over the westward region from the city, where she had marked several points of interest. ¡°These resources,¡± she began, ¡°were identified during my time at the palace. I cross-referenced the locations with imperial reports.¡± This, of course, was a calculated lie. The information had come from her geological scan, but revealing the truth would only raise questions she wasn¡¯t prepared to answer. Pointing to a marked area, she continued, ¡°There is a layered rock formation here that caught my attention.¡± Richard the fisherman, the logistics coordinator, adjusted his seating and spoke. ¡°Yes, Your Highness. That region is known for its caves. Local legends say those formations were used as campsites by our ancestors.¡± Ravenna turned to him, her gaze sharp and unwavering. ¡°Good. I want Hughes to organize a team of prisoners from the castle dungeon, with John leading them, to extract limestone from those caves. Use Richard¡¯s fishing boats to transport them to the site swiftly.¡± The room grew quiet for a moment, the weight of her words settling on everyone present. Jola Island had a fair number of criminals languishing in the castle dungeon, their incarceration a result of the rising crime rates during the island¡¯s recent food shortages. Using them as labor for the island¡¯s development was a logical¡ªif ruthless¡ªchoice. ¡°Limestone?¡± Priest James muttered, his brow furrowed in thought. ¡°Your Highness, are you planning to build something? Is that why you¡¯ve called for me?¡± Ravenna¡¯s lips curled into a subtle smile. ¡°Indeed,¡± she replied. The so-called layered rock formation she spoke of was rich in limestone, a key ingredient in producing cement. In this world, as in medieval Europe on Earth, limestone combined with clay was used to construct large and sturdy structures. While such methods yielded impressive results, they were painfully slow. Cement, however, would revolutionize construction times and allow for rapid development¡ªa necessity for Ravenna¡¯s grand plans.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°I see,¡± James said, nodding slowly as understanding dawned on him. Ravenna turned her attention to Hughes, who stood dutifully by the door, his posture rigid under her commanding gaze. ¡°Make it happen, Hughes. I want John informed immediately after this meeting.¡± Hughes stiffened, swallowing hard before nodding. ¡°I¡¯ll ensure it¡¯s done, Your Highness. John will receive his orders without delay.¡± Priest James, ever the experienced diplomat, offered a polite smile. ¡°So, Your Highness, do you wish for me to oversee the construction plans? I understand that you¡¯re aiming to create something grand, worthy of your reputation. However, with the current manpower and limited resources available in the city, it might be¡ª¡± Ravenna¡¯s icy glare cut him off mid-sentence, her commanding presence leaving no room for further protest. ¡°Here,¡± she said curtly, sliding a set of detailed designs across the table toward him. ¡°These are the plans I need your input on.¡± She paused, her gaze piercing. ¡°I will provide the full details once we conclude this meeting. Next!¡± Without waiting for a response, Ravenna shifted her attention to the map, her finger tracing along the city¡¯s coastline. ¡°I want workers assigned to construct a proper dock here,¡± she instructed, pointing to the dilapidated area currently serving as the city''s makeshift harbor. ¡°The current one is barely functional and an embarrassment. The design concepts are in the book I gave you earlier, Your Holiness.¡± Sarah, who had been quietly taking notes, nodded with a determined expression. ¡°Understood, Your Highness. I will organize a portion of the unemployed workforce to begin preparations immediately.¡± Ravenna¡¯s focus shifted again, this time landing on Hughes. ¡°Hughes,¡± she began, her tone sharp and unyielding, ¡°I want a new militant group formed specifically to patrol the city and reduce the rampant crime and violence. The knights are doing their best, but with only 300 of them, it¡¯s nowhere near enough.¡± She glanced at Sarah. ¡°Provide Hughes with a list of suitable candidates from the civilian population. Have them trained under one of our experienced soldiers. This task needs to be expedited.¡± Hughes nodded once more, his posture rigid. ¡°It will be done, Your Highness.¡± Throughout this flurry of directives, Alice remained silent, her sharp eyes observing every exchange. Though she said nothing, her expression suggested she harbored concerns about the rapid succession of Ravenna¡¯s orders. Finally, Ravenna turned her attention to Richard, her expression softening into a disarming smile that sent a chill down his spine. ¡°Richard,¡± she began, her voice taking on a dangerously confident edge, ¡°I believe I¡¯ve uncovered the reason for the decline in fish stocks over the past few months.¡± Richard¡¯s eyes widened in surprise. Even Sarah, who had maintained her composure thus far, leaned forward with eager anticipation, while James furrowed his brow in quiet curiosity. This issue had been one of the most significant contributors to the island¡¯s ongoing food shortage, and any insight into its resolution was critical. Ravenna¡¯s finger moved to the northern coastline of the island, and her devilishly beautiful smile deepened. ¡°It¡¯s because of the recently spawned dungeon near the northern coast,¡± she declared, her tone calm yet laced with authority. The room fell silent as the weight of her revelation sank in. A dungeon¡ªone of the most dangerous and unpredictable phenomena in the world. 18. Dungeon In the world of Light¡¯s Conquest, dungeons are a natural yet perilous phenomenon, manifesting under extraordinary circumstances. These structures form when genetically distinct flower species crossbreed naturally for survival or environmental adaptation. This rare event generates an immense burst of mana energy, creating a dungeon. The magnitude of energy released determines the dungeon¡¯s complexity, including the number of floors it contains. Within these dungeons, the abundant mana spawns monstrous entities known as magical beasts, posing a significant threat to the surrounding regions. ¡°A... a dungeon?¡± Richard stammered, his voice trembling with disbelief. The tension in the room thickened as all eyes turned to Ravenna. Priest James leaned forward, his usually composed demeanor now tinged with alarm. ¡°A dungeon, Your Highness? Is this true?¡± Ravenna¡¯s lips curled into a confident smile as she answered, her voice steady and authoritative. ¡°Yes, six months ago, a two-floor dungeon manifested beneath the northern coastal waters of this island.¡± She paused for effect, letting the gravity of her statement settle in before continuing. ¡°The dungeon spawns Mira and Maverick Fish¡ªboth classified as magical beasts.¡± The room fell into stunned silence. Richard, Sarah, Alice, Hughes, and James stared at Ravenna, their expressions a mix of shock and apprehension. The revelation explained the mysterious decline in fish stocks but also raised fears. In this world, dungeons were among the most feared phenomena, responsible for more than half of all recorded deaths on the Eastern Continent. Magical beasts that emerged from dungeons often wreaked havoc on nearby populations, leading to widespread destruction and loss of life. The very mention of a dungeon was enough to send cities into a state of emergency, with evacuations quickly organized. However, as Ravenna elaborated, the specific circumstances of this dungeon offered a sliver of hope amidst the danger. ¡°you don¡¯t have to worry, This dungeon,¡± Ravenna explained, ¡°is an underwater formation, a type not uncommon in the vast oceans. These underwater dungeons are theorized by mage tower to occur more frequently than their land-based counterparts due to the ocean¡¯s highly complex and evolving ecosystem. The continuous interbreeding of plant species in the deep sea likely results in the frequent emergence of dungeons.¡± James, ever the scholar, nodded thoughtfully. ¡°That would align with mage theories regarding the ocean¡¯s capacity to host sophisticated ecosystems. A higher frequency of genetic crossbreeding would naturally lead to more mana bursts.¡± Richard¡¯s voice broke through the contemplative silence. ¡°So¡­ the fish are gone because of this dungeon?¡± he asked, still grappling with the implications. Ravenna smirked, her commanding presence asserting itself once more. ¡°Precisely. For generations, the fish that migrated from the northern waters were caught by our fishermen along Jola City¡¯s southern coastline. But now¡­¡± She gestured to the map, tracing the migration route with her finger. ¡°The Mira and Maverick magical beast fish spawned by the dungeon have been devouring the migrating schools of fish. As a result, our fishermen are left with only scraps of what once was a plentiful bounty.¡± Her explanation painted a vivid picture of the situation. The underwater dungeon, though distant, was both a blessing and a curse. Its northern location, thousands of kilometers away from Jola City, ensured that no fishermen would accidentally encounter the magical beasts and face deadly attacks. Moreover, since magical beasts rarely stray far from their dungeons unless compelled by hunger or the presence of a more powerful predator, the beasts posed no immediate threat to Jola City¡¯s coastline.This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings. ¡°So far,¡± Ravenna concluded, her tone measured, ¡°we have seen no signs of these magical beasts near Jola City, which indicates that the migrating fish are satisfying their hunger. However, this stability is fragile. Should their food supply dwindle, they may venture farther south, posing a significant risk.¡± James leaned back in his chair, stroking his chin thoughtfully. ¡°This is quite the discovery, Your Highness. Both a danger and an opportunity, depending on how we address it.¡± Sarah nodded vigorously in agreement, her mind already racing with strategies to mitigate the situation. Meanwhile, Richard sat frozen, still coming to terms with the revelation. Ravenna, however, was unfazed. She exuded a sense of control, her gaze sharp and calculating. ¡°This is not merely a problem,¡± she said with a hint of determination in her voice. ¡°It¡¯s an opportunity, one we cannot afford to squander.¡± The room fell silent, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. Then, Ravenna¡¯s smile widened, her tone turning almost playful. ¡°Since the magical beasts are consuming our fish, why not turn the tables and eat them instead?¡± Her suggestion caused an immediate stir. Richard blinked in confusion, leaning forward. ¡°Huh¡­ what do you mean?¡± Ravenna¡¯s eyes sparkled with purpose. ¡°The Mira and Maverick Fish beasts are enormous¡ªeach the size of a horse. Catching just one would provide enough meat to sustain a family for weeks. If we organize a specialized magical beast fishing team, we could capture them and use them as a sustainable food source.¡± The room erupted into murmurs of disbelief and skepticism. Hughes, being a battle hardened Knight stepped forward, his expression incredulous. ¡°Insanity! Magical beasts are monsters! It takes multiple knights or skilled mercenaries to take down even one. And these are beasts spawned from a two-floor dungeon. That level of strength¡ª¡± Ravenna raised a hand, silencing him mid-sentence. She gestured to the map laid out on the table, her voice steady but firm. ¡°Look here,¡± she said, pointing to the marked location of the dungeon. ¡°This dungeon is unique. It¡¯s situated far off the northern coastline, yet not too distant for us to reach. Its entrance is exposed, facing upward¡ªa rarity among dungeons, which are typically hidden. If we play our cards right, we can set a trap for these creatures. They¡¯ll swim right into it and meet their end without us having to risk our lives in direct combat.¡± The room grew quiet as her words sank in. She continued, her confidence unwavering. ¡°Unlike land-based magical beasts, these are aquatic. They cannot attack us on land. By using bait, we can lure them close and kill them without ever stepping into their waters. They¡¯re predictable, driven by instinct, and easy to manipulate if we understand their patterns.¡± James, stroked his beard thoughtfully. Richard, meanwhile, felt a bead of sweat roll down his temple. As a fisherman, he knew this task would likely fall on him and his peers. James finally spoke, his tone measured. ¡°It¡¯s a bold idea, but it¡¯s not entirely without merit. If we can successfully lure the magical beasts into a well-constructed trap, we could secure a stable food supply. Dungeons continually spawn new beasts to replace those that die, so the resource won¡¯t be depleted. However¡­¡± The priest¡¯s words trailed off, and Alice, who had been quietly observing until now, picked up the thread. ¡°However, the real issue is transport,¡± she said, her voice calm but firm. ¡°Even if we manage to kill these beasts, transporting the meat to Jola City will be a logistical nightmare. Fish meat spoils quickly in Jola¡¯s intense sun. A single round trip to the northern coastline by horseback takes an entire month. The sheer distance and the harsh desert climate make it nearly impossible to deliver fresh meat to the city.¡± The room nodded collectively, acknowledging the immense challenge Alice had laid out. Jola Island, though vast and as large as a small kingdom, was primarily a barren desert with only one city¡ªJola City¡ªperched on its southern coast. The journey to the northern coastline was grueling, fraught with harsh conditions and logistical hurdles. Ravenna¡¯s smirk deepened, her confidence unshaken despite the valid concerns. ¡°You make an excellent point, Alice,¡± she said, her voice brimming with assurance. ¡°But I have a solution for that.¡± Her grin widened, a spark of ingenuity flashing in her eyes. The room leaned in, awaiting her next words with bated breath. Ravenna was a woman of action, and when she spoke with such conviction, it was impossible not to believe she had the answer. 19. Economics of Centralization As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink, Sarah left the Lord¡¯s Castle. The meeting had ended, but her thoughts were still spinning as she made her way through the dusty streets of Jola City. Her steps were steady but absent-minded, her mind preoccupied with the weight of the discussion and the orders handed down by Her Highness, Ravenna. Her home came into view¡ªa modest structure of mud and sandstone, weathered but sturdy, a testament to the craftsmanship of a bygone era. The house had stood longer than Sarah had been alive, its walls bearing silent witness to the struggles and joys of countless days. As she entered, the door creaked slightly, and a cheerful voice immediately greeted her. ¡°Mother! You¡¯re back!¡± A small boy, no older than six, ran toward her with outstretched arms. His smile was as bright as the last rays of sunlight outside. Sarah crouched down, scooping him up into a warm embrace. She kissed his forehead, her worries momentarily melting away. ¡°Yes, I¡¯m back,¡± she said softly, her voice filled with affection. ¡°So, how was class today?¡± The boy¡¯s face lit up with excitement. ¡°I wrote all the letters without a single mistake today! Holiness Ken even gave me an A+ on my slate!¡± ¡°That¡¯s wonderful news!¡± Sarah beamed, her pride evident. As she set her son down, the door opened again, and a man stepped inside. He was in his early thirties, wearing a fisherman¡¯s garb stained with the marks of a long day¡¯s work. His broad shoulders and weathered hands spoke of a life spent battling the sea¡¯s whims. ¡°Honey, you¡¯re back,¡± he said, a mix of relief and curiosity in his voice. ¡°How did the meeting with Her Highness go? Did she say anything about the island¡¯s situation? Are we getting traders back?¡± This was Angelo, Sarah¡¯s husband and a fisherman working under Richard. His eagerness was evident¡ªlike many others in Jola City, he was anxious about the future. Sarah offered him a reassuring smile, though her eyes held a trace of exhaustion. ¡°Her Highness didn¡¯t mention much about reconnecting with mainland merchants,¡± she admitted. ¡°But she has a plan¡ªa way to make the food situation more manageable.¡± Angelo¡¯s brow furrowed as he leaned closer, his voice filled with hope and uncertainty. ¡°A plan? How?¡± Sarah gently placed her hand on his arm, her voice tinged with cautious optimism. ¡°Using ice,¡± she said simply. Angelo blinked, stunned. ¡°Ice?¡± Meanwhile, back in the grand halls of the Lord¡¯s Castle, Ravenna sat in her chamber, the air still buzzing with the weight of the earlier meeting. Across from her sat Alice, her trusted accountant maid, who had stayed behind for a more private discussion. The meeting had been a whirlwind. Ravenna had issued her orders, explained her innovative plan to transport the magical beast fish, and even delved into the mechanics of creating cement to Priest James, detailing how it could aid in constructing storage facilities easier and how to adapt the designs she gave him. Now, the room was quiet, save for the faint crackle of a lantern.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°I understand that you¡¯re trying to fix the city¡¯s situation and stabilize the economy,¡± Alice began, her words measured but firm. ¡°But you¡¯re being reckless! We don¡¯t have a budget to support these grandiose plans of yours. How do you intend to pay for everything you¡¯ve just ordered?¡± She leaned forward, her voice rising as she continued, ¡°You want a proper deck built to support trade and fishing operations¡ªthat requires manpower. How will you pay the workers? You¡¯ve tasked Sarah with organizing civilians into a militia¡ªwhere¡¯s the money to compensate them? And those people you¡¯ve sent to the northern coastline to set traps for magical beasts? We can¡¯t afford any of it!¡± Her frustration boiled over as she slammed her hand on the table, the sound echoing in the quiet room. ¡°We¡¯re already struggling to pay the volunteers helping with food distribution. Poverty is rampant, and inflation is spiraling out of control. How are you going to pay anyone? How are you going to make this work?¡± Alice¡¯s words were sharp, but they were genuine. Few dared to speak to Ravenna so bluntly, and fewer still could challenge her so directly. But Alice was different as her childhood friend and Elder Sister Figure. She pressed on, her tone both accusatory and pleading. ¡°And then there¡¯s your new administrative and economic policy!¡± she exclaimed. ¡°You¡¯ve centralized power and proposed paying wages to every citizen since private businesses no longer exist. This means the state is responsible for every single person¡¯s income. Our treasury can¡¯t handle that! We¡¯re already running on fumes. Maybe we could try reconnecting with the mainland Ancrona merchants tomorrow to secure funding, but even that¡ª¡± Ravenna raised her hand, silencing Alice mid-sentence. Calmly, she slid a set of documents across the table toward her. ¡°Didn¡¯t you read the policy details carefully?¡± she asked, her voice steady. Alice frowned but nodded. ¡°I did, as soon as you announced it. It outlines the specifics of the policy, and yes, the state must now pay every working citizen a wage since private businesses are abolished. But that only increases our expenses. How are we going to afford it?¡± Ravenna leaned back, her expression unreadable. ¡°I think you¡¯re mistaken,¡± she said, her voice tinged with quiet confidence. ¡°Look closely.¡± She opened a file, revealing detailed documents of budgets, wages, and projections for every individual and business in Jola. Ravenna had meticulously compiled the data herself using her reputation system to access the internet and spreadsheets streamlining the calculations. ¡°Because we now control all businesses and production,¡± she began, ¡°we also control the market and wages. Inflation can rise as much as it wants, but we can adjust prices to balance it out. For example¡­¡± She pointed to an example in the documentation. ¡°A barber in mainland Ancrona typically earns about one copper coin per customer, which averages out to ten silver coins a month. That¡¯s because the barber sets their own prices for services. But here, under our system, we dictate the price. A haircut will cost only half a copper coin, and the barber will earn a fixed wage of five copper coins a month.¡± Alice raised an eyebrow. ¡°But won¡¯t the barbers protest if their earnings are cut like that?¡± Ravenna nodded. ¡°They might, if the cost of living weren¡¯t also being adjusted proportionally. Since we control everything¡ªfrom food prices to construction costs¡ªwe can subsidize essentials and lower living expenses across the board. This stabilizes inflation and quells unrest. It¡¯s not just a policy; it¡¯s a solution to systemic instability.¡± She picked up a cookie from the table, taking a small bite before continuing. ¡°As for reconnecting with mainland merchants, it¡¯s not a viable option. No one wants to trade with Jola for two reasons. First, because I am the princess who killed her own mother and was exiled. Second, because Jola is impoverished and holds no market value for them. We must build our strength independently.¡± Alice stared at Ravenna, her frustration giving way to a mix of awe and disbelief. ¡°So¡­ this wasn¡¯t just a whim?¡± she asked hesitantly. ¡°You actually thought this through?¡± Ravenna smirked, her confidence unwavering. ¡°Every detail,¡± she said. 20. Eight Floor Dungeon The echoes of yesterday¡¯s discussions lingered in Ravenna¡¯s mind as she awoke. The familiar heat of the desert sun was already beginning to seep into the stone walls of the castle. Stretching languidly, she muttered to herself, ¡°Of course, there¡¯s a logical reason for centralization. The narcissistic displays and grandiose declarations? Those were just to farm points.¡± A sly smirk played on her lips as she clapped her hands, summoning the maids. Alice arrived promptly with the other attendants, and together, they helped Ravenna prepare for the day. Her bath was infused with cooling herbs, a small luxury to stave off the relentless heat. Once bathed, she was dressed in her usual attire¡ªa flowing dress of light silk designed to reveal enough to keep her cool while maintaining an air of regal elegance. The fabric shimmered faintly in the sunlight, its hues reminiscent of molten gold and the deep purple of the imperial flag. Ravenna strode into the dining hall with the commanding presence she was known for. Her beauty was both captivating and dangerous, like a sharp blade cloaked in red. The servant¡¯s movements grew noticeably more cautious as they placed her breakfast before her. A plate of golden-brown fried potatoes, delicately seasoned with salt and a touch of pepper, sat waiting. The careful arrangement of the dish spoke of the care taken to impress her. Her gaze lingered on the plate as she picked up her fork and knife. ¡°Hmm, this looks promising,¡± she remarked, her voice calm but laced with expectation. These weren¡¯t just ordinary potatoes¡ªthey represented the first successful harvest from the seabed soil farms established in Jola. The farms, located on the eastern side of the city within the ruins of the old noble¡¯s estate, were kept indoors to protect the crops from the harsh desert sun. Other experimental farms, such as those near the blacksmith workshop, had also yielded results. This dish was a milestone for the struggling city. Ravenna sliced into the crisp outer layer, revealing a soft, golden interior. She took a small bite, her expression betraying no emotion as she chewed. The flavors melded perfectly: a balance of crispness and softness, simplicity elevated by expert execution. ¡°These are excellent,¡± she declared, her tone carrying a rare note of approval. She set her utensils down momentarily and addressed Alice. ¡°Incorporate these potatoes into the food relief program. We¡¯ll gradually expand the crop production to ensure a steady supply. If everything goes as planned, we can phase out the relief program entirely within two months.¡± Alice nodded quickly, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. ¡°Understood, Your Highness. I¡¯ll ensure the orders are relayed immediately.¡± With a light clap of her hands, Ravenna signaled for the next dish. This time, it was a small bowl containing bread and chicken breast fried alongside vibrant, saut¨¦ed vegetables. She took a measured bite, savoring the flavors while her mind drifted to more pressing matters. Ravenna activated her Reputation System, the glowing interface appearing before her eyes. [Reputation System v0.1] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (6210/8200) Current Reputation Points: 20,432 You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story. Titles: Raven of Sun Palace, Unruly Princess {View Reputation Log} {Spend Reputation Points} A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she scanned the numbers. ¡°Quite the haul,¡± she murmured, her voice barely audible over the faint clatter of her utensils. The new administrative and economic policies she had introduced were yielding more than just strategic benefits, they were a treasure trove of reputation points. Every conversation, every debate sparked by her plans, fed into her growing reserves of influence. ¡°This is going better than expected,¡± she thought, taking another bite of her meal. The satisfaction of her success mingled with the deeper gratification of progress. While the city still teetered on the edge of collapse, each step forward brought them closer to stability. Morgen Dukedom, Kingdom of Estra, Vassal Kingdom to Ancrona Empire, Far South from mainland Ancorna bordering Conley Empire. Far to the south of the Ancrona Empire lay the Morgen Dukedom, a rugged territory in the Kingdom of Estra, one of four vassal kingdoms forming the Ancrona¡¯s Council of Vassal States at the South of Mainland Ancrona. Estra, nestled within towering mountain ranges, served as a natural bulwark against the Conley Empire, a southern rival with whom Ancrona had shared a tense yet bloodless rivalry for over a century. The sheer, inhospitable terrain of the Estra Mountains ensured that direct military incursions were as impractical as they were dangerous, effectively preserving peace between the two empires. Morgen Dukedom, perched at the southernmost tip of Estra, bordered the Conley vassal state of Axisum Kingdom. This strategic position afforded Morgen significant political influence, but it also bore the brunt of southern winds and storms. Yet even by Estra¡¯s frosty standards, the unrelenting cold of this summer was unnatural, an ominous blizzard howled through the mountains, its icy breath defying the season. Disturbed by reports of the unnatural weather and strange howls emanating from a secluded region in the mountains, Duke Kevin Morgen mobilized a small army of knights to investigate. Mounted on his black steed, Kevin led his men through the biting winds, his crimson cloak snapping against the icy gusts. The snow seemed to bite at their exposed skin, its sharp chill cutting deeper with each step forward. ¡°My Lord!¡± the knight captain shouted over the howling wind, his voice strained with concern. ¡°We cannot press on any further! The advance scout unit is most certainly lost! If we continue, we will meet the same fate!¡± Kevin reined in his horse, turning sharply to glare at the captain. His blue eyes burned with determination, unyielding against the cold. ¡°Are you listening to yourself?¡± he bellowed. ¡°Your comrades may still be alive, and you would abandon them to save your own skin? Whether you follow me or not, I will uncover the source of this blizzard!¡± Chastened by their lord¡¯s conviction, the knights exchanged uneasy glances but ultimately pressed on, their loyalty compelling them forward despite the gnawing fear in their hearts. The path ahead grew narrower and more treacherous, the snow deepening until their horses struggled to find footing. Hours seemed to stretch into an eternity as the wind screamed through the peaks, carrying with it a bone-chilling howl that seemed almost alive. Suddenly, a faint light flickered ahead, bobbing in the swirling storm like a ghostly beacon. Kevin raised his arm to signal a halt. ¡°Men, stay sharp!¡± he ordered, his voice cutting through the wind. ¡°Mages to the front! This could be a trick by the Conley Empire!¡± The knights and mages scrambled into formation, the latter readying spells to defend against any ambush. As the light drew closer, its source became clearer¡ªa lone figure stumbled toward them, clad in the armor of a Morgen knight. His armor was smeared with blood, his face pale and etched with terror. ¡°Hold!¡± Kevin shouted, his horse stamping impatiently as he waited for the man to approach. The knight staggered forward, clutching a torch that flickered desperately against the blizzard¡¯s onslaught. His eyes were wide with fear, his voice raw as he screamed, ¡°Turn back! Turn back! It¡¯s a dungeon! An eight-floor dungeon!¡± 21. Trip to Northern Coastline The blizzard continued its relentless assault on the Morgen Dukedom, the swirling winds howling like restless spirits as snow blanketed the land in a suffocating grip of ice. The sun remained hidden behind dense, grey clouds, leaving the dukedom shrouded in a perpetual twilight. Aria Morgen, the only daughter of Duke Kevin Morgen, stood in her father¡¯s office, her eyes filled with unease. It had been over a day since her father had departed with his knights, intent on uncovering the source of the unnatural storm. Under normal circumstances, the journey to the secluded mountain pass he intended to investigate would have taken only a few hours, even in inclement weather. But with no word from him or his party, worry gnawed at Aria. She paced the room, the fur-lined edges of her gown brushing against the polished wooden floor. Her mind raced with worst-case scenarios, each more dire than the last. As her anxiety mounted, she resolved to seek her mother¡¯s help to organize a search party. However, just as she turned toward the door, a commotion erupted outside the estate. She rushed to the window, her breath fogging the cold glass as she peered out. Her heart leapt at the sight of her father trudging up the snow-laden path toward the manor, but relief quickly turned to dread. Duke Kevin Morgen was covered in bloodstains, his movements heavy with exhaustion. Behind him trailed a diminished group of knights, their numbers alarmingly fewer than when they had departed. Their armor was battered, their faces pale with fatigue and fear. Aria hurried to the office door just as it creaked open. Kevin stepped inside, his tall frame sagging under the weight of some unspoken burden. Aria¡¯s voice trembled as she approached him. ¡°Father! You¡¯re back!¡± Kevin gave a small nod, his face grim, and shut the door behind him. His deep voice was laced with weariness as he said, ¡°I am back... but I bring terrible news.¡± Aria¡¯s stomach churned at his tone. ¡°Is it the Conley Empire?¡± she asked, her voice rising in urgency. ¡°Have they sent an army?¡± Kevin¡¯s lips curved into a forced smile, but there was no warmth in his expression. ¡°Far worse,¡± he replied. He paused, as if choosing his words carefully, then said, ¡°An eight-floor dungeon has appeared in the mountains. It¡¯s pouring out magical beasts. We encountered a herd of orcs and barely managed to wipe them out. More will be coming¡ªand soon.¡± Aria¡¯s knees buckled as the weight of his words crashed over her. She gripped the edge of the desk for support, her face pale. ¡°Then... the blizzard...¡± Kevin stepped forward and steadied her, his hands firm yet gentle. ¡°It¡¯s the dungeon,¡± he confirmed. ¡°Most likely, there¡¯s a magical beast at its core altering the weather¡ªsomething powerful. An ice dragon, perhaps.¡± Aria¡¯s breath caught. An ice dragon. The thought alone was enough to send chills racing down her spine. She straightened herself, shaking off her shock as best she could. ¡°We must contact the royal court and the council immediately!¡± she said, urgency sharpening her tone. ¡°Request aid and dispatch mages to the region!¡± Kevin raised a hand to stop her. ¡°Not the royal court,¡± he said firmly. ¡°Not even the council. We must appeal directly to the imperial court. Only the imperial mages stand a chance against what is to come.¡±Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Aria blinked, her mind reeling. The decision was bold but fraught with consequences. The Morgen Dukedom sat on the southernmost border of the Kingdom of Estra, dangerously close to the Conley Empire¡¯s territory. News of a dungeon and their request for imperial aid would almost certainly leak, reaching the ears of Conley¡¯s upper echelons. Such a revelation could embolden their rivals to exploit the dukedom¡¯s precarious situation. After a tense moment of silence, Aria nodded, her resolve hardening. ¡°I¡¯ll begin drafting the letter,¡± she said. Her voice wavered only slightly, but determination glimmered in her eyes. Kevin placed a bloodied hand on her shoulder, offering a faint smile. ¡°Good. Make haste, Aria. Every moment counts.¡± Jola City, Jola Island Northern Ancornan Seas, The blazing sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the bustling of Jola City as the day finally began to cool. Hughes, flanked by a dozen knights and a handful of weathered fishermen, stood near their prepared horses. The air buzzed with last-minute preparations as they made ready to depart for the island''s northern coastline. Alice stood nearby, holding her giggling daughter, Mina, in her arms. She clutched Hughes in a tight embrace, her love and concern evident in the way she lingered. Hughes kissed them both, first Mina¡¯s forehead, then Alice¡¯s. ¡°I¡¯ll be back in a month,¡± he assured her, his voice steady yet tender. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure her highness doesn¡¯t do anything reckless in the meantime.¡± Alice smiled, though worry flickered behind her eyes. ¡°Of course,¡± she replied softly. She kissed him one last time before stepping back. Mina waved her tiny hands, babbling cheerfully, unaware of the parting. With a final nod of farewell, Hughes mounted his horse. The group, clad in sturdy armor and armed with spears and swords, began their journey, the rhythmic clatter of hooves echoing through the streets as they departed. High above, Ravenna, watched the scene from her castle balcony. Her jet black hair caught the golden glow of the setting sun as her sharp, thoughtful gaze followed Hughes and his party until they disappeared into the distance. ¡°Hopefully, they find an ideal location to set up traps for the magical fish beasts,¡± she murmured. With a stretch and a sigh, she turned away and re-entered her chambers. The room was bathed in warm hues, lined with towering shelves of books and scattered with papers detailing the affairs of the city and the island. Ravenna seated herself at her desk and opened the Reputation System, she skimmed through the data, her mind already juggling priorities. John, vice captain of her knights, had left two days ago for the western regions of the island. He was accompanied by some knights and a group of criminals enlisted to mine the limestone. Meanwhile, Hughes was tasked with scouting the northern coastline near the dungeon, aiming to locate an ideal spot to trap and cull the fish magical beasts. As she scanned her tasks, Ravenna muttered to herself, ¡°Neil should be working on that experimental device I assigned him yesterday.¡± She glanced at a set of blueprints she had found online while browsing the internet during last night¡¯s meeting. ¡°The militia recruitment is progressing smoothly, but...¡± Her brow furrowed as she tapped her pen against the desk. The crime rate in Jola City remained a significant issue. Though the knight¡¯s patrols and newly implemented laws had curbed some of the lawlessness, the six months of unbridled chaos before her arrival had left deep scars. Many residents were still too fearful to walk the streets after dark. ¡°A city that doesn¡¯t feel safe after nightfall,¡± she muttered, ¡°is a city that won¡¯t thrive.¡± As she mulled over potential solutions to stabilize the crime problem, a sharp, urgent knock resounded from her door. Ravenna rose immediately, her feet clicking against the stone floor as she crossed the room. When she opened the door, a wide-eyed servant stood before her, breathing heavily.¡°Your Highness!¡± the servant blurted, his voice edged with panic. ¡°A ship! A ship is heading toward the island!¡± 22. An Uninvited Ship As the sun dipped below the horizon, its golden hues cast long shadows over Jola City¡¯s port, still under construction but bustling with activity. A lone ship had begun docking, its dark silhouette outlined against the fading light. From the vessel emerged a group of priests clad in pristine white robes bearing the sigils of the Herptian Church. Behind them trailed a line of people in tattered clothing, their expressions hollow and movements sluggish, as if life itself had been drained from them. Ravenna¡¯s carriage sped through the cobbled streets toward the port, flanked by a contingent of knights. The sound of hooves pounding against stone echoed in the air, mingling with the distant cries of seabirds. Her sharp gaze was fixed on the port ahead, a mixture of curiosity and annoyance simmering within her. Just as they neared their destination, a group of riders intercepted them. Leading the charge was pires James, the Herptian Church¡¯s representative on the island. He pulled his horse to a halt, raising a hand to signal his entourage to stop. The carriage came to a jarring halt, the sudden motion causing Ravenna to steady herself against the window frame. She pushed aside the curtain and leaned out, her jet-black hair catching the evening breeze. Her piercing eyes locked onto James. ¡°What is the meaning of this interruption, Your Holiness?¡± she asked, her tone cutting. ¡°I am on my way to inspect an uninvited ship that has docked in my port.¡± James, composed as ever, inclined his head respectfully. ¡°Your Highness, I must apologize. The ship in question carries guests of the Herptian Church. I should have informed you earlier, but I was only notified of their arrival a few hours ago.¡± ¡°Guests, you say?¡± Ravenna arched a brow, her voice laced with skepticism. ¡°Regardless of their purpose, they are in my city, and I will see for myself who they are.¡± James nodded, signaling his group to clear the path. ¡°Of course, Your Highness. Allow me to accompany you.¡± As the carriage resumed its journey, James rode alongside, his horse keeping pace. Ravenna¡¯s eyes remained fixed ahead, but her voice betrayed her irritation. ¡°So, who are these guests you seem so eager to meet?¡± ¡°They are representatives from the Herptian Church¡¯s headquarters on the western continent,¡± James began, his tone measured. ¡°They were on a mission to retrieve a ceremonial artifact being sold on the black market in the capital city. During the mission, they discovered a slave auction run by the Hericules criminal syndicate. With the funds they had remaining, they chose to purchase and free as many slaves as possible.¡± Ravenna¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°And now they¡¯re bringing them here? Why?¡± James hesitated for a moment, surprised by the uncharacteristic edge in her voice. ¡°Well, Your Highness,¡± he continued carefully, ¡°after freeing those who had places to return to, they found themselves responsible for the rest¡ªthose with nowhere else to go. Breaking their servitude spells and arranging transport drained their resources. The priests decided the most practical solution was to bring them here, where they could find refuge and purpose.¡± Ravenna¡¯s expression hardened. ¡°And what made them think my domain was the right place for this?¡± James glanced at her, sensing her mounting frustration. ¡°Before you extended your support to the Herptian Church here on the island, I had informed the headquarters of my desire to leave the eastern continent. Progress in spreading the faith had been stagnant. However, when you offered to help, I sent another letter, informing them that we would remain due to your generous support.¡± ¡°And?¡± Ravenna¡¯s tone was sharp, her patience wearing thin. James gave a sheepish laugh. ¡°Since we¡¯ve been struggling with manpower, the priests saw this as an opportunity to resolve multiple problems at once. The freed slaves would provide additional hands for the church, giving them purpose and a new home, while we gain much-needed assistance. With the cost of travel from the capital to here being relatively low, it was deemed the most efficient solution.¡±If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Ravenna exhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of her nose. ¡°Efficient for whom, exactly?¡± Before James could respond, the carriage rolled to a halt. They had arrived at the port. The scene before them was chaotic yet orderly. Dockworkers bustled about, unloading crates from the ship while the priests directed the newly freed individuals, who clutched threadbare belongings to their chests. Their weary eyes darted about, taking in their unfamiliar surroundings. Ravenna stepped out of the carriage, her cloak billowing in the sea breeze as she surveyed the scene. ¡°Let¡¯s see what trouble this so-called efficiency has brought to my doorstep,¡± she muttered under her breath, striding forward with James at her side. Yet, beneath her commanding exterior, Ravenna was on edge. The story James had relayed to her matched too closely with a pivotal event from Light¡¯s Conquest. In the original novel, Eugene, the protagonist, failed to rescue the saintess during the infamous Hericules auction. By then, the Herptian Church had already purchased her, whisking her away along with the other slaves to the western continent. There, the saintess rose to prominence within the church, shaping the central conflict of the story¡¯s second half. But now, everything seemed to be unraveling differently. Because of her decision to support the Herptian Church in her domain, the rescued slaves had been brought here instead of the western continent. Ravenna¡¯s mind raced as she walked, her feet clicking against the cobblestones. ¡°Am I overthinking this?¡± she mused, biting the inside of her cheek. ¡°There¡¯s no way they brought the saintess along. There are too many variables, too many unknowns¡­¡± Despite her efforts to reassure herself, a gnawing sense of unease refused to leave her. She had no intention of becoming embroiled in the main plot of the novel. If anything, she wanted to keep as far away from it as possible. As they approached the priests from the western continent, Ravenna noticed how they straightened the moment they saw her. They didn¡¯t need an introduction. Her jet-black hair, the subtle but undeniable aura of authority she exuded, and the sharpness in her deep black eyes gave her away immediately. The four priests bowed deeply, their robes swaying in unison as they greeted her. ¡°These humble priests greet Your Highness,¡± one of them intoned respectfully. Ravenna¡¯s footsteps were deliberate as she closed the distance between them. Extending her hand with an air of regality, she gestured for them to rise. Her piercing gaze locked onto them, and her voice carried an icy undertone. ¡°So, you are the ones who barged into my dukedom without any notice, are you?¡± Her words were sharp enough to make the former slaves, standing nearby in their ragged clothing, tremble visibly. Many fell to their knees, overwhelmed by her commanding presence. Even the priests, though outwardly composed, couldn¡¯t hide the flicker of unease in their eyes. ¡°Your Highness,¡± one of the priests began hesitantly, his voice shaky despite his efforts to remain calm. ¡°I apologize for the intrusion, but this mission was highly sensitive, and we couldn¡¯t risk¡ª¡± Ravenna cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand. ¡°Enough of your excuses,¡± she said curtly. ¡°Get these people to their quarters and make sure they are cared for. But remember this.¡± She took a step closer, her voice dropping into a menacing tone that sent chills down their spines. ¡°I agreed to support your religion, not to become your lackey.¡± Her dark eyes burned as she leaned in slightly, her words deliberate and cold. ¡°The next time you enter my domain unannounced, the only thing returning to your homes will be your heads. Not on your shoulders, mind you, but neatly packed in your offering boxes.¡± A heavy silence fell over the group. The priests gulped audibly and nodded in unison, their earlier composure shattered. Even the former slaves, who had no part in the priests¡¯ decisions, cowered under the weight of her presence. ¡°Yes, Your Highness,¡± one of the priests managed to stammer. ¡°We will remember.¡± Satisfied, Ravenna straightened and motioned for James to oversee the relocation of the former slaves. Her knights and the local priests worked quickly, ushering the freed individuals into the carriages waiting nearby. The mood was tense but efficient, each person moving as though afraid to incur Ravenna¡¯s wrath. As the process continued, Ravenna¡¯s sharp eyes scanned the crowd absently. Then, she froze. A young woman stepped hesitantly toward one of the carriages, her figure almost lost amidst the sea of weary faces. She had chestnut-brown hair, freckles scattered across her pale face, and dull, lifeless eyes that still held a faint spark of defiance. Ravenna¡¯s breath caught in her throat. That face¡ªit was unmistakable. Her heart thudded in her chest as memories of the official artwork from Light¡¯s Conquest flooded her mind. The girl standing before her bore an uncanny resemblance to Marie Leon, the saintess herself, one of the most pivotal characters in the novel¡¯s second half. Ravenna¡¯s pulse quickened. She forced her expression to remain calm, but her thoughts raced uncontrollably. ¡°No¡­ It can¡¯t be. Not her. Not here.¡± The sight of Marie Leon, in the flesh, sent a cold dread coursing through her veins. The stakes had just been raised, and Ravenna realized with a sinking feeling that her attempts to stay out of the novel¡¯s main plotline might already be unraveling. 23. Disciple As Marie was about to climb into the carriage, Ravenna''s sharp eyes lingered on her. The sight of the girl, so unassuming yet strikingly familiar, stirred a maelstrom of thoughts in her mind. The air around Ravenna grew heavy with her commanding presence as her lips parted. ¡°You! Girl with the brown hair! What¡¯s your name?¡± Marie froze mid-step, her hand clutching the edge of the carriage for balance. The other former slaves instinctively stepped aside, creating a path between her and Ravenna. The sheer authority in Ravenna¡¯s voice was enough to make them retreat without question. ¡°Your Highness, these people have already been through too much. Perhaps¡ª¡± James began, his tone carefully measured as he stepped forward to intercede. Ravenna silenced him with a raised hand, her eyes never leaving Marie. ¡°I asked you a question.¡± Her tone was firm, brooking no argument. Marie hesitated, her head bowing low as she stammered, ¡°M-M... Marie Leon, Your Highness.¡± Ravenna''s gaze sharpened, her thoughts racing. The name confirmed it. This wasn¡¯t a coincidence. This was her. But instead of revealing her thoughts, she maintained an air of casual curiosity. ¡°Marie,¡± she began slowly, ¡°do you want to join the church? Or would you consider another option?¡± The question made Marie glance up nervously, her freckled face pale. She had been expecting to fade into obscurity as just another rescued slave. Now, the attention of an imperial princess made her heart race in confusion and fear. ¡°Joining the church seems like... a stable life,¡± Marie said softly, her voice trembling. ¡°If I were on my own, I wouldn¡¯t¡ª¡± ¡°Your Highness,¡± one of the guest priests interjected, his tone edged with unease, ¡°this line of questioning is inappropriate. These people have been through hardship and deserve¡ª¡± Ravenna¡¯s gaze snapped to him, dark and sharp like a raven¡¯s eyes before swooping for prey. ¡°Silence,¡± she commanded coldly. ¡°Interrupt me again, and you¡¯ll leave my domain in pieces.¡± The priest¡¯s words died in his throat, his face pale. Ravenna returned her attention to Marie, her voice softer now but no less commanding. ¡°A stable life, is it? What about glory? Purpose? Do you not wish to become something more?¡± Marie¡¯s head tilted slightly, her gaze cautiously meeting Ravenna¡¯s. ¡°Is that even possible for someone like... me?¡± she asked hesitantly. Ravenna chuckled, the sound low and rich. ¡°Even a lame horse can win races with the right rider. Why not you?¡± Marie blinked, unsure if she had just been insulted or encouraged. James stepped forward cautiously, his brow furrowed. ¡°Your Highness, if I may ask... what exactly are you intending to do?¡± Ravenna smiled faintly, a dangerous glint in her eye. ¡°Nothing much, Your Holiness,¡± she said with mock humility. ¡°I simply feel the time has come for me to take on a disciple.¡± The air stilled as the weight of her words sunk in. The priests, both her own and the guests, exchanged wide-eyed glances. One of the guest priests stammered, ¡°Y-Your Highness, surely you don¡¯t mean this girl? She¡¯s... she was just a slave. Surely there are better¡ª¡±Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°Not even my father, Emperor Andrew Solarius, dictates who I take as a disciple,¡± Ravenna said sharply. ¡°And yet you presume to challenge me on this?¡± Her tone was icy, cutting through their protests like a blade. The priests immediately fell silent, their faces pale and damp with sweat. Turning back to Marie, Ravenna stepped closer, her imposing presence looming over the girl. ¡°Well? Decide. Do you wish to join the church and live your ¡®stable¡¯ life, or will you take a chance and become my disciple?¡± Marie¡¯s mind reeled. A disciple of an imperial princess? Such a fate was unimaginable for someone like her. She had dreamed only of survival and perhaps a quiet existence. Now, this. ¡°Your Highness,¡± James interjected again, though this time his voice was quieter, cautious. ¡°Why her? You don¡¯t even know anything about her.¡± Ravenna¡¯s lips turned into a sly smile. ¡°Must I explain my every whim to you? Fine. I like her hair color. Will that suffice?¡± The absurdity of the response stunned James into silence. Marie looked up slowly, her hands trembling. She wanted to believe this wasn¡¯t some cruel jest. Could this truly be real? Could someone like her achieve something so far beyond her station? The other former slaves whispered among themselves, their voices hushed and incredulous. Even the guest priests seemed at a loss, their jaws slack. Ravenna watched the turmoil in Marie¡¯s eyes with quiet satisfaction. ¡°Well, girl? What will it be?¡± Marie hesitated, her hands clenching at her sides as thoughts raced through her mind. Joining the church would indeed provide a stable life, she reasoned. She could learn, grow, and perhaps climb the ranks from a junior priestess to a senior priestess, or even¡ªif fortune truly favored her¡ªa high priestess. A life of stability and routine. It was safe. Predictable. But as she thought deeper, doubts crept in. Was that all she wanted? Safety and predictability? Her mind flashed to her late father¡¯s words, spoken during simpler times when their village still stood and life was filled with dreams rather than despair. He had always urged her to aim higher, to become someone who left a mark on the world. That dream had seemed distant after the attack on her village, after the brutal hands of Hercules¡¯ criminal syndicate tore her life apart. Now, with her father gone and her freedom newly regained, she had resigned herself to survival, to simply existing. Yet here was an opportunity so extraordinary it felt surreal. To become an imperial disciple¡ªdirectly under the wing of someone from the Solarius imperial family¡ªwas beyond anything she had dared to imagine. Such a position wasn¡¯t just rare; it was legendary. A door like this might open only once in a lifetime. Her heart raced as she forced herself to meet Ravenna¡¯s piercing gaze. Marie swallowed hard, her voice trembling but resolute. ¡°I... I want to become your disciple, Your Highness.¡± A triumphant smile spread across Ravenna¡¯s face, sharp and full of satisfaction. ¡°Good,¡± she declared, her voice ringing with authority. ¡°From this day forward, you are no longer a nameless shadow. You are my disciple, Marie Leon.¡± The words echoed through the square, silencing every whisper and murmur. The former slaves stared in stunned disbelief, and the priests¡ªboth Ravenna¡¯s own and the guests¡ªwere frozen in shock. Ravenna turned sharply on her heel, her cloak sweeping behind her like the wings of a raven in flight. Without looking back, she barked her next command. ¡°James, see to it that the priests are reminded of their place before they leave my city. I won¡¯t tolerate another misstep.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Highness,¡± James replied, bowing deeply, though his face betrayed a flicker of unease. As Marie stood there, still grappling with the weight of what had just transpired, Ravenna glanced back over her shoulder, her sharp eyes narrowing. ¡°Well? What are you waiting for? Climb into my carriage. Or would you rather change your mind?¡± Marie startled, her cheeks flushing. ¡°N-No, Your Highness,¡± she stammered, quickly bowing. She straightened herself, her steps hesitant but determined as she made her way toward the luxurious carriage. The gleaming vehicle was unlike anything she had ever seen. Adorned with intricate gold filigree and embossed with the imperial crest, the carriage radiated opulence. Its polished surface reflected the sunlight, almost blinding in its splendor. Marie¡¯s steps faltered as she approached the velvet-lined interior. She felt out of place, her worn clothes and meek demeanor stark contrasts to the grandeur before her. Ravenna watched her with an impatient expression, one eyebrow arching slightly. ¡°Stop dawdling. Get in.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Highness,¡± Marie said quickly, her voice barely above a whisper. She climbed into the carriage awkwardly, her hands brushing against the fine upholstery. As the door closed behind her, Ravenna took her seat opposite Marie, her posture regal and commanding. She regarded her new disciple with a piercing gaze, the faintest hint of amusement curling at the edges of her lips. 24. Crime Rate Ravenna sat at her desk, a delicate porcelain teacup in hand, the warm aroma of tea wafting through the room. Her sharp, deep black eyes gazed out the window, watching the silver moonrise illuminate the darkened skyline of the city. The quiet moment of reflection was interpreted by the soft chime of an interface panel materializing before her. [Reputation System v0.1] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (6350/8200) Current Reputation Points: 21,331 Titles: Raven of Sun Palace, Unruly Princess {View Reputation Log} {Spend Reputation Points} Ravenna¡¯s lips curved into a faint smile as she reviewed the display. ¡°Seems I earned quite a bit from today¡¯s commotion,¡± she murmured, sipping her tea. Her thoughts were interrupted by a firm knock at the door. She set her cup down gracefully and called out, ¡°Come in.¡± The door creaked open, and Alice entered, her steps purposeful. She placed a hefty file on the desk with a dull thud before settling into the chair opposite Ravenna. ¡°I heard you took in a disciple on a whim,¡± Alice began, her tone laced with mild caution. Ravenna chuckled, a sly glint in her eyes. ¡°Indeed. She caught my eye, her hair, and her face were pretty adorable. I¡¯ve reached twenty-six without a single disciple; it was high time to change that, wouldn¡¯t you agree?¡± Alice raised an eyebrow. ¡°That¡¯s all well and good, but... a former slave?¡± ¡°What of it?¡± Ravenna replied smoothly, her smile unwavering. ¡°Potential is potential, regardless of origin. Now, what¡¯s in the report?¡± She gestured to the file with a casual flick of her wrist. Alice sighed but nodded, flipping open the folder. ¡°Things are progressing well on the food distribution front. The introduction of potatoes has been successful, and the farming assistance program is gaining traction. Within a month, we should be able to phase out the food distribution program entirely.¡± Ravenna leaned back, satisfaction evident on her face. ¡°That¡¯s ahead of schedule. Impressive.¡± Alice continued, ¡°The new economic policy is showing positive results as well. By lowering median wages along with the cost of services and goods, we¡¯ve managed to stabilize the market. However, if the situation doesn¡¯t balance fully in the coming weeks, we may need to extend these measures. For now, though, it looks promising.¡± ¡°How much remains in the treasury?¡± Ravenna asked, her tone sharp and businesslike. Alice responded promptly, ¡°We have approximately seventy mana coins. After covering wages for the knights and other essential employees, we should be able to sustain the economy for about three months. That¡¯s largely thanks to the new policies.¡± She hesitated, then added, ¡°However...¡± Ravenna finished the thought. ¡°However, it¡¯s just an estimate. We¡¯ll need to secure an external source of income before then.¡± Alice nodded in agreement. Even with state control over businesses and services, they couldn¡¯t rely indefinitely on internal monetary circulation. The current model of reducing costs and wages was a temporary solution; eventually, the bubble would burst. Attracting revenue from outside the island was imperative.The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°The mining expedition led by Vice Knight-Captain John has gone smoothly,¡± Alice reported. ¡°They¡¯ll return tomorrow afternoon with a sizable shipment of limestone.¡± ¡°Good,¡± Ravenna replied, tapping her fingers on the desk. ¡°There¡¯s also a letter from Hughes regarding his journey to the northern coastline. They estimate another ten to twelve days before they reach their destination.¡± Ravenna gave an approving nod. ¡°Excellent. And the city?¡± Alice¡¯s expression darkened slightly. ¡°Crime rates remain a persistent issue. Despite deploying the newly formed militia alongside the knights for regular patrols and implementing stricter punishments, the improvements are negligible. Every day, we receive reports of theft, attempted murder, or sexual abuse. The knight¡¯s station is overwhelmed with complaints.¡± Ravenna¡¯s fingers stilled, her gaze hardening. She leaned back in her chair with a sigh, her earlier composure giving way to frustration. ¡°It¡¯s been a recurring problem,¡± she said, her voice low. ¡°No matter how many policies we enact or patrols we implement, the chaos left in the wake of the nobility¡¯s absence refuses to abate. Even as living conditions improve, the ingrained habits of lawlessness persist.¡± Alice nodded solemnly. ¡°The people grew accustomed to crime during the period of unrest. It¡¯s as much a cultural issue now as an economic one.¡± Ravenna stared at the moonlight streaming through the window, her mind racing with possible solutions. The challenge before her was immense, but she refused to let it defeat her. Her thoughts were interrupted by a tentative knock at the door. A hesitant voice followed, barely above a whisper. ¡°Y-Your Highness, it¡¯s Marie... May I come in?¡± Ravenna straightened and called out, her tone gentle but firm, ¡°Yes, come in.¡± The door creaked open, and Marie stepped inside. The transformation was striking. Her chestnut-brown hair, previously matted with brine, now gleamed, cascading down her shoulders in soft waves. Her freshly scrubbed skin, free of grime, had a subtle glow under the room¡¯s warm lamplight. She wore one of Ravenna¡¯s personal outfits¡ªa sleeveless crop top made of light, breathable silk. The fabric was intricately embroidered with golden threads, shimmering faintly with her every movement. The top, dyed a deep, elegant black, contrasted beautifully with her fair complexion and rich brown hair. The ensemble was completed with a high-waisted, flowing maxi skirt tailored for practicality in the island¡¯s hot climate. Slits ran along its sides, granting both ease of movement and a touch of understated allure. Yet, despite the outfit¡¯s elegance, Marie¡¯s awkward movements revealed her unfamiliarity with such attire. ¡°She cleans up nicely,¡± Alice remarked, a knowing smile gracing her lips. ¡°Practically a noblewoman,¡± Ravenna added with a playful smirk. Marie¡¯s cheeks flushed crimson at the compliment. She quickly bowed her head, her voice faltering with embarrassment. ¡°T-Thank you, Your Highness.¡± Alice stepped forward, her expression softening. ¡°Ah, where are my manners? I¡¯m Alice, head maid and accountant to Her Highness.¡± Her tone was warm, almost motherly, as she extended a hand in greeting. Marie glanced up, unsure of how to respond. She managed a shy nod, her hands fidgeting nervously. Ravenna gestured toward the chair opposite her desk. ¡°Come, sit. Let¡¯s talk about you and your future.¡± Marie hesitated, her gaze flitting to Alice, who gave her an encouraging nod. Finally, she took her seat, though her discomfort was evident. The skirt, with its high slit, revealed more of her leg than she was accustomed to. She hastily tried to rearrange the fabric to cover herself, but the silky material refused to cooperate. Ravenna watched her with a mixture of amusement and patience. ¡°So, Marie¡ª¡± Marie¡¯s head snapped up, her attention abruptly pulled from her struggle with the dress. ¡°Y-Yes, Your Highness!¡± she blurted out, her voice loud and stiff. A soft chuckle escaped Ravenna¡¯s lips as she leaned forward slightly, her gaze steady but kind. ¡°Relax, Marie. This isn¡¯t an interrogation. We¡¯re simply having a conversation.¡± 25. Disciple鈥檚 schedule The moon hung high in the velvety sky, casting its pale glow across the room. The silvery light filtered through the ornate windows, creating intricate patterns on the polished stone floor. Marie sat opposite Ravenna, her voice trembling as she recounted her story. Though the tale was one Ravenna already knew from the novel in her past life, she listened intently, her expression a careful mix of empathy and determination. When Marie finally finished, her voice barely a whisper, Ravenna leaned forward, her deep black eyes shining with resolve. ¡°It must have been hard for you,¡± she said, her tone gentle yet firm. ¡°But worry no more. since now you are my disciple!¡± Marie¡¯s eyes widened, shimmering with unshed tears. She nodded, her lips trembling as she whispered, ¡°Thank you, Your Highness.¡± As she shifted in her seat, her hand moved instinctively to the slit of her skirt, attempting to pull the fabric over her exposed leg. Ravenna noticed and arched an eyebrow, a teasing smile curving her lips. ¡°What¡¯s the matter? Feeling shy about showing some skin?¡± Marie¡¯s cheeks flushed a deep crimson. She hesitated, her initial instinct to deny it, but decided honesty was better. Slowly, she nodded. Ravenna chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. ¡°There¡¯s nothing to be ashamed of,¡± she said, her voice carrying an air of confidence. ¡°It¡¯s an honor for others to witness beauty, not something to hide. Own it.¡± Marie lowered her gaze, still unsure but visibly comforted by Ravenna¡¯s words. Ravenna clapped her hands, drawing Marie¡¯s attention back to her. ¡°Now, let¡¯s discuss your responsibilities and schedule as my disciple.¡± Marie swallowed hard, her nerves showing in the way her hands clenched in her lap. Ravenna¡¯s tone turned authoritative as she continued. ¡°First, your living arrangements. You¡¯ll have a room on the same floor as mine, just a short walk away. Second, you will be granted a noble title on your 16th birthday. As the lord of this dukedom and an imperial princess, it¡¯s within my rights, and I intend to bestow it upon you then.¡± Marie¡¯s eyes widened in disbelief. A noble title? Her mind raced, struggling to comprehend the magnitude of such a gift for a mere former slave. ¡°Of course,¡± Ravenna added, her tone sharpening, ¡°this won¡¯t come without effort. You¡¯ll need to work hard to maintain your status and prove your worth.¡± Marie nodded eagerly, determination flickering in her eyes despite her lingering nervousness. Ravenna continued, ¡°Your mornings will begin with lessons in etiquette, reading, and writing under Alice¡¯s guidance. You mentioned you can read and write but aren¡¯t confident, so we¡¯ll address that. Afterward, you¡¯ll join me for breakfast.¡±A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Marie listened intently, her surprise growing as Ravenna outlined the next part of her schedule. ¡°Following breakfast, Dame Aisha, one of my most skilled knights, will train you in combat.¡± Marie¡¯s brows furrowed in confusion. Combat training? She had expected that Ravenna wanted her to become a scholar or perhaps assist with administrative tasks, but wielding a weapon? Ravenna smirked, clearly catching the confusion in Marie¡¯s expression. ¡°My disciples must be proficient in all aspects, not just one. You will become well-rounded¡ªperfect in every way.¡± She continued, ¡°After combat training, you¡¯ll join me for lunch in the dining hall. In the afternoon, you¡¯ll assist me in my office and learn the intricacies of managing a territory. Before dinner, you¡¯ll patrol the town to understand its people and their needs. Then, you¡¯ll rest for the night.¡± Marie¡¯s head swam with the sheer scope of the schedule, but she nodded resolutely. This was the life she had longed for¡ªa chance to learn, grow, and prove herself. ¡°Yes, Your Highness! I won¡¯t let you down!¡± Ravenna¡¯s lips curled into a satisfied smile. ¡°Good. For now, take the rest of the evening to explore the castle and the town. You have a lot to do starting tomorrow, so get some rest.¡± Marie stood, bowing deeply. ¡°Thank you, Your Highness.¡± With that, she left the room, her steps lighter than they had been in years. As the door closed, a panel appeared before Ravenna. [Reputation Points System] ¡°Well,¡± Ravenna mused, a smirk playing on her lips as she studied the panel, ¡°that¡¯s quite the haul of points from one person.¡± Satisfied, she turned her attention to her desk, calculating strategies and refining her plans for the future. Finally, she retired to bed, her mind still racing. Lying under the blanket of her bed, Ravenna reflected on the significance of taking Marie in as her disciple. It wasn¡¯t a mere act of charity¡ªit was a calculated move. In Light¡¯s Conquest, the Saintess was the face of every major religion, her presence inevitably triggering large-scale wars between nations and faiths. In the original story, Marie had been taken to the Western Continent¡¯s Herptian Church Headquarters, where she was found to be the Saintess of this era after she rose to high priest position. This revelation had sparked a devastating war between the Solious and Herptian faiths, plunging the world into chaos. Now, with Marie in Jola, the stage was set for a similar conflict once Marie eventually rises to becoming a high priest here in Jola¡¯s Church. Ravenna couldn¡¯t allow that. Rejecting all the slaves outright had been an option in her mind, but it would have disrupted the novel¡¯s key events, including Marie¡¯s eventual alliance with Eugene to defeat the Witch of the West. ¡°I can¡¯t afford to change the main story too much,¡± Ravenna murmured to herself, the dry desert heat pressing against her skin. ¡°A predictable path is the safest.¡± By taking Marie in, Ravenna thought of guiding events, ensuring the novel¡¯s core storylines remained intact while protecting Jola from unnecessary devastation. When the Witch of the West appears, Ravenna will reveal Marie as the Saintess, orchestrating a meeting with Eugene to set the original story back on course. For now, this deviation was manageable¡ªa calculated risk with long-term benefits. With a final sigh, Ravenna closed her eyes, her thoughts finally slowing as she drifted into sleep. 26. Limestone and Cement The blazing sun cast golden beams into Ravenna¡¯s study, illuminating the sand-colored walls with a warm glow. Despite the heat radiating from Jola¡¯s desert climate, the room remained serene, the air filled with the faint aroma of freshly brewed tea. Ravenna sat by the window, her silhouette outlined against the shimmering dunes outside, as she sipped her tea leisurely. John, seated across from her, shifted slightly in his chair, the sound of his armor faintly clinking as he prepared to deliver his report. He had returned earlier that morning, after the expedition she had ordered. ¡°As instructed, Your Highness, we located the layered rock formation in the western region,¡± John began, his voice steady and confident. ¡°The prisoners worked tirelessly through the night, and we managed to extract several tons of limestone.¡± Ravenna¡¯s lips curled into a satisfied smile. ¡°Excellent,¡± she said, setting her teacup down with a soft clink. ¡°Now, we can begin cement production.¡± John tilted his head, curiosity evident in his gaze, though he chose not to question her further. After a few minutes, Ravenna and James stood by the rugged coastline. The sound of waves crashing against the shore mixed with the rhythmic hum of activity as workers prepared the site. A custom-built blast furnace, crafted meticulously by Nile, had been transported from the blacksmith¡¯s workshop. Nearby, a small waterwheel¡ªdesigned by James and constructed by the church¡¯s engineers, spun slowly, its paddles glinting under the sun. ¡°So, this is where the magic happens?¡± James asked, his scholarly tone betraying a hint of skepticism. Ravenna smirked. ¡°You doubt my claims, Your Holiness?¡± she teased, her voice carrying a playful edge that made James stiffen slightly. ¡°Fear not. You¡¯ll soon witness the process for yourself.¡± She turned to the assembled workers. ¡°Follow my instructions carefully,¡± she commanded, her voice firm and authoritative. A floating panel hovered discreetly before her eyes. It displayed a step-by-step video guide on the internet, detailing the cement-making process. Although unfamiliar with some terminologies, Ravenna adapted quickly, pausing to consider her instructions before issuing them to the workers. The workers began by feeding limestone into the blast furnace. This furnace, designed with low airflow to optimize calcination, heated the limestone until it underwent a chemical transformation. The heat drove out carbon dioxide, leaving behind calcium oxide, or quicklime. Once the lime was ready, Ravenna instructed the workers to mix it with clay and a small amount of sand. These materials were placed into a milling station powered by the waterwheel. The grinding stones rotated steadily, crushing the mixture into a fine, homogeneous blend. ¡°This step ensures the materials bind effectively,¡± Ravenna explained to James, who watched with growing fascination. The blended mixture was then returned to the furnace for sintering, a high-temperature process that produced clinker: small, hard nodules essential for cement. Finally, the clinker was ground together with gypsum, which Ravenna had sourced from the solar stills used for water treatment. The result was a fine, gray powder: cement. James inspected the powder closely, running it between his fingers. ¡°It¡¯s remarkably fine,¡± he remarked. ¡°Surely this isn¡¯t used on its own for construction?¡± ¡°You¡¯re correct,¡± Ravenna replied. ¡°It¡¯s mixed with crushed stones and sand to form concrete, which is then poured into molds or used to bind bricks.¡±Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Intrigued, James nodded. ¡°Let¡¯s test it, then.¡± The workers mixed the cement with aggregate and water, creating a smooth paste. They used it to construct a small brick wall by the beach, carefully layering the bricks with precision. By midday, the wall stood firm, its surface glistening slightly from the moisture in the fresh concrete. Ravenna and James decided to let it cure under the sun¡¯s heat and inspect it the following morning. ¡°This could revolutionize construction,¡± James mused aloud as they walked back. ¡°If it works as you claim, the efficiency and strength it offers would be unmatched.¡± Ravenna smiled, the gears of her mind already turning. ¡°This is just the beginning,¡± she said. ¡°Imagine what we could build with a material like this. Cities, fortresses, aqueducts¡­ even temples to rival those of the Western Continent.¡± As the afternoon sun dipped lower, casting long shadows over the beach, Ravenna felt a deep sense of satisfaction. By the next day, they would know if their efforts had paid off. Ravenna walked into the dining hall, her feet clicking softly against the polished stone floor. The warm scent of roasted herbs and bread filled the air, mingling with the faint tang of parchment and ink that always lingered in the castle. At the grand table, Marie sat stiffly, her posture betraying exhaustion. Her pale face and trembling hands revealed the toll that combat training had taken on her malnourished body. Ravenna took her seat gracefully, observing the young girl¡¯s attempts to mask her fatigue. ¡°Is combat training proving to be too rigorous?¡± Ravenna asked, her tone sharp yet not unkind. ¡°Aisha has a habit of underestimating her own strength. If it¡¯s too much for you, I can instruct her to ease up.¡± Marie quickly shook her head, her disheveled hair brushing against her cheeks. ¡°No, Your Highness,¡± she said, her voice wavering slightly. ¡°Master¡¯s training is fine. I can handle it.¡± The word master caught Ravenna¡¯s attention. She raised an eyebrow, her sharp eyes narrowing. ¡°Master?¡± she echoed. ¡°You call Dame Aisha ¡®Master,¡¯ yet you address me as ¡®Your Highness¡¯? Are you not my disciple as well?¡± Marie¡¯s eyes widened with nervousness, and her hands fidgeted in her lap. ¡°I... I thought you wouldn¡¯t want me to call you that since I¡¯m a former¡ª¡± ¡°Enough with your self-pity,¡± Ravenna interrupted, her voice cold and cutting. ¡°If I wanted to discard you, I would¡¯ve left you to the mumbling priests and their pity-driven sermons. You are here because I see potential, not weakness.¡± Marie swallowed hard, her face flushing with a mix of embarrassment and determination. She bowed her head slightly. ¡°I understand... Master,¡± she whispered, the word feeling foreign yet oddly comforting on her tongue. Ravenna¡¯s stern expression softened slightly into a satisfied smile as servants began placing lunch on the table. Marie straightened, fumbling with the utensils. She had been given only one etiquette lesson so far, and her grip on the fork and knife was awkward at best. Despite this, she made an earnest effort, her brows furrowed in concentration. Ravenna observed her attempts without comment, calmly cutting into her meal. After a moment, she said, ¡°You can take the rest of the day off. There¡¯s no need for you to assist me in the office or join the patrol tonight. I underestimated how taxing your first days would be.¡± Marie opened her mouth to protest, but the weight of her exhaustion silenced her. Instead, she nodded quietly, grateful for the reprieve. After lunch, Ravenna retired to her study. The room was bathed in warm light from the setting sun, and the faint rustle of papers filled the air as she worked. Alice had delivered a detailed report earlier that morning, listing expenditures, resource allocations, and outstanding wages. Ravenna methodically reviewed the data, occasionally glancing at the spreadsheet interface floating in her Reputation System. She still can¡¯t get over how lucky this functionality is. It allowed her to quickly sort figures, cross-reference expenditures, and calculate potential savings. What would have taken an entire week with parchment and ink took barely two hours. By the time she finished, Ravenna leaned back in her chair, stretching slightly to ease the stiffness in her back. She gazed out of the window, her mind already shifting to the next pressing issue. Ravenna got up and stepped into her carriage as the evening sky deepened into shades of purple and orange. The rhythmic clatter of hooves on cobblestone accompanied her thoughts as she considered the scarcity of iron. The blacksmiths had reported delays in tools production, and several construction projects were at risk of stalling. ¡°This shortage is becoming problematic,¡± she muttered under her breath, her fingers tapping lightly on the carriage¡¯s wooden frame. ¡°If we don¡¯t resolve this soon, it could destroy all my efforts so far.¡± 27. Black Sand and Iron The eastern beach of Jola Island stretched out in a dazzling orange hue, its golden sands glimmering under the sun¡¯s relentless heat. Amid the serene sounds of waves brushing against the shore, a small blanket of shade stood out: two chairs and a table nestled under an umbrella made of expensive, tightly woven cotton. Beneath its shadow sat Ravenna and Marie, observing the scene before them¡ªa group of workers laboring diligently on a two-storied test structure made of cement. At another corner of the beach, fishermen hauled up seabed soil from the ocean. Unlike their usual routine of farming with it, the soil was being carefully packed into neat wooden boxes by blacksmiths, who worked with precision under Nille¡¯s watchful eye. Nille approached Ravenna with an uneasy expression, his heavy boots crunching over the sand. ¡°Your Highness,¡± he began hesitantly, ¡°do you really think this will work? We¡¯re trying to make iron out of sand here... this feels like chasing for the impossible.¡± From beneath the shade of the umbrella, Ravenna tilted her head, her sharp gaze piercing through Nille¡¯s doubt. ¡°Do I look like an idiot to you, Nille?¡± she asked, her voice calm yet laced with authority. ¡°This is only the first experiment. Now, get to work.¡± Defeated but compliant, Nille gave a curt nod and turned back to bark instructions at the blacksmiths. Marie, sitting quietly beside Ravenna, had been observing the exchange with growing curiosity. Finally, she mustered the courage to ask, ¡°Master, are we really making iron out of sand? Is that even possible?¡± Ravenna turned toward the girl, a faint smile curling her lips. It was clear that Marie was slowly shedding her life of slavery and embracing a more normal existence. ¡°You¡¯re quite the curious girl, aren¡¯t you?¡± Ravenna said, her tone softening. Picking up a glass of lemon juice from the table, Ravenna took a refreshing sip before continuing. ¡°I explained this to Nille last night, but it seems he¡¯s still plagued by doubt. The seabed soil from this beach, normally used for farming has an unusually high concentration of iron particles. I suspect we¡¯re sitting near a large deposit of black sand.¡± Marie tilted her head, intrigued. ¡°Black sand? What¡¯s that?¡± Ravenna handed her a cookie from the plate on the table. ¡°Black sand,¡± she explained, ¡°is a type of sand rich in iron and other heavy minerals. It¡¯s usually found near areas of volcanic activity.¡± Marie bit into the cookie, her muffled voice chiming, ¡°Hwoh tha¡¯ hewp ush?¡± Ravenna chuckled softly, shaking her head. ¡°Don¡¯t talk with your mouth full,¡± she said patiently. ¡°Black sand has a higher concentration of iron particles, which makes it an ideal source for forging when traditional resources are scarce.¡± Marie quickly swallowed her bite and asked, ¡°So, are we using that sand to make iron? Does that really work?¡± Ravenna¡¯s eyes twinkled with a mix of amusement and confidence. ¡°We won¡¯t know until we try,¡± she said simply, her gaze drifting back to the workers constructing the test building. Marie, seemingly satisfied with the answer, resumed nibbling on another cookie. She opened a book she had been studying, a primer on reading comprehension and began jotting down notes. Suddenly, she looked up, curiosity reignited. ¡°But how did you even know there was so much iron in the sand?¡± Ravenna reached over and gently patted Marie¡¯s head. ¡°Let¡¯s just say it was an educated guess,¡± she said, though her mind replayed the events that had led to this discovery. A week ago, The geological scan had revealed high levels of iron in the area¡¯s underwater sand. Initially, Ravenna hadn¡¯t thought much of it. But after delving into researching online, she had learned that ancient Japanese smiths and certain regions of China had historically used black sand to forge steel during times of scarcity. Inspired, she had spent days investigating and confirming the feasibility of the idea. The scans had indicated that the black sand deposits around a few meters from the island were abundant, with the eastern beach being the shallowest and most accessible location to start the experiment.This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. The workers continued their efforts under the blazing sun, while Ravenna¡¯s thoughts were momentarily interrupted by Marie¡¯s voice. ¡°Master,¡± she began, ¡°about today¡¯s combat training...¡± Ravenna glanced at her with interest. ¡°How did it go?¡± Marie smiled sheepishly. ¡°Master Dame Aisha said I might not be suited for swordsmanship. She thinks I¡¯d be better off with a long-range weapon, like a bow or crossbow.¡± Ravenna frowned slightly. ¡°What does she mean by that?¡± ¡°She said I lack the instincts for close combat but have good focus and precision,¡± Marie explained. ¡°She thinks I¡¯ll learn faster with a weapon I¡¯m more naturally inclined to.¡± Ravenna nodded thoughtfully. ¡°That makes sense. Focus on your strengths, then. Keep at it.¡± Marie beamed at the encouragement and returned to her book, scribbling notes with renewed determination. As the sun dipped closer to the horizon, casting golden light over the beach, Nille returned with a few workers carrying the packed boxes of seabed soil. ¡°Your Highness,¡± he said, gesturing to the boxes, ¡°is this all we need? Are we supposed to use the lodestones now?¡± Ravenna stood, her chair scraping softly against the sand. She glanced at Marie, a playful glint in her eye. ¡°Come on, Marie,¡± she said. ¡°This will be fun.¡± Marie quickly closed her book and stood up, her excitement barely contained. Two maids approached, holding umbrellas to shield them from the remaining sunlight as they walked toward the blacksmiths. The rhythmic sound of waves, the clinking of tools, and the hum of distant conversations filled the air as the experiment to forge iron from black sand began. As they approached the group of blacksmiths, Nille stood ready with the lodestones and a setup that had been meticulously crafted over the past night. The main apparatus consisted of a large, drum-like structure connected to the island''s waterwheel. The wheel, powered by the flowing stream, turned the drum, causing the lodestones inside to rotate and generate a magnetic field. This, in theory, would draw out the iron particles hidden within the black sand. Ravenna gestured toward the setup, her voice calm but firm. ¡°Watch closely, Marie. This is where theory meets reality.¡± Marie¡¯s eyes sparkled with curiosity as she observed the lodestones at work. The drum spun, and the lodestones began attracting tiny flecks of metal¡ªiron filings, to be exact. The black sand¡¯s grains shimmered as the magnetic field separated the iron particles from the rest of the material. ¡°Master,¡± Marie chimed in, her tone eager, ¡°what are these? and why are they so concentrated here?¡± Ravenna smiled at her student¡¯s quick observation. ¡°Normally, iron fillings are scattered in trace amounts in sand. But this particular sand has an unusually high concentration, likely due to underwater volcanic activity that created these black sand deposits rich in iron.¡± Marie tilted her head in wonder. ¡°It¡¯s like nature hid treasure right beneath our feet!¡± Nille, who had been observing the process with a skeptical eye, finally spoke, his tone tinged with awe. ¡°Your Highness, this might actually work. I didn¡¯t expect the lodestones to pull so much material.¡± Ravenna gave him a knowing look. ¡°Does this clear your doubts, Nille?¡± The blacksmith gulped, his pride momentarily dented. ¡°Yes, Your Highness. I can see now that there¡¯s real potential here.¡± With the iron filings collected, the next step began. The blacksmiths carefully washed the gathered material, separating the remaining sand and impurities. The clean filings were then poured into a custom-designed blast furnace. The furnace, also connected to the waterwheel, utilized a mechanical hammer powered by the wheel. This innovation reduced the physical labor required and allowed for consistent, precise strikes to purify the molten metal. As the furnace roared to life, glowing embers illuminated the beach. Nille and the blacksmiths worked with practiced efficiency, their hammers rhythmically striking the heated iron to remove the last traces of impurities. Ravenna watched the process with a sense of satisfaction, her sharp eyes taking in every detail. ¡°It¡¯s a simple yet effective design,¡± Ravenna remarked, her tone carrying a hint of pride. ¡°The waterwheel¡¯s energy isn¡¯t just powering the magnetic drum but also the furnace¡¯s hammer. This reduces labor and ensures uniform results.¡± Marie nodded, entranced by the synergy of human ingenuity and nature¡¯s bounty. ¡°It¡¯s amazing, Master. We¡¯re turning sand into something so valuable.¡± Hours later, the molten metal was allowed to cool, solidifying into a gleaming black bar. Nille approached the finished product, his hands trembling slightly as he examined it. He tapped it with a practiced ear and nodded in approval. ¡°It¡¯s iron,¡± he said, his voice reverent. ¡°And not just iron¡ªthis looks like it¡¯s of excellent quality. Your Highness, this could change everything.¡± Ravenna smiled, pleased but not surprised. ¡°Good work, everyone. This is only the beginning. With this method, we can produce iron locally, strengthening our position and reducing our reliance on trade.¡± As the blacksmiths cheered softly in relief and pride, Marie looked up at Ravenna, her admiration evident. ¡°Master, you really are amazing. How did you think of all this?¡± Ravenna ruffled Marie¡¯s hair gently, her gaze softening. ¡°The land speaks if you know how to listen, Marie. And sometimes, the answers are hidden in history, waiting to be rediscovered.¡± Ravenna decided to put up an act of a wise princess for her disciple as the beach, bathed in moonlight now, seemed to hum with the promise of progress. 28. Jola鈥檚 Dungeon [Reputation System v0.1] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (7980/8200) Current Reputation Points: 3,331 Titles: Raven of Sun Palace, Unruly Princess {View Reputation Log} {Spend Reputation Points} Ravenna opened her eyes to the soft morning light streaming through the window. Floating in her vision was the reputation system¡¯s interface. She had spent most of the previous night poring over documents, maps, and online resources, searching for ways to tackle the crime problem in Jola and refine her newfound iron production methods into something more versatile, something like steel. ¡°Creating a steam engine might not be too far off now that we¡¯ve successfully forged iron,¡± Ravenna muttered, rubbing her temples as the interface displayed her progress. Her experience had grown steadily over time. She¡¯d made a few observations about the system¡¯s experience points: first, experience increased passively with each passing day, likely due to her position and responsibilities. Second, it surged whenever she gained reputation points: especially in bulk, like when she announced new regulations or caused a stir at the docks a few days ago. Those moments seemed to earn her more experience points, albeit not always. After freshening up with the help of Alice and the other maids, Ravenna joined Marie for breakfast. The girl had been working diligently to improve her etiquette, and it showed¡ªthough she still had a long way to go. Over tea and freshly baked bread, Ravenna encouraged Marie''s progress before retreating to her study to tackle the day¡¯s challenges. In the quiet of her study, she pulled out a large map of Jola from a drawer beneath her desk. This map was more detailed than the one she used for the meeting recently; it marked the results of geological scan in far more detail. Her eyes lingered on a particular note near the western region of the island, where she¡¯d scrawled in brackets: ¡°Limestone and Petroleum deposits.¡± A sigh escaped her lips as she traced the markings with her finger. Beneath the western cliffs lay a substantial petroleum reserve trapped in layered rock formations, where the limestone was mined from. It was an incredible discovery. one that could have made Jola a dominant economic power in her past life. But here, in this world, the technology to refine petroleum didn¡¯t exist. It was a sleeping giant, one she couldn¡¯t awaken anytime soon. Her gaze shifted to another section of the map, highlighting the belt of black sand deposits encircling the island¡¯s eastern waters. ¡°The sheer volume of black sand is astonishing,¡± she murmured. ¡°Even if we mined it continuously from the seabed near the eastern beach, it would take generations to exhaust.¡± This abundance was a stroke of luck, bordering on miraculous. Black sand, typically found near volcanic regions, shouldn¡¯t have been present on Jola, which lacked volcanoes entirely. However, ocean currents carried the sand from a nearby underwater volcano or hydrothermal vent, depositing it in a steady, almost endless supply along the island¡¯s perimeter. Satisfied with the assessment of her resources, Ravenna unfolded a second map, this one of the Ancorna Empire. Her expression darkened as she studied the ports and trade routes across the ocean. Almost every major port city or small town directly opposite Jola was under the control of her brothers, Prince William or Prince Landon. Both were key players in the empire¡¯s succession battle, and both were determined to see her fail.Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. ¡°The local lords won¡¯t cooperate,¡± Ravenna muttered, her voice laced with frustration. ¡°William or Landon will pressure the merchants to avoid trade, even if I manage to establish a business channel.¡± She tapped her fingers against the desk, her mind racing through potential solutions. Revenue streams were scarce. Selling steel or even raw iron, while tempting, was far too dangerous. ¡°William already tried to poison me once for stepping on his toes,¡± she said, her voice a bitter whisper. ¡°If anyone realizes we¡¯ve started producing high-value materials here, they¡¯ll swoop in to snatch it all away and push me aside, just like before.¡± Her grip tightened around the edge of the map. Jola¡¯s resources held immense potential, but turning them into an economic lifeline without painting a target on her back felt like an impossible task for the movement. Meanwhile, at the Northern Coastline of Jola, A group of fifty figures arrived on horseback, their silhouettes cutting a stark contrast against the rugged coastline. The party, led by Hughes, consisted of knights and fishermen. After two arduous weeks of travel across uneven sandy terrain, they had finally reached their destination. Hughes dismounted, surveying the windswept beach with a practiced eye. The salty breeze carried the distant cries of seabirds, and the sound of waves crashing against sandy shore filled the air. He turned to his men, his voice carrying the authority of years of command. ¡°Set up a solar still so we can have fresh water,¡± Hughes ordered. ¡°Fishermen, start surveying the area for signs of the dungeon. Knights, begin establishing the camp. I¡¯ll join the fishermen shortly.¡± ¡°Yes, Captain!¡± The knights responded in unison, their voices sharp and disciplined. As the knights began erecting tents and securing the area, Hughes joined the fishermen by the shoreline. He quickly conferred with Richard. Together, they pushed a small boat into the surf, intending to survey the ocean for magical beasts that might indicate the proximity of a dungeon. The boat rocked gently as they drifted along the coastline, scanning the clear blue waters. The sun reflected off the surface, creating a dazzling mosaic of light. For a time, the only sounds were the rhythmic lapping of waves and the occasional cry of a gull. Suddenly, a shadow moved beneath the boat. Hughes¡¯s instincts flared, and he shouted, ¡°Everyone get down!¡± Before anyone could react, a massive fish-like creature lunged out of the water. Its powerful jaws slammed into the side of the boat with a force that felt like a battering ram, splintering the wood and sending shockwaves through the vessel. Hughes reacted swiftly, drawing his sword in a single fluid motion. The blade gleamed in the sunlight as he struck, slicing into the beast¡¯s thick hide. Blood spattered across the deck as the creature thrashed, its movements violent and chaotic. But there was no time to rest. In the distance, the water churned ominously as more shadows approached¡ªat least ten of them, their sleek bodies cutting through the waves like arrows. ¡°Back to shore! Now!¡± Hughes barked, his voice a mixture of urgency and command. Richard, his face pale but resolute, seized the oars and rowed with every ounce of strength he could muster. The boat groaned under the strain, and the waters seemed to come alive as the magical beasts pursued them relentlessly. Miraculously, they reached the shore just before the next wave of attackers could strike. The knights rushed forward to pull them from the damaged boat, their faces etched with concern. Hughes staggered onto the sand, breathing heavily. His sword hung loosely at his side, blood from the slain beast still dripping from its edge. ¡°There are magical beasts far closer to the shoreline than we anticipated,¡± he said, his voice exhausted. Richard, equally out of breath, managed a weak smile. ¡°That¡¯s better for us in the long run,¡± he replied, his tone surprisingly optimistic. ¡°At least we won¡¯t have to venture too far into open waters to deal with them next time. But we should¡¯ve tested the waters before diving in, eh?¡± Hughes couldn¡¯t help but let out a dry chuckle at Richard¡¯s words. ¡°Noted. Next time, we¡¯ll be more cautious. For now, we regroup and plan our next move.¡± 29. Golden Silkworm Ravenna sat across from Marie in the cozy study, sunlight streaming through the tall windows. Between them rested a delicate tea set on a polished oak table, the warm aroma of brewed tea mingling with the faint scent of parchment and ink. The conversation had shifted to a more serious tone as Ravenna patiently explained the intricacies of the island''s governance and the broader politics of the empire. Marie, holding her teacup with both hands, frowned slightly in thought. ¡°But, Master,¡± she began hesitantly, ¡°why doesn¡¯t Emperor Andrew just announce a successor? Wouldn¡¯t that stop all this political chaos and prevent it from damaging the empire¡¯s economy?¡± Ravenna smiled knowingly, her fingers tracing the rim of her own teacup. ¡°True, Father could end the power struggle by declaring a successor,¡± she replied, her tone carrying a hint of irony. ¡°But doing so would create a peaceful transfer of power.¡± Marie tilted her head, her confusion evident. ¡°And what¡¯s so bad about that?¡± Ravenna chuckled softly, setting her cup down with a gentle clink. ¡°Our empire is not like others,¡± she began. ¡°We hold sway over four vassal kingdoms, command the largest military on the continent, and are surrounded by enemies¡ªempires and factions who harbor varying degrees of hostility towards us. The last thing Father wants is a weak ruler to inherit the throne.¡± Marie¡¯s brows furrowed as she mulled over Ravenna¡¯s words. ¡°So he¡¯s willing to let his children fight, betray, and even kill one another for the throne?¡± she asked, her voice laced with both curiosity and a hint of horror. Ravenna leaned back in her chair, her gaze thoughtful. ¡°Do you know the story of the Golden Silkworm?¡± she asked, her voice taking on a storytelling lilt. Marie nodded quickly. ¡°Yes, it¡¯s one of the teachings of the Absolute One to the Goddess Solious,¡± she said. ¡°The Absolute One believed in placing various venomous creatures into a sealed container and letting them fight until only one survived. The survivor, hardened and tested, would inherit its origin.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Ravenna said with a nod. ¡°But remember how the story ends? The Absolute One was ultimately defeated by the gods when they united against him. His downfall came at the hands of Saintess Lila.¡± Marie¡¯s eyes brightened as she recalled the tale. ¡°Saintess Lila was created by the gods, wasn¡¯t she? A being born from their combined essence, pure mana incarnate, able to insulate all forms of mana and nullify the Absolute One¡¯s powers.¡± Ravenna smiled, pleased with Marie¡¯s understanding. ¡°That¡¯s right. The Absolute One¡¯s idea worked, in a sense. The last surviving creature, Saintess Lila, was indeed the most powerful. It¡¯s the same principle Father follows: only the strongest, most capable ruler should ascend to the throne. Survival of the fittest, if you will.¡± Marie¡¯s expression grew more serious. ¡°But unlike the Absolute One, Emperor Andrew interferes in court politics, doesn¡¯t he?¡± Ravenna chuckled, standing and stretching lightly. ¡°That¡¯s because he¡¯s a man, not a higher being,¡± she said wryly. ¡°Now, enough politics for one morning. Let¡¯s visit the blacksmiths. I want to see how their work is progressing.¡± Marie¡¯s face lit up with eagerness as she rose to her feet. Her flowing dress shimmered slightly in the sunlight, the high slit and exposed midriff a stark contrast to the modest mainland fashions she had once favored. Ravenna couldn¡¯t help but smile, noticing how comfortable Marie had grown in her new attire. It was a small but meaningful sign that she was beginning to embrace the more extravagant and daring styles of the island.Stolen story; please report. ¡°Lead the way, Master!¡± Marie said cheerfully, her confidence adding an extra spring to her step. Court of the Council of Vassal States, Ancorna Empire, Capital of the Kingdom of Estra The Court of the Council of Vassal States of the Ancorna Empire was alive with activity. A sense of urgency permeated the air as messengers rushed to and fro, their voices mingling with the sharp clinking of armor. The security at the grand entrance had grown exponentially tighter, with soldiers from various factions bolstering the already formidable guard. The meeting convened today was no ordinary session. It was an emergency council summoned to address a grave matter: the emergence of an eight-floor dungeon within the Morgen Dukedom. This was no minor issue. Unlike routine gatherings where representatives deliberated on matters concerning the vassal kingdoms, today¡¯s meeting drew key figures from every corner of the empire. Even the Royal Prince of Estra, Finel Gustav, had chosen to attend in person, a rare display of the kingdom¡¯s commitment to the council. Finel, a striking figure in his late twenties with sharp features and an air of confidence, stood near the entrance of the council building. Dressed in regal attire adorned with Estra''s sigil, he exchanged words with one of the council ministers, his tone firm but courteous. Mid-conversation, his attention was drawn to the arrival of a carriage emblazoned with the imperial sigil. The carriage came to a halt before the grand steps, and a contingent of imperial guards formed a protective formation. The door opened, and out stepped a man whose presence immediately commanded respect. He had jet-black hair, neatly styled, and features that betrayed his youthful appearance, though he was known to be 32. His regal purple attire bore the sigil of the Goddess Solious crossing swords, marking him unmistakably as a member of the imperial family. Finel¡¯s lips curled into a smirk. ¡°Well, well, look who¡¯s decided to grace us with his presence,¡± he remarked as the man ascended the stairs. The newcomer returned the smile with a calm nod. ¡°It¡¯s been a while, Finel. How is your father, King Gustav?¡± ¡°Wonderful, as always,¡± Finel replied, his tone playful. ¡°So wonderful, in fact, I doubt even Goddess Herptian could seduce him into kicking the bucket.¡± Prince Landon Solarius chuckled, his deep voice resonating. ¡°That does sound like the King Gustav I remember.¡± The two princes exchanged a handshake, their camaraderie apparent. ¡°So,¡± Finel began, his tone becoming more serious, ¡°you¡¯re here to represent the imperial faction? I didn¡¯t expect Emperor Andrew to send someone from the imperial family. I thought he¡¯d delegate this to a general or perhaps a minister.¡± Landon smiled, his demeanor composed. ¡°He didn¡¯t exactly send me. I happened to be in the area, and Father thought it prudent to have me accompany Justice Minister Kimmel.¡± Finel nodded thoughtfully. ¡°A wise decision. Given the growing dissent among the vassal states¡¯ nobility toward the imperial court, having someone directly from the imperial family present might help ease tensions¡ªor at least provide clarity.¡± Landon¡¯s expression grew more serious as he acknowledged Finel¡¯s words. The rift between the vassal states and the Ancorna Empire had been widening for years, fueled by perceived neglect and unequal treatment. This meeting would likely be fraught with challenges. As their conversation continued, the sound of hooves clattering against stone drew their attention. Another party approached, this one bearing the imperial flag. Unlike Landon¡¯s formal entourage, this group was less ostentatious but equally disciplined. Most of the men were on horseback, their armor reflecting the sunlight. Leading the group was a man in his early or mid twenties, his striking features and dark black hair a mirror image of Landon¡¯s. He dismounted gracefully, his piercing gaze scanning the crowd before landing on his older brother. From the top of the stairs, Landon¡¯s lips curled into a faintly mocking smile. ¡°Look at that,¡± he said, loud enough for the younger man to hear. ¡°He must have spent quite a fortune to arrive here so quickly.¡± The younger man glanced up, his expression cool but sharp. ¡°Brother,¡± he greeted curtly. ¡°William,¡± Landon replied with a smile that carried equal parts amusement and challenge. The two princes locked eyes, the unspoken rivalry between them palpable. It was clear that the council¡¯s proceedings were about to take an even more intriguing turn. 30. Council of Vassal States Prince William tapped his foot repeatedly against the polished marble floor, his restlessness growing as the council session drew closer to commencement. The grand auditorium, a sprawling palace-like structure, buzzed with tension. At its heart stood a raised platform where the adjudicator¡¯s table awaited, poised for the coming deliberations. Encircling the central floor, hundreds of tiered seats climbed upward in concentric rows, their occupants representing the political factions of the vassal kingdoms and the imperial family. The seating was divided into five key factions: The Council of Vassal States was an entity unlike any other in the empire. Established during the creation of the Ancorna Empire over 700 years ago, it was a union of kingdoms that had voluntarily joined the empire in exchange for a degree of autonomy. In principle, decisions affecting the vassal states were made through a majority vote in council sessions, with the empire pledging to honor the council¡¯s rulings¡ªa cornerstone of the original pact. This pact had been devised by the empire¡¯s founder, who believed the council would devolve into infighting, weakening the vassal states and leading them to willingly surrender their autonomy. Yet, contrary to those expectations, the council remained united, wielding substantial influence. It held such power that, under imperial law, a unanimous vote could even dissolve the vassal states¡¯ ties to the empire entirely¡ªa topic increasingly whispered among the vassal nobility, though no formal motion for secession had ever been made. Seated among the Imperial Faction, Prince William was a striking presence. His sharp eyes scanned the rows of seats above, where his elder brother, Prince Landon, sat alongside the Justice Minister in the more prestigious section for speakers. Landon appeared to be engaged in a lively conversation, his composed demeanor exuding confidence. William gritted his teeth, his frustration boiling over. Somehow, Landon had convinced the Justice Minister to allow him to speak during the session¡ªa privilege rarely afforded to anyone outside the highest echelons of the imperial court. It was a maneuver William found unsurprising but infuriating. The ministers of the imperial court rarely concerned themselves with the southern vassal states, often treating their issues with calculated indifference. With a heavy, exasperated sigh, William turned to Eugene, seated beside him. ¡°You told me we¡¯d encounter a stroke of luck by coming here,¡± William muttered bitterly. ¡°And yet, look at that pompous bastard. He¡¯s going to speak for the imperial family and bask in the glory once the Morgen Dukedom situation is resolved.¡± Eugene, with a calm and calculating demeanor, offered a knowing smile. ¡°Patience, Your Highness. Landon may steal the spotlight for now, but that won¡¯t last. When we reach the Morgen Dukedom to eradicate the magical beasts, we will uncover something far greater. Something that will give you the edge you need in the succession.¡±Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. William huffed, his annoyance only partially abated by Eugene¡¯s reassurances. ¡°He always gets the upper hand,¡± he grumbled under his breath. Eugene leaned closer, his voice steady and deliberate. ¡°Do not underestimate fate, Your Highness. The imperial family has always thrived on perseverance and opportunity. This time will be no different.¡± Before William could respond, the resonant sound of a ceremonial staff striking the central table echoed through the grand auditorium, silencing the murmurs of the assembly. The adjudicator, a high priest of Solious stood tall, his flowing white robes adorned with intricate gold embroidery. His presence commanded reverence as his piercing gaze swept across the room. With deliberate authority, he began, ¡°Welcome, esteemed members of the council, to Session 1403, convened in the year 1804 following the Absolute Being¡¯s demise.¡± The hall grew utterly silent, save for the faint rustle of robes and whispers of anticipation. ¡°This session carries a weight far greater than most,¡± the adjudicator continued, his voice calm but grave. ¡°Today, higher-ranking representatives of each faction have assembled to address an urgent crisis threatening the stability of the vassal states. As dictated by our laws, let us proceed without undue deliberation.¡± Turning toward the high seats of the Estra Faction, he gestured respectfully. ¡°Prince Finel Gustav, representing the Kingdom of Estra, you have called forth this emergency meeting. Please enlighten us on the cause of this assembly.¡± Prince Finel Gustav, rose from his seat. With deliberate precision, he took a jasmine flower inscribed with faint magical runes from his pocket. Crushing it between his fingers, the runes shimmered briefly, amplifying his voice to carry across the vast hall. ¡°Honored members of the council,¡± Finel began, his tone formal yet edged with urgency. ¡°I once again offer my apologies for summoning this meeting on such short notice. However, the matter at hand demands immediate attention. We have received a direct report from Duke Morgen that an eight-floor dungeon has spawned within his territory. Given the unprecedented threat this poses, the royal court of Estra has deemed it imperative to act swiftly.¡± He paused, allowing the gravity of his words to sink in before continuing. ¡°Additionally, intelligence suggests that the Conley Empire may exploit this situation to advance into the mountainous regions of the Morgen Dukedom. Such a move could destabilize not only Estra but the entire region of vassal states.¡± The assembly erupted into murmurs, nobles and ministers exchanging concerned glances. The presence of a dungeon was already a perilous matter. The suggestion of foreign intervention heightened the stakes even further. From the imperial faction¡¯s seats, Prince Landon stood, his polished demeanor exuding authority. ¡°The imperial court shares your concerns, Prince Finel,¡± he declared, his voice amplified by magic. ¡°We recognize the dire implications of this situation and fully support mobilizing a large strike team to contain the dungeon¡¯s threat and prevent any encroachments into the Morgen Dukedom.¡± His statement, however, did not go unchallenged. A sharp voice rang out from the opposite side of the chamber, originating from the Foster Liam Faction¡¯s section. All eyes turned to Minister Ryan Frank, a prominent duke of the city-kingdom, who had become a vocal critic of imperial policies. ¡°With all due respect to the imperial court and the imperial family, Your Highness,¡± Ryan began, his tone edged with both defiance and decorum, ¡°it is highly inappropriate to rush into action merely because this dungeon lies within the territory of your uncle, Duke Morgen. This smacks of favoritism and undermines the autonomy of the vassal states.¡± The room buzzed with muted agreement from several factions, particularly those harboring growing discontent with imperial influence. Foster Liam, a thriving city-kingdom, had become a nexus for such dissent in recent years. Ryan pressed on, undeterred by the visible tension his words provoked. ¡°Furthermore, the claim of Conley¡¯s supposed advances into the mountains is purely speculative. We have yet to see a single shred of verifiable evidence to support this assertion. Prejudiced assumptions are a poor foundation for council decisions.¡± His gaze shifted briefly to the Estra delegation before returning to Landon. ¡°If anything, this matter should be considered an internal issue for the Kingdom of Estra to resolve independently. The council should not overstep its bounds in aiding a kingdom that has sufficient resources to address this on its own.¡± The chamber buzzed anew with debate, the sharp divide in opinion palpable. The adjudicator raised his staff again, the echo of its strike cutting through the noise. ¡°Order, esteemed members,¡± he commanded firmly, restoring silence. ¡°The council shall deliberate on the merits of the proposals presented. Let us proceed with measured discourse and uphold the unity upon which this body was founded.¡± 31. Saltpeter and Ice Northern Coastline of Jola, The salty breeze swept across the northern coastline of Jola as Richard and the other fishermen stood watching the knights laboring over a makeshift structure. A sloped bed of stones interspersed with branches was being carefully assembled, an essential step in producing ice¡ªvital for preserving the fish during their long journey back. Richard crossed his arms, his skeptical gaze fixed on the process. ¡°I still can¡¯t believe Her Highness¡¯s method actually worked,¡± he muttered, recalling the experiment they had conducted before departing on this expedition. Hughes nodded while issuing instructions to his men. ¡°It¡¯s nothing short of genius,¡± he admitted, his tone steady. ¡°But it¡¯s working, and that¡¯s all that matters. Now, enough gawking¡ªget moving. You need to start setting up traps for the magical beasts.¡± Richard gave a curt nod and rallied the fishermen. Together, they headed toward the coastline, where they began constructing a series of intricate traps designed to ensnare the Mira and Maverick fish. Meanwhile, the knights pressed on with their task. From pots they had carried with them, they retrieved foul-smelling seagull guano, carefully spreading it across the sloped stone bed. Despite the stench, they endured it, knowing the process was essential for their island¡¯s survival. ¡°Pour the water gently,¡± Hughes instructed, watching closely as the knights carefully trickled water onto the guano. The nitrates dissolved into a liquid that dripped into a container placed below the bed. They repeated the process several times until they had enough of the solution. The knights then poured the liquid into shallow containers and positioned them under the blazing afternoon sun. ¡°Now we wait for the water to evaporate,¡± Hughes explained, his voice calm but firm, ¡°leaving behind saltpeter crystals at the bottom. While that happens, we¡¯ll begin digging a small cave to freeze the water.¡± The knights responded with a unified nod, quickly shifting their focus to the sandy dunes nearby. Using shovels and their bare hands, they worked to carve out a small, airtight cave with a single entrance. The structure needed to retain as much cold as possible for their ice-making process to succeed. At the same time, the fishermen were busy with their own task. They set up a large net along the coastline, its mesh interwoven with small blades to trap and injure any magical beasts that might get caught. To enhance the trap¡¯s effectiveness, they carefully arranged torches in a deliberate pattern. ¡°The light will attract the fish,¡± Richard explained to the younger fishermen, his voice tinged with experience. ¡°And when the fish come, the magical beasts hunting them will follow. They¡¯ll get caught in the net¡ªand with any luck, the blades will take care of the rest.¡±This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. By the time the trap was complete, the sun had begun its descent toward the horizon, casting the coastline in hues of orange and gold. The knights, too, had made progress. They scraped saltpeter crystals from the shallow containers and stored them carefully, readying themselves for the next step in their experiment. Richard approached Hughes, wiping sweat from his brow. ¡°Ser Hughes, should we start setting up camp now?¡± Hughes nodded, dividing the knights into two groups. ¡°Half of you, start assembling the camp,¡± he ordered. ¡°The rest of us will begin the ice-making process.¡± The knights gathered water in earthen pots, wrapping each one in wet cloth to enhance the cooling effect. Carefully measured quantities of saltpeter were then dissolved into the water, lowering its freezing point. The prepared pots were carried into the sand dune cave, where they were carefully placed to ensure maximum exposure to the cold. ¡°By morning, the water should freeze into ice,¡± Hughes said with a rare smile, his confidence lifting the spirits of those around him. As the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon, the team worked together to complete their tasks. The knights pitched tents and lit campfires, while the fishermen double-checked the traps and prepared for the night¡¯s vigil. With the coastline bathed in the soft glow of moonlight and torches, Hughes stood overlooking the camp. Despite the challenges of the day, a sense of accomplishment hung in the air. Jola City, Blacksmith¡¯s Workshop The soft hum of the forge and the rhythmic clanging of hammers filled the air in the blacksmith''s workshop. Sparks flew as molten metal was shaped and molded with precision, casting a warm glow across the stone walls. In a quiet corner of the workshop, Ravenna and Marie sat, their expressions a mix of curiosity and impatience as they observed the work unfold. The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, and the workshop was illuminated by the flickering light of lanterns and the roaring forge. Despite the steady progress being made, the hours felt excruciatingly long to Ravenna, who finally broke the silence with an irritated tone. ¡°Nille, though you¡¯ve finished most of it, why the delay now?¡± she asked, her sharp voice cutting through the sounds of the workshop. Her arms were crossed, and her piercing gaze was fixed on the head blacksmith, who was hunched over a workbench. Nille straightened up, wiping the sweat from his brow. His hands were stained with soot, and his expression carried the weariness of a man who had been working tirelessly. Despite his exhaustion, he maintained a respectful tone as he replied, ¡°Just a moment more, Your Highness. We encountered a small mishap during the welding process, but it¡¯s nothing we can¡¯t fix. Give us a few more minutes, and we¡¯ll have it ready.¡± Ravenna raised an eyebrow, her impatience barely concealed. ¡°A mishap?¡± she repeated, her tone skeptical. Nille nodded nervously, gesturing toward a contraption on the workbench. It was a complex assembly of gears, springs, and levers¡ªan intricate mechanism that was clearly nearing completion. ¡°Yes, Your Highness. The welding didn¡¯t hold as well as we anticipated. We¡¯re reinforcing the joins now to ensure the integrity of the mechanism. Once this is done, you¡¯ll have the first working prototype of this.. Thing called a mechanical clock.¡± 32. Workings of a Spring As the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon of Jola Island, the faint but rhythmic ticking of a clock resonated from the blacksmith¡¯s workshop. It was a sound foreign to this era yet full of promise, a harbinger of progress born from sleepless dedication. At the heart of the workshop sat a small metal box, its coiled spring unwinding with precision, driving the intricate gears within. The prototype was simple, with only hour markings on its face, but its significance far outweighed its modest design. The hands of the clock moved steadily, a testament to the persistence of its creators. In a quiet corner of the workshop, Ravenna and Marie observed the marvel with keen interest. Marie¡¯s eyes sparkled as she watched the clock tick away, her amazement almost palpable. ¡°Master... it really moves on its own,¡± she said, her voice filled with awe. ¡°It was so worth waiting overnight for the blacksmiths to complete this.¡± Ravenna nodded, her lips curling into a rare smile as she watched the girl¡¯s excitement. ¡°Indeed,¡± she replied softly, her gaze briefly shifting to the tired but proud blacksmiths who had poured their hearts into the project. The workshop was alive with a quiet sense of triumph. The blacksmiths, covered in soot and sweat, stood nearby, their exhaustion overshadowed by the pride of their accomplishment. They had worked tirelessly through the night, fixing mistakes, fine-tuning the mechanism, and ensuring the clock would function as intended. Rather than her usual sharp critique or demanding remarks, Ravenna surprised everyone by addressing them with warmth. ¡°Good work, everyone,¡± she said, her tone carrying an uncharacteristic gentleness. ¡°You¡¯ve all earned a much-needed rest. Please make sure to take care of yourselves.¡± The blacksmiths exchanged startled glances, clearly unprepared for such praise. Nille, the head blacksmith, managed a hesitant response. ¡°Ah... yes, Your Highness. Thank you,¡± he stammered, bowing slightly before signaling his team to pack up. Ravenna¡¯s smile lingered as she watched them shuffle out, their steps heavy but their spirits high. This was more than a mechanical clock¡ªit was the first of its kind in this world, a groundbreaking innovation crafted not with the complex weight-driven escapement mechanisms like the first clocks on Earth but with a simpler spring escapement design. Its creation was no less impressive. The successful crafting of a spring mechanism opened a world of possibilities. Springs were a marvel in their own right, with potential applications spanning far beyond timekeeping. Ravenna envisioned automating labor-intensive tasks, streamlining production. This project was just the first step. Once her plans for a steam engine came to fruition, the possibilities for innovation would expand exponentially. The groundwork was being laid for a revolution in industry and daily life.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Marie¡¯s voice interrupted her musings. ¡°Master,¡± the girl began, her tone tinged with curiosity, ¡°will we be making a lot more of these? To align schedules across the island?¡± Ravenna glanced at Marie, a glimmer of amusement in her eyes. ¡°Eventually, yes,¡± she replied. ¡°But this clock is just the start. It¡¯s a teaching tool as much as it is an invention. The blacksmiths now have experience working with springs, which will be crucial for future projects. Timekeeping is important, but there¡¯s more we can do. Imagine machines that can assist in farming, weaving, or even construction. This clock is the first step toward making those dreams a reality.¡± Marie¡¯s eyes widened at that, her imagination running wild with the vision Ravenna painted though she didn¡¯t know how. Meanwhile Jola Island, Northern Coastline As the first light of dawn kissed the northern coastline of Jola Island, the fishermen stirred to life. The soft glow of the rising sun illuminated the waves, casting shimmering reflections that danced upon the waters. Torches, still burning from the night¡¯s labor, flickered in the cool morning breeze. Slowly, the fishermen moved to extinguish them, their work now lit by the sun¡¯s golden rays. It was time to check the nets. Men waded into the shallow waters, their boots splashing against the tide as they began the arduous task of reeling in the heavy, waterlogged nets. Grunts of effort filled the air, mingling with the gentle crash of waves. Horses were brought forward to aid the effort, their muscles straining against the weight as the nets were dragged inch by inch closer to shore. Suddenly, the tension in the ropes increased, and a collective murmur of excitement spread among the fishermen. ¡°We actually caught them!¡± someone shouted. The anticipation grew as the first glimmers of scales broke the surface. With a final heave, the nets came ashore, revealing the bounty of Mira Fish, the magical beasts with large, boar-sized bodies. Their shimmering scales reflected shades of silver and blue, and their purple eyes glowed faintly in the morning light. The creatures thrashed and flipped on the sand, their powerful tails leaving marks on the ground. Knives on the net worked, keeping them in place as the fishermen swiftly worked to secure the catch, cutting through the nets and ensuring none of the precious fish escaped. As the Mira Fish were hauled ashore, the catch grew even more impressive. Maverick Fish, as large as horses, emerged next. Their formidable front scales gleamed like polished armor, while their oddly shaped, paddle-like tails slapped against the ground in defiance. ¡°Oh, my goddess Herptian! There are so many of them!¡± exclaimed Richard, his voice filled with awe as the fishermen continued to pull more fish from the sea. Around him, smiles bloomed on every face. It was a rare sight among them for months, a catch of this magnitude meant prosperity for the island. Meanwhile, Hughes, standing among the knights overseeing the operation, turned to assess the preparations for preserving the haul. ¡°I¡¯ll check on the ice,¡± he said, striding purposefully toward the cave with several knights in tow. The small cave entrance was sealed with thick wooden doors to maintain its icy interior. As the knights unlatched and swung the doors open, a burst of cold air greeted them, cutting through the warmth of the morning. Inside, pots filled with water had frozen solid overnight, thanks to the ingenious cooling techniques employed. Hughes inspected the frozen containers, satisfied with the results. ¡°Alright, everyone!¡± Hughes barked as he stepped back outside, his voice carrying authority. ¡°Bring out the iron boxes the blacksmiths crafted. We¡¯ll pack the ice and fish together to preserve as much as we can. The rest of the fish needs to be smoked and salt-dried. Move quickly! We don¡¯t have much time before the sun starts warming things up!¡± ¡°Yes, Captain!¡± the knights replied in unison, their voices echoing off the cave walls as they sprang into action. 33. Kevin Morgen鈥檚 Loyalty Court of the Council of Vassal States, Ancorna Empire, Capital of the Kingdom of Estra The sun crept over the grand marble walls of the high security Court of the Council of Vassal States, casting long, golden rays across its elaborate corridors. Today marked the second day of the emergency session, and early arrivals clustered in quiet discussion, their hushed voices reverberating against the vaulted ceilings. Prince Landon Solarius, his posture straight but his expression strained, stood deep in conversation with Justice Minister Kimmel. Their dialogue seemed urgent, but their words were lost to the hum of the corridor¡¯s activity. It wasn¡¯t long before another figure approached them, his confident strides announcing his presence. ¡°Well, well, look who decided to be early today,¡± said Prince William. His smile carried an air of mockery, his tone sharp. ¡°Let¡¯s hope you¡¯re not the one speaking as the representative today. Perhaps Justice Minister Kimmel will spare us another disaster.¡± Landon gave his brother a polite yet icy smile. ¡°A very good morning to you too, brother.¡± William¡¯s words were a provocation, but they held true. Yesterday¡¯s session had been a disaster for Landon. He had found himself cornered by two opposing factions who accused the imperial court of favoritism for considering aid to the Morgen Dukedom. Their resistance had left the imperial faction faltering, with Landon¡¯s lack of negotiation skills laid bare for all to see. The stakes were high. Both brothers needed the Council¡¯s approval to send imperial forces to aid the dukedom. For Landon, success meant repairing his fragile reputation in the imperial court, while for William, it was an opportunity to further his growing influence in the ongoing succession battle for the throne. Justice Minister Kimmel, standing beside Landon, spoke up, his voice calm but firm. ¡°His Highness Landon is precisely discussing how we might achieve that today, Your Highness William.¡± Landon¡¯s expression flickered, revealing a mix of determination and self-awareness. He knew his shortcomings and had enlisted Kimmel¡¯s support to bridge the gap in his abilities today. Before William could retort, a familiar figure approached. Duke Kevin Morgen, maternal uncle to the Solarius princes, walked toward them. His measured steps and composed demeanor demanded attention, though his sharp eyes hinted at a subtle disdain. ¡°Good morning, Uncle Kevin,¡± Landon greeted warmly, bowing slightly. William followed suit, inclining his head. ¡°Good morning, Uncle.¡± Duke Kevin returned their greetings with a sardonic smile. ¡°Ah, good morning to you too, my dearly troubling nephews,¡± he said, his tone dripping with passive aggressiveness. Landon, undeterred, pressed forward. ¡°We were just discussing how to convince the Foster Liam faction to approve imperial aid. Your insight into the dire situation in your dukedom would be invaluable during the next audience. Perhaps you might speak on the matter?¡± William, ever observant, watched the exchange closely, his sharp mind piecing together to figure out his next moves. Duke Kevin¡¯s smile did not waver, but his response was laced with thinly veiled hostility. ¡°I would not do such a thing, Your Highness. I am quite confident that the Kingdom of Estra and my dukedom are capable of handling this matter without interference.¡±Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Both princes exchanged puzzled glances, their expressions tinged with disbelief. ¡°But¡­ this session was convened because of the request for imperial aid,¡± Landon said, his tone hesitant. The duke¡¯s demeanor shifted slightly, his words now carrying a calculated edge. ¡°I am not as clever as my late sister, your mother, the Empress Dahlia Solarius, but I am clever enough to recognize a scheme when I see one.¡± He paused, glancing around subtly to ensure no prying ears were present before continuing. ¡°I sent my request for mages directly to the imperial court. Yet somehow, Prince Finel intercepted it and called an emergency session. Curious, isn¡¯t it?¡± The implication was clear, even though the words were vague. Duke Kevin¡¯s sharp gaze landed on Landon, and his meaning struck like a thunderclap. ¡°It seems someone intends to make this situation far larger than it is,¡± the duke continued, his tone venomously polite. ¡°Someone who would gain significant favor among the nobility for resolving it. Securing imperial aid for the Morgen Dukedom, dealing with the Conley Empire, and ¡®heroically¡¯ assisting with the eighth-floor dungeon might just bolster such a person¡¯s standing, wouldn¡¯t it?¡± William¡¯s expression remained neutral, though inwardly, he smirked at how precisely Duke Kevin had deduced Landon¡¯s motives. Landon¡¯s plan to use this crisis to elevate himself in the court was unraveling before his eyes. Duke Kevin, ever the tactician, added one final blow before departing. ¡°Oh, and one more thing. I remain fiercely loyal to Ravenna, as per your mother¡¯s wishes. In case you were wondering, her health is fine. She suffered a mild illness upon arriving at Jola Island but has since recovered. Alive and well, thankfully.¡± The mention of Ravenna hung heavy in the air. Duke Kevin¡¯s loyalty to her was unwavering, even in her absence. The duke¡¯s spies had kept him informed of Ravenna¡¯s condition, and his idea of planting message flowers, disguised as from William and Emperor Andrew, ensured she knew someone was watching her and Duke Kevin thought as a clever person Ravenna would have already figured out it was him. With a curt nod, Duke Kevin turned and strode into the council chamber, leaving the two princes standing in his wake. Landon¡¯s fists clenched at his sides, his expression dark with frustration. While William was shocked he was sure he had poisoned Ravenna before her departure to Jola island, she should be dead by now but apparently she is alive and well? Lord¡¯s Castle, Jola City, Jola Island Ravenna slumped over her ornate desk, the soft golden light from the hanging chandelier casting flickering shadows across the room. Her study was richly adorned, filled with shelves of books, an assortment of maps sprawled on the table, and an untouched cup of tea growing cold beside her. She rested her head in her hands, frustration evident in the way her fingers raked through her long, dark hair. "Ugh... What is wrong with these people?!" she growled, her voice echoing off the polished stone walls. It wasn¡¯t the first time she had vented her frustrations to the silent, unfeeling surroundings. Jola Island¡¯s been plagued by a constant high crime rate. Despite her best efforts to restore order, every new anti-crime policy she introduced seemed to crumble against the sheer audacity of the island¡¯s lawbreakers. "Am I leading a city or babysitting criminals?" she muttered under her breath, glaring at the documents piled high in front of her. They were reports from her knights: lists of stolen goods, sexual assaults, and increasingly bold crimes. It was a tide she could barely hold back, and the strain was starting to show. [ Reputation System v0.1 ] The faint glow of the system interface appeared before her, the translucent panel hovering in the air. Ravenna rubbed her temples and stared at it with a mixture of resignation and irritation. User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (8021/8200) Current Reputation Points: 2,321 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } ¡°And my points... they''re dropping so fast,¡± she groaned, swiping her hand through the air to scroll through the interface. The holographic text shifted fluidly under her command, and she studied it with a critical eye. "I can¡¯t keep spending hours surfing through the internet to solve this one single issue, it¡¯s eating away all the points." 34. Ascend to Celestia Castle [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (8021/8200) Current Reputation Points: 2,321 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } ¡°And my points... they''re dropping so fast,¡± she groaned, swiping her hand through the air to scroll through the interface. The holographic text shifted fluidly under her command, and she studied it with a critical eye. "I can¡¯t keep spending hours surfing through the internet to solve this one single issue, it¡¯s eating away all the points." Leaning back in her chair, she let out a long, exasperated sigh. The reports on her desk crime statistics only added to the weight pressing down on her. The constant high crime rate on Jola Island felt like an insurmountable problem, one that no amount of policies or ideas could magically solve. ¡°Maybe I should do public executions,¡± she mused aloud, her voice low and contemplative. The thought lingered in the air. ¡°It would give me more reputation points and send a clear message to the criminals¡­¡± She trailed off, tapping her fingers rhythmically on the polished wood of her desk. But even as the idea formed, Ravenna dismissed it with a shake of her head. ¡°No, it won¡¯t work. Fear might make them fall in line for a while, but it¡¯ll only last until public executions become just another routine spectacle. People adapt to fear, and then it stops being effective.¡± Her mind raced for alternative solutions. ¡°A fear of the divine might work,¡± she muttered thoughtfully. ¡°I¡¯ll have to speak with High Priest James.. About it.¡± Then, Ravenna turned her attention to another pressing issue: securing an external source of revenue for Jola Island. Her dark black eyes fell on the large map sprawled across her desk, the intricate lines detailing the coastline and trade routes of the Ancorna Empire. ¡°Everything will be a big deal,¡± she muttered, tracing her finger along the map. Most of the surrounding towns and trade hubs were either loyal to Prince Landon or Prince William. Even if she managed to convince merchants to trade with her, selling iron or steel being highly valuable resources in this era¡ªwould undoubtedly attract unwanted attention. If her influence grew too much, the other imperial siblings would focus on her again, convinced that she was re-entering the imperial succession race. ¡°I don¡¯t want to get involved in the main story of the novel at all!¡± Ravenna groaned, slumping forward dramatically onto her desk. Salt, again being another valuable trade commodity, wasn¡¯t an option either. The market was oversaturated in the empire, with three sides of the Ancorna Empire bordered by coastlines that produced most of the salt and spices on the continent. ¡°Everything I think of leads to a wall,¡± she muttered, placing her head in her hands. The weight of her responsibilities was suffocating, and every potential solution felt like it came with its own set of impossible hurdles. Just as she was about to bury herself deeper in thought, a sharp knock echoed from the door, pulling her back to the present. ¡°Master! I¡¯m here,¡± came a cheerful voice from the other side of the door. Ravenna recognized it immediately. It was Marie, her young and eager disciple, here as usual to learn under Ravenna¡¯s guidance. ¡°Come in,¡± Ravenna called out, sitting up and straightening her posture. The large wooden door creaked open, and Marie stepped inside, her chestnut brown hair shining in the afternoon light. She was carrying a wooden board of some kind, her expression bright and excited.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°What¡¯s that?¡± Ravenna asked, raising an eyebrow as she gestured toward the board. Marie placed it on the desk with a smile. ¡°It¡¯s a game! Everyone in the church¡¯s study classes has been playing it. And from what I heard, everyone on Jola Island plays it too!¡± Ravenna leaned forward, intrigued. The board Marie had brought was simple yet elegantly designed, it''s dark wood polished to a shine. Intricate carvings lined the cross-shaped playing field, with tiny embellishments that hinted at divine symbolism. As her fingers brushed across the surface, she noticed the title etched at the top in delicate, flowing script. ¡°Ascend to Celestia Castle¡± Ravenna murmured, her deep dark eyes narrowing thoughtfully. ¡°Herptian Faith¡¯s traditional board game? Yeah, I¡¯ve heard of this.¡± Marie¡¯s face lit up with excitement. ¡°You know it? That¡¯s perfect! Let¡¯s play a round!¡± she chirped, setting the bag of game pieces and cowrie shells on the table. Ravenna chuckled softly, leaning back in her chair. ¡°Sure, why not? It¡¯s a good distraction from all the chaos.¡± As she reached for the bag, her mind briefly wandered to the game¡¯s origins. Ascend to Celestia Castle was no ordinary pastime. It was said to have been created during the era of the gods, a time when the Absolute Being ruled the world in what the scriptures described as an age of chaos. According to Herptian Faith, the game symbolized Goddess Herptian¡¯s perilous journey to Celestia Castle, where she ascended to discuss the state of the world under the Absolute Being¡¯s turbulent reign. Each element of the game, from the cross-shaped board to the cowrie shells used as dice, was steeped in religious significance. ¡°So, do you have the cowrie shells?¡± Ravenna asked, inspecting the game pieces Marie had begun placing on the board. Marie nodded eagerly, pulling out a small, weathered pouch. ¡°Here!¡± she said, handing it over. Ravenna took the shells, admiring their smooth texture, and placed her four pieces at the center of the board¡¯s cross. ¡°From what I remember, I need to kill at least one of your pieces before I can ascend to Celestia Castle, right?¡± Marie nodded, her tone eager as she explained. ¡°Exactly! Players move their pieces starting from the center, heading down the middle track to exit Celestia Castle. Then we move counterclockwise around the outer track until we make a full circuit back to the center. But you can¡¯t enter the castle unless you¡¯ve killed at least one of your opponent¡¯s pieces.¡± Ravenna smirked, rolling the cowrie shells to determine her first move. ¡°Alright then, I¡¯ll go first. Prepare to be defeated, Marie.¡± Marie grinned mischievously. ¡°You¡¯re underestimating me, Master! I¡¯ll have you begging for mercy by the end of this!¡± The game began, and soon the room was filled with the clattering sound of cowrie shells and playful banter. For the next two and a half hours, the pair engaged in a fierce battle of wits and luck. Marie¡¯s enthusiasm was infectious, and Ravenna found herself laughing more than she had in weeks. There were moments of comedic brilliance, like when a crucial roll sent Marie¡¯s piece straight into Ravenna¡¯s path, resulting in a dramatic ¡°kill¡± and a round of exaggerated protests from Marie. Other times, they yelled in frustration at poor rolls or debated over strategies with mock-seriousness. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the room in warm hues of orange and gold, the game reached its climax. Ravenna¡¯s final piece was just a few spaces away from victory, while Marie¡¯s last piece lagged slightly behind. Ravenna rolled the shells one last time and moved her piece triumphantly into the castle. ¡°Finally! My last piece ascends to Celestia Castle!¡± she declared, throwing her hands up in victory. Marie groaned dramatically, slumping against the table. ¡°No! If I had just rolled a one, I would¡¯ve won before you!¡± Ravenna smirked, taunting her with a playful grin. ¡°Well, you didn¡¯t. Better luck next time, Marie.¡± As they tidied up the board, Marie pouted. ¡°You know, I should¡¯ve made you bet something. It would¡¯ve been way more fun if there were stakes. Without a prize, I wasn¡¯t playing seriously!¡± Ravenna chuckled, shaking her head. ¡°Sure, Marie. The real issue was your lack of motivation, not your terrible strategies.¡± But as she teased her apprentice, an idea began to form in her mind. Her playful grin shifted into a thoughtful expression, and her eyes gleamed with sudden inspiration. ¡°Wait¡­¡± she murmured, sitting up straight. ¡°Gambling.¡± Marie blinked, startled by the change in Ravenna¡¯s demeanor. ¡°M-Master? Why do you have that¡­ look on your face? What are you thinking?¡± Ravenna rose from her chair, her earlier stress replaced by a newfound determination. ¡°Marie, go find Sarah and tell her to gather all the woodworkers and blacksmiths in town. We¡¯re going to start producing board games.¡± Marie tilted her head, confused. ¡°Board games? Why would we¡ª¡± ¡°And,¡± Ravenna continued, her grin turning almost devilish, ¡°we¡¯re going to open a gambling house.¡± Marie¡¯s jaw dropped. ¡°A g-gambling house? Master, are you serious?¡± 35. The Coastal Town of Ronin Nille sat nervously across from Ravenna in the blacksmith¡¯s workshop. The air was thick with the scent of burning coal and the metallic clang of hammers striking steel. The man fidgeted with his hands, his usually steady demeanor faltering under Ravenna¡¯s piercing gaze. ¡°We can certainly make what you¡¯re asking for, Your Highness,¡± Nille began, his voice shaky as he chose his words carefully. ¡°But with all the projects we¡¯re currently working on¡ªand the lack of manpower¡ªit just won¡¯t be possible right now.¡± He glanced up at her cautiously, knowing all too well how unforgiving Ravenna¡¯s temper could be. Ravenna tapped her fingers on the table, her expression unreadable. The tension in the room grew heavier with each passing moment. Finally, she leaned back in her chair and sighed, her tone sharp but measured. ¡°Hmm, you¡¯re right,¡± she said after a moment of thought. ¡°The steam engine takes priority. Once it¡¯s completed, it¡¯ll help with mass production, which should free up your workload.¡± Nille nodded quickly, relief evident in his voice. ¡°Yes, Your Highness. We¡¯ll ensure the steam engine is built properly and on schedule.¡± Ravenna had come here with a specific purpose: to order the creation of slot machines. With the recent invention of springs, the idea of mechanical gambling devices had become feasible. If she wanted to make her gambling house in the mainland empire a profitable venture, these machines would be essential. In this world, gambling houses and casinos were luxuries reserved for nobility. Lavish establishments catered to the upper class, offering games of chance alongside fine wine and extravagant entertainment. For the commoners, gambling was a far humbler affair, confined to backroom taverns and small betting games at drinking bars. It was a pastime, not a spectacle. Ravenna, however, envisioned something far grander. She saw an opportunity to revolutionize entertainment for the lower classes¡ªan untapped market. For the peasants, entertainment was a rare luxury, scarce and often inaccessible. A gambling house, complete with slot machines and other games, could change that. It would provide not just distraction, but a sense of excitement and profit for the island. But for now, her plans would have to wait. ¡°Fine,¡± she said with a wave of her hand, rising from her seat. ¡°We¡¯ll wait a month. Just make sure the steam engine is built to perfection. I don¡¯t want any setbacks.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Highness,¡± Nille replied, bowing deeply as she turned to leave. The Coastal Town of Ronin, Across the sea from Jola Island, in the mainland empire of Ancorna The coastal town of Ronin glimmered under the fading light of the setting sun. The town¡¯s cobbled streets were bustling with the evening crowd¡ªfishermen hauling in their last catch, merchants packing up their wares, and children laughing as they chased each other through the narrow alleys. At the edge of the town stood the lord¡¯s mansion, a grand yet slightly weathered estate overlooking the harbor. Its stone walls were covered in creeping ivy, and the warm glow of candlelight spilled out from the tall windows.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Inside the mansion¡¯s study, Viscountess Jessica Ronin sat at her desk, surrounded by stacks of parchment and bound reports. Her auburn hair was pulled into a neat braid, though a few strands had escaped, framing her tired face. She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples as she scanned the latest batch of reports. The soft crackle of the fireplace behind her provided the only sound in the room, a faint comfort in the growing silence as the sun dipped below the horizon. Jessica sighed heavily, setting down the parchment in her hand. The document detailed the financial expenses of the viscounty over the past few months, including the costs of hosting Princess Ravenna and her entourage in the finest inn Ronin could provide during her travel to exile. Though the sum was a mere fraction of the viscounty¡¯s overall expenditures, Jessica¡¯s disdain for the princess made it feel like an unbearable stain on their coffers. ¡°As if we didn¡¯t have enough problems,¡± Jessica muttered, her tone laced with venom. Jessica and her house, loyal supporters of Prince William, harbored a deep resentment for Ravenna. Hosting her had been a bitter pill to swallow, one forced upon them by imperial politics. Had it been her choice, she would have turned the princess away without a second thought. After glaring at the report for another moment, Jessica pushed it aside and turned her attention to another stack of papers. Her frustration only grew as she read through a new report detailing Prince William¡¯s recent activities in the capital. ¡°What in the world is Prince William doing?¡± she muttered under her breath, her eyes narrowing as she absorbed the details. The prince had begun dismantling the black markets and eradicating the slave trade in the capital, a move clearly designed to bolster his reputation among both the nobility and the common people. His efforts were lauded as heroic, but to the Ronin family, it was nothing short of a disaster. The Ronins had long-standing ties to the criminal syndicate Hericules, supplying slaves for the illicit auctions that lined the syndicate¡¯s coffers. Prince William¡¯s campaign threatened to expose their dealings and unravel the delicate web of influence they had built over the years. Jessica clenched her fist, her knuckles whitening. ¡°He most certainly wants to make an example of the house responsible,¡± she said bitterly. ¡°A scapegoat for his crusade, a means to cement his reputation as the savior who eradicated the slave trade in the capital.¡± Her thoughts were interrupted by a firm knock at the door. ¡°Enter,¡± she called, her voice sharp. The door opened to reveal her father, Edward Ronin, the former lord of the viscounty. His silver hair and weathered face bore the marks of a man who had weathered countless storms, though his sharp eyes still held a calculating glint. He stepped inside, carrying a rolled-up report in his hand. ¡°Jessica, my dear, look at this,¡± he said, striding to her desk and laying the document before her. Jessica unfurled the parchment and scanned its contents. Her eyes widened slightly as she read. ¡°So, he¡¯s gone to the Estra Kingdom for an emergency session of the Council of Vassal States?¡± Edward nodded gravely. ¡°Yes. This might be our chance to act. If we move quickly, we can dispose of the 2,000 slaves we¡¯re holding and cut all ties with Hericules. By the time Prince William returns and resumes his crusade, we¡¯ll have erased all evidence of our involvement.¡± Jessica¡¯s eyes narrowed as she considered her father¡¯s words. It was a golden opportunity to protect their family from the prince¡¯s ¡°heroic¡± acts. They couldn¡¯t afford to be the scapegoat he needed to solidify his legacy. ¡°But¡­¡± Jessica¡¯s voice trailed off as her mind raced. ¡°Where can we possibly move 2,000 slaves without being caught? Transporting that many people would draw far too much attention.¡± Her gaze drifted to the map spread across her desk. Suddenly, her lips curled into a sly smirk. ¡°Father,¡± she said, her tone laced with excitement. Edward raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Jessica tapped a spot on the map¡ªthe island of Jola. ¡°Why don¡¯t we attack Jola?¡± 36. Attack Plan on Jola Island Jessica tapped a spot on the map¡ªthe island of Jola. ¡°Why don¡¯t we attack Jola?¡± Edward¡¯s brows furrowed, and his voice carried a mixture of confusion and apprehension. ¡°What are you saying, Jessica? Attack the dukedom of an Imperial Princess? That¡¯s madness!¡± Jessica sighed, leaning back in her chair with a frustrated look. ¡°Father, think logically. How else do you propose we dispose of 2,000 slaves without attracting attention? If we move them inland using carriages, it would be far too conspicuous. The Imperial Court would sniff us out before we got halfway to our destination.¡± Edward shook his head, his fingers curling into fists. ¡°You¡¯re suggesting we provoke an Imperial dukedom. Ravenna may be exiled, but she¡¯s still an Imperial Princess. If we march into her lands, she¡¯ll inform the capital. Her word carries enough weight to have us arrested and executed for treason.¡± Jessica¡¯s eyes gleamed with cold determination. ¡°Not if it looks like the work of pirates,¡± she countered, leaning forward to tap the map again. ¡°Jola is isolated, far removed from the Empire¡¯s core territories. She¡¯s stationed there with only 300 knights for protection, hardly enough to fend off a large assault. We could send 500 of our knights along with 300 of Hericules¡¯ mercenaries, posing as a pirate raid. They attack, dump the slaves: dead or alive on the island, and capture Princess Ravenna. Once she¡¯s in our custody, we can stage a ransom exchange at Ronin¡¯s port. It will appear as though pirates attacked her, and her testimony would support that narrative.¡± Edward¡¯s face paled at the audacity of her plan. ¡°Jessica¡­ are you hearing yourself? You want to attack an Imperial Princess¡¯s territory, dump thousands of slaves there, and kidnap the Imperial Princess? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? Even if we succeed in capturing her, if she figures out it¡¯s us, her testimony could still expose us later.¡± Jessica¡¯s expression hardened, her voice dropping to a sharper tone. ¡°Father, listen carefully. You said it yourself¡ªher testimony carries significant weight. That¡¯s exactly why we need her to confirm the pirate¡¯s involvement. If anyone accuses us of being tied to the slave auctions, her word that it was a pirate attack will outweigh any other evidence. She¡¯s the perfect solution for our problems right now.¡± Edward hesitated, his doubt still lingering. ¡°But the Emperor and the court won¡¯t just let Jola fall to pirates, Jessica. The island has strategic importance. They¡¯d respond swiftly to any attack.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not suggesting we occupy the island,¡± Jessica replied calmly. ¡°Our objective isn¡¯t conquest¡ªit¡¯s disposal and distraction. The knights and mercenaries won¡¯t stay to hold Jola; their task is to ensure the slaves are left on the island and Ravenna is taken. Once she¡¯s in our hands, we¡¯ll stage the ransom exchange. By the time the court realizes what¡¯s happened, it will already be too late for them to pin anything on us.¡± Edward rubbed his temples, his unease growing. ¡°And what if Ravenna sends an emergency magical message to the Imperial Palace? The court would dispatch reinforcements immediately.¡± Jessica waved her hand dismissively. ¡°We¡¯ll cut off access to Ronin Town. It¡¯s the most logical port for launching an expedition to Jola, and we control it. We can fabricate a reason, say, a natural disaster like a fire or severe flooding¡ªto block entry for a few days. By the time they start to enter the town, the operation will already be complete.¡±This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. Edward paced the room, his boots clacking against the polished wooden floor. ¡°This is far too risky, Jessica. If anything goes wrong, it will mean the end of our house. You¡¯re gambling with everything.¡± Jessica stood, her voice unwavering. ¡°Father, keeping 2,000 slaves here while Prince William dismantles the black markets is far more dangerous. Every moment we delay increases the risk of exposure. This is our only viable option. If we don¡¯t act now, When Prince William is away, we¡¯ll be the ones he uses as scapegoats to build his so-called ¡®heroic reputation.¡¯ Are you really willing to sit and wait for that to happen?¡± Edward stopped pacing and turned to face his daughter. He could see the resolute determination in her eyes, the same fire that had driven her to rise as the head of the family. She was right¡ªthere was no other option. ¡°Fine,¡± he said with a heavy sigh. ¡°But understand this, Jessica: if we fail, there won¡¯t be a second chance. The Ronin family¡¯s survival rests on your shoulders now.¡± Jessica nodded, her smirk returning. ¡°Then let¡¯s make sure we don¡¯t fail.¡± Herptian Church, Jola City, Jola Island Sunlight filtered through the stained-glass windows, casting vibrant patterns of red and gold on the polished wooden table between two figures. High Priest James and Princess Ravenna sat across from each other in the modest yet dignified meeting cabin of the Herptian Church. Ravenna leaned back slightly in her chair, her expression composed yet commanding. Today¡¯s discussion was critical¡ªshe had come to address two pressing issues: the city''s urban development and its current crime rate. James folded his hands on the table, listening attentively as she spoke. ¡°And your proposed solution involves public executions combined with Herptian ceremonial rituals?¡± he asked, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Yes,¡± Ravenna replied firmly. ¡°The ceremony will add a divine weight to the punishment, making it clear that the condemned are being judged by the Goddess Herptian herself, not just the laws of men.¡± James frowned, shaking his head slightly. ¡°I understand the intent, Your Highness, but I fear it may not have the impact you hope for. Goddess Herptian, while revered by her followers, is not exactly known for being a virtuous deity like Solious or the other gods. Her myths speak of her disdain for evildoers, yes, but...¡± ¡°...but Herptian¡¯s definition of ¡®evildoers¡¯ is quite different from other faiths,¡± Ravenna finished for him, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. James nodded gravely. This was the crux of the issue. Unlike the more universally respected deities, Herptian was a complex and often controversial figure. The Goddess of Indulgence was known for her lustful nature, her penchant for theft, and her willingness to kill on a whim¡ªall actions glorified in her legends. Convincing the public that such a goddess would judge criminals with divine authority was no simple task. ¡°That¡¯s not the only complication,¡± James continued hesitantly, his voice dropping. ¡°There¡¯s also... the matter of your lineage. As an Imperial Princess, you are a direct descendant of Goddess Solious. For you to speak on behalf of the Herptian Church... well, it might be seen as... conflicting.¡± Ravenna chuckled softly, her golden eyes glinting with amusement. ¡°Ah, yes. The Imperial Daughter, blessed by the virtuous Solious, preaching the will of Herptian, the goddess of indulgence. Quite the paradox, isn¡¯t it?¡± James shifted uncomfortably in his seat, unsure how to respond. The silence lingered for a moment before Ravenna leaned forward slightly, her smile widening. ¡°But what if...¡± she began, her tone teasing yet deliberate. Before James could process her words, Ravenna stood gracefully, the long slit in her dark maxi dress parting as she lifted its edge slightly to reveal her thigh. James averted his eyes immediately, his cheeks flushing as he muttered something incoherent about decorum. But something caught his attention¡ªa symbol etched into her skin, glowing faintly with a deep crimson hue. His gaze returned despite himself, widening in shock as realization dawned. Ravenna smirked, her voice smooth as silk. ¡°What if I told you, your holiness, that I am not just a princess of Soliou''s bloodline... but an Apostle of Goddess Herptian herself?¡± 37. Apostle of Herptian The Apostle marks are an integral part of the world¡¯s faiths and power structure, playing a pivotal role in the story of Light¡¯s Conquest. These marks, unique to the twelve gods, symbolized divine favor and were said to be bestowed upon a chosen few at birth. Each god had a distinct Apostle symbol that represented their nature, and the individuals bearing these marks were regarded as living embodiments of the deity¡¯s will. The marks were rare, appearing in only 5 to 8 percent of the population worldwide. Those who bore them were granted honorary priesthood in their respective faiths, bypassing the rigorous training required of ordinary priests. The presence of the mark alone was considered proof of divine blessing and was enough to grant them a position of reverence and authority within their faith. It was widely believed that the Apostle marks reflected a person¡¯s intrinsic nature. For instance, Solious, the Goddess of the Sun and Light, was said to bless individuals of just and virtuous character. However, the faiths also agreed that mortal lives were subject to corruption. Even those favored by the gods could stray from their path, which was why mortal laws remained above divine favor in practice. In Light¡¯s Conquest, Eugene, the protagonist, was the Apostle of Solious, and his mark symbolized his role as the champion of light, hence the title of the novel. However, Ravenna¡¯s case was an anomaly¡ªa contradiction so profound that it had shaped her life in ways she could never escape. Ravenna had been born with the Apostle mark of Herptian, the Goddess of Indulgence, despite being a direct descendant of Solious, the Virtuous Goddess of Sun and Light. This single fact had rendered her a problem within her own family. The imperial family, deeply entwined with the faith of Solious, could not afford for such a scandalous truth to become public. The descendant of the virtuous goddess marked by Herptian, a deity known for her indulgent, lustful, and hedonistic nature? It would have shattered their reputation. To protect their image, they had kept Ravenna¡¯s mark hidden, distancing themselves from her as much as possible. For Ravenna, this rejection had been a defining feature of her life. The court whispered of her as a walking disaster, a living stain on the imperial family¡¯s reputation. This is why she adapted into a ruthless and spoiled personality as she grew up making the mark¡¯s judgement true. Ravenna¡¯s lips curled into a smile as she sat across from High Priest James in the meeting cabin of the Herptian Church. The dim candlelight cast flickering shadows across the room, and the air was heavy with the scent of aged wood and incense. James, visibly shaken, stared at her in disbelief. ¡°Wh... Why reveal it now?¡± he stammered, his voice trembling with both curiosity and apprehension. Ravenna leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs with deliberate ease. ¡°Because it doesn¡¯t matter anymore,¡± she replied, her tone light but undercut with a trace of mockery. ¡°I¡¯ve already been exiled. They¡¯ve cut me off from the family, stripped me of everything that tied me to them. Whether the world knows I¡¯m an Apostle of Herptian or not, it won¡¯t change my position. I¡¯m already the disgraced princess who killed her own mother. What¡¯s one more scandal at this point?¡±If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. James lowered his gaze, nodding slowly. She was right. The imperial family had already written her off. If the truth of her mark were revealed now, it would merely add fuel to the fires of gossip and scandal, but it wouldn¡¯t change her fate¡ªor theirs. She was no longer a contender for the throne, and the palace no longer cared for her existence. As James remained silent, Ravenna¡¯s thoughts drifted. ¡°Emperor Andrew must have thought he was clever,¡± she mused internally. ¡°Sending Ravenna to Jola Island for exile, assuming that the Herptian Church would take care of her once they discovered she bore Herptian¡¯s mark. But how could he have guessed that William had poisoned her before she even left the palace? In the original novel, Ravenna never made it to Jola alive. She died before she could claim her place among Herptian¡¯s Faith and live a quiet life away.¡± Returning her focus to James, she allowed a small, sly smile to tug at her lips. ¡°So,¡± she began, her voice smooth and commanding, ¡°if we reveal my mark and use it strategically, do you think the ritual might succeed after all?¡± James blinked, the question snapping him from his reverie. For a moment, he considered her words. Then, a slow smile spread across his face. ¡°It just might,¡± he admitted, the tension in his shoulders easing. As the meeting concluded, Ravenna rose gracefully from her seat. The Herptian Church¡¯s meeting cabin, modest but dignified, stood silent behind her as she stepped out into the warm evening air. The scent of salt from the nearby coast lingered, carried by a gentle breeze that tugged at her. Waiting outside were two familiar faces Sarah and Marie flanked by a few knights in armor. Their presence was an odd sight, Ravenna¡¯s sharp gaze quickly took in the scene, an absence. Raising an eyebrow, she addressed them. ¡°Where is Alice?¡± she asked, her tone calm but laced with curiosity. Marie, perked up immediately. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she stepped forward. ¡°Master,¡± she began, practically bouncing on her heels, ¡°she went to greet the crew returning from the northern coastline! Ser Hughes and his knights have just returned!¡± The enthusiasm in her voice was unmistakable, and Ravenna couldn¡¯t help but chuckle softly. It was clear Marie was eager to join her. The girl¡¯s habit of tagging along on such occasions had become something of a tradition, and Ravenna saw no reason to break it now. ¡°Well,¡± Ravenna said, her lips curving into a faint smile, ¡°it¡¯s about time they returned.¡± She turned to Sarah, her expression shifting to one of composed authority. ¡°Sarah, there are some preparations that need to be made. Speak with His Holiness James and ensure everything is handled properly. I trust you¡¯ll take care of it.¡± Sarah bowed deeply, her voice steady and respectful. ¡°Yes, Your Highness. I¡¯ll see to it immediately.¡± Ravenna nodded before turning her attention back to Marie. The young girl¡¯s eyes were practically shining with anticipation. ¡°Come on,¡± Ravenna said with a slight tilt of her head. ¡°Let¡¯s see what Hughes and his crew have brought back. Get in the carriage.¡± Marie¡¯s face lit up, and she beamed with delight. ¡°Yes, Master!¡± she exclaimed, her excitement spilling over as she hurried to climb into the waiting carriage. 38. Return From Northern Coastline Hughes and his crew rode into the city with their horses and heavily laden carriages, the familiar sandy winds brushing past them. Though it had only been three weeks since they had left for the northern coastline, the city of Jola had undergone remarkable changes. The arid desert air still carried its characteristic dryness, and the golden sands stretched endlessly, but now there was something entirely foreign to this once-barren city¡ªgreenery. Patches of green dotted the landscape every few meters, a surreal sight in the heat of the desert. Sea-bed soil farms had begun to yield results, with potatoes and other root vegetables sprouting in neat rows. For a moment, Hughes thought they had ridden into one of the lush mainland cities of Ancorna, but the gritty sand carried on the wind quickly reminded him they were still in Jola. Construction projects dotted the cityscape, though many were clearly left incomplete. Half-built structures, made of brick and cement, blended Romanesque designs with large domes meant to combat the oppressive desert heat. The foundations stood stark against the sand, with scaffolding abandoned and no workers in sight. ¡°It looks like they¡¯re still working on these,¡± Richard remarked as he rode alongside him, his eyes scanning the abandoned construction sites. Hughes furrowed his brow, shaking his head slightly. ¡°I don¡¯t think so,¡± he replied, his gaze shifting toward the distant port. ¡°Unlike the port area, where you can see tents and workers everywhere, this part looks... deserted.¡± Richard nodded thoughtfully but said nothing more, his attention turning back to the road ahead. Ravenna had envisioned a modern urban layout with better housing, efficient infrastructure, and a design that would improve the lives of the citizens. However, those plans had been halted abruptly with the arrival of the uninvited ship carrying the Herptian priests. That incident made Ravenna recognize the city¡¯s vulnerabilities. The poorly fortified port was a glaring weakness, especially with the unpredictable arrival of ships that could reach their shores unnoticed until it was too late. She had immediately redirected all available workers to focus on fortifying the port, setting aside her grand vision for the city¡¯s redesign for now. As Hughes and his crew approached the castle courtyard, the sight of familiar faces waiting for them brought a sense of relief. Alice stood at the forefront, her hands resting casually on a book, with a few knights stationed behind her. The courtyard was bustling with activity as more knights and workers moved about, unloading supplies and preparing for the arrival of the carriages. Hughes slowed his horse to a stop and dismounted, a broad smile breaking across his weathered face. ¡°So,¡± he called out to Alice, ¡°what did you catch?¡± Alice grinned as she walked toward him. ¡°You¡¯re the ones who went fishing, Captain. Shouldn¡¯t I be asking you that?¡± she teased, her tone lighthearted. Hughes chuckled, embracing her. ¡°Fair enough,¡± he admitted, stepping back as the rest of his crew began unloading the carriages. Behind them, knights and fishermen worked in tandem, their movements efficient as they handled crates of supplies, barrels of salted fish, and iced fish brought back from the coastline.This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. Meanwhile, inside one of the carriages moving toward the castle courtyard, Ravenna sat silently, her deep black eyes fixed on the panel floating before her. [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (8024/8200) Current Reputation Points: 2,621 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } Ravenna studied the screen with a quiet intensity as the carriage gently swayed along the stone-paved roads. Opposite her sat Marie, her young disciple, her nose buried in a thick book brimming with illustrations of magical creatures. The girl¡¯s excitement was palpable, her foot tapping against the floor in anticipation of seeing the magical beast fish. With a faint sigh, Ravenna tapped on the [View Reputation Log] option. The translucent panel shifted, revealing a detailed log of her recent reputation points she had earned. [ Reputation Points System ] Ravenna skimmed the entries at first, uninterested in the mundane points she seemed to collect passively. However, her attention snapped to the newest entry. The reputation log always recorded the name of the individual associated with the earned points, along with their title, such as ¡°Citizen,¡± ¡°Viscountess,¡± or ¡°Saintess.¡± This made her curious, how does it select these titles and also how does it even find names. Curiosity piqued, Ravenna tapped on Marie¡¯s name. The panel expanded with more information than she had ever seen before. [ Reputation Points System ] Title: Saintess Name: Marie Leon Reason: Marie is slowly starting to feel admiration for you, akin to the respect and love she held for her late father, who taught and supported her tirelessly before his death. She feels gratitude toward you and seeks to prove herself worthy in your eyes. Background: Marie Leon is a simple girl from a small village near Nexus Town, on the outskirts of the Ancorn Empire. She is the reincarnation of the great saintess. After an attack on her village that claimed her beloved father¡ªher only family¡ªshe was sold into slavery. She was later rescued by the Herptian Church, which led to her becoming your disciple. Ravenna¡¯s eyes widened slightly as she read the detailed profile. ¡°Wait... it shows this much information?¡± she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible over the creaking of the carriage wheels. She scrolled back up, her mind racing. If Marie¡¯s log could reveal such details, what about the others? Her thoughts immediately turned to another name that had caught her attention: Viscountess Jessica Ronin. The name rang a faint bell in the back of her mind. Digging into her fragmented memories of the original Ravenna, she recalled Jessica as the daughter of Lord Edward Ronin. Years ago, Ravenna had disgraced Jessica¡¯s mother during a grand ball, a scandal that had left lasting consequences for the Ronin family. Tapping on Jessica¡¯s name, the log expanded once again, revealing a similarly detailed entry. [ Reputation Points System ] Title: Viscountess Name: Jessica Ronin Reason: Jessica is plagued by worry over her upcoming attack on Jola in a few weeks and recently had a nightmare about the humiliation Ravenna inflicted on her mother. Background: Jessica Ronin is an ambitious noblewoman who recently inherited her father¡¯s title. She is driven by a desire to elevate her family¡¯s status, a trait she admired in her mother. However, the scandal at the ball years ago traumatized her and continues to haunt her dreams. The incident left her mother socially ruined and strained the Ronin family¡¯s relationships with other noble houses. Jessica¡¯s fear and resentment toward Ravenna have only deepened since. Ravenna¡¯s gaze sharpened as she read the entry. ¡°An attack on Jola?¡± she muttered, her voice heavy with disbelief. 39. Defense Plan for Jola Marie¡¯s eyes lit up with wonder as she darted around the massive Maverick Fish being unloaded from the carriages. Each fish, as large as a full-grown horse, was carefully packed in ice and hauled into the newly built warehouse. The structure, a testament to Jola¡¯s growing infrastructure, was constructed with reinforced cement and lined with thick layers of cooling materials to preserve the fresh catch. ¡°Wow! Look at how huge they are!¡± Marie exclaimed, her voice brimming with excitement. She clutched her book tightly, momentarily abandoning her scholarly demeanor as she leaned closer to get a better view of the giant fish. Hughes, observing her enthusiasm, chuckled softly. ¡°She¡¯s quite lively,¡± he remarked, turning his attention to Alice. ¡°Who is the young lady?¡± Alice smiled warmly. ¡°Ah, I forgot to mention. Her Highness has taken her in as a disciple.¡± Hughes stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow in surprise. ¡°A disciple? Her Highness? That¡¯s... unexpected. I never thought she¡¯d¡ª¡± Before he could finish, Ravenna¡¯s commanding voice cut through the air. ¡°Hughes, meet me in the castle¡¯s study. Alice, Sarah, you two as well. Richard will oversee the handling of the fish.¡± The trio immediately straightened, their expressions turning serious. ¡°Yes, Your Highness,¡± they replied in unison, bowing briefly before following her toward the study. Ravenna sat in her high-backed chair, exuding an aura of authority. The study¡¯s walls were lined with bookshelves filled with account books and maps, while the large table dominated the center, scattered with charts and documents. Hughes, Alice, and Sarah took their seats across from her, the tension in the room palpable. Without preamble, Ravenna addressed them. ¡°I have reason to believe we¡¯ll be facing an attack on the island within the next few weeks.¡± Her words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. Hughes was the first to break the silence. ¡°An attack? Your Highness, where did you get this information?¡± Ravenna¡¯s sharp gaze silenced him. She didn¡¯t answer his question directly, instead leaning forward. ¡°We don¡¯t know the exact scale of the attack or where it will originate, but we must prepare. What do you suggest?¡± Hughes furrowed his brow, contemplating her words. ¡°If what you¡¯re saying is true, then the attackers must have some intelligence about our defenses. No one would dare launch an assault on Jola, the dukedom of an imperial princess and a strategic location for the Ancorn Empire, without thorough planning.¡± ¡°We were hosted by the Ronin family when we passed through their town on our way to Jola. It¡¯s likely they gained some insight into our military strength¡ªor lack thereof.¡± Ravenna nodded grimly thinking in her mind. Hughes continued ¡°Given our current numbers, defending the city will be a significant challenge. We only have 300 knights stationed here. Even if the opposing force is small, it could still overwhelm us.¡±If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Sarah added, ¡°There¡¯s also the issue of time. We¡¯ve barely begun the renovations at the port, and if the attack is only a week away, we won¡¯t be able to hire mercenaries from the mainland and get them here in time.¡± Alice leaned forward, her expression serious. ¡°And the weapons? The blacksmiths are preoccupied with the steam engine project. Diverting their efforts to produce arms and armor would take more time than we have.¡± Ravenna¡¯s gaze darkened, her eyes narrowing like a raven ready to strike. The room seemed to chill under her glare. Hughes shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ¡°W-We also don¡¯t know the size or composition of the enemy force, Your Highness,¡± he stammered. ¡°Without that information, planning a defense is... challenging, to say the least.¡± Alice hesitated, then spoke cautiously. ¡°We could send a magical letter to the capital, requesting aid. However¡ª¡± ¡°They won¡¯t act unless we have concrete evidence or are already under attack,¡± Ravenna finished, her voice edged with frustration. She knew the truth: Viscountess Jessica Ronin was behind the plot. The reputation system had revealed it to her. But without tangible evidence, she couldn¡¯t accuse the Ronin family outright. It was a delicate situation, one that required careful maneuvering. The room fell silent as the weight of the situation settled over them. Each of them understood the stakes. The attack, if it came, could determine the fate of Jola and their lives. Finally, Ravenna broke the silence, her tone decisive. ¡°We¡¯ll prepare with the resources we have. Hughes, draft a defense plan based on our current capabilities. Alice, coordinate with the blacksmiths and see if we can expedite the production of weapons. Sarah, double our patrols and reinforce the city¡¯s vulnerable points. We¡¯ll make do with what we have.¡± As the heavy door closed behind them, Ravenna let out a slow breath and turned her attention to the translucent blue screen hovering in her peripheral vision. It was time to consult the reputation system. With a simple thought, the interface expanded before her. [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (8024/8200) Current Reputation Points: 2,621 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } Her gaze flicked to the familiar options. she clicked on { Spend Reputation Points }, curious if anything in the store could help her prepare for the looming threat. [ Spend Reputation Points ] Ravenna scanned the list, her brow furrowing in frustration. ¡°Not much that can help immediately,¡± she muttered under her breath, tapping her fingers against the armrest of her chair. Most of the options were too situational. Her eyes lingered on the Access to the Internet option. Now It has become a go-to resource for her. With a resigned sigh, she activated it. The faint light of the system faded as a virtual browser materialized in her mind¡¯s eye. She began typing swiftly, searching for defensive tactics, military formations, and strategies for fortifying a vulnerable position. As she scrolled through various articles, diagrams, and forums, a thought struck her. Her eyes narrowed, and she leaned back, replaying an earlier memory. ¡°Wait,¡± she murmured, her fingers freezing mid-air. A realization clicked into place, sparking a surge of excitement. ¡°That might be useful.¡± She quickly exited the browser and navigated to the {Reputation Log}. [ Reputation Log ] The log displayed an exhaustive list of events and interactions that had earned her reputation points. Each entry detailed the people involved and the reasons for her gains. She had barely explored this feature in depth, but now, it felt like a hidden goldmine. ¡°If I play my cards right,¡± Ravenna muttered, her mind already racing, ¡°I can use this to get intel on the Ronin family.¡± 40. Exploiting the Reputation Log The Coastal Town of Ronin, Across the Sea from Jola Island, in the Mainland Empire of Ancorna ¡°My Lady, a letter with an imperial seal arrived a few hours ago,¡± the butler announced, bowing slightly as he handed the letter to Viscountess Jessica Ronin. Jessica''s brows furrowed at the sight of the seal. ¡°An imperial seal? Did it come from the imperial palace?¡± The butler shook his head. ¡°No, My Lady. It was delivered through the merchant association, and they claimed it came from Jola Island.¡± The mention of Jola Island made Jessica stiffen, her heartbeat quickening. ¡°Jola? From Princess Ravenna?¡± she murmured, her voice tinged with unease. Her thoughts spiraled into chaos. ¡°Did she find out about the plan? But that¡¯s impossible! Only the most loyal and trusted members of our house know about it.¡¯ Swallowing hard, Jessica broke the seal and unfolded the letter, her hands trembling ever so slightly. {¡°Hey, Lady Jessica, I know we¡¯ve had our differences in the past, and I am well aware of your family¡¯s loyalty to William. However, I believe we can come to an agreement. Would you consider resuming trade with my island? My people are starving, and our supplies are rapidly depleting. As part of the deal, I am willing to offer cheap labor from my people, or perhaps just give me a small loan, that would suffice. Sincerely, Princess Ravenna Solarius¡±} Jessica sighed, her tension melting into a mix of irritation and disdain. ¡°She doesn¡¯t know about the attack,¡± she muttered, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. ¡°Still the same haughty, spoiled princess, I see. And now she has the audacity to ask for money and offer cheap labor in return?¡± She crumpled the letter in her hand and tossed it onto the desk with a scoff. ¡°She¡¯ll learn soon enough,¡± Jessica said coldly. Her confidence rekindled, she turned her attention back to her plans, ignoring the fleeting sense of unease that lingered in her chest. Lord¡¯s Castle, Jola City, Jola Island [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 60 (8024/8200) Current Reputation Points: 2,621 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } In the dim light of her study, Ravenna¡¯s deep dark eyes glimmered with anticipation as she stared at the familiar translucent panel before her. She leaned forward in her chair, her fingers drumming rhythmically against the wooden desk. [ Reputation Points System ] ¡°Now for the moment of truth,¡± Ravenna murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her heart pounded as she navigated to the detailed log, her mind racing with possibilities.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ¡°Please let it reveal more this time,¡± she muttered, her gaze fixed intently on the screen. With a deep breath, she selected the log, the words unfolding before her eyes. [ Reputation Log ] Title: Viscountess Name: Jessica Ronin Reason: Jessica became nervous about her plan to attack Jola Island and dispose of 2,000 slaves by disguising 500 knights and 300 mercenaries as pirates. Her fear was triggered upon receiving your letter, causing her to doubt herself and your knowledge of her scheme. Background:Jessica Ronin is an ambitious noblewoman who recently inherited her father¡¯s title. She is driven by an intense desire to elevate her family¡¯s status, a trait instilled in her by her mother. However, the Ronin family¡¯s prestige was severely tarnished years ago due to a scandal at a grand ball. The incident left Jessica¡¯s mother socially ruined and caused irreparable damage to their relationships with other noble houses. Since that day, Jessica has carried the burden of restoring her family¡¯s reputation. Her fear and resentment toward Princess Ravenna have only deepened over time, fueled by her trauma and insecurities. Ravenna¡¯s breath hitched as she read the log. She pushed herself out of her chair, her hands gripping the edge of her desk. ¡°No¡­ way this worked!¡± she exclaimed, a mix of disbelief and exhilaration spreading across her face. The idea had been simple: send a letter to Viscountess Jessica Ronin, who harbored a deep-seated fear of her. Ravenna had banked on the notion that Jessica¡¯s apprehension alone would earn her at least a single reputation point¡ªenough to unlock a glimpse into Jessica¡¯s thoughts and plans. And it worked. Ravenna¡¯s gaze flicked back to the glowing panel hovering before her. ¡°So, a total force of 800 troops transporting 2,000 slaves,¡± she muttered, her voice tinged with both concern and determination. She reached for a detailed map of Jola Island, spreading it out across her desk. Her fingers traced the contours of the island¡¯s coastline, her mind already calculating the best defensive strategies. ¡°Where would they land? The harbor? Or perhaps the southern cliffs... No, that¡¯s too risky for them,¡± she murmured to herself, circling key points on the map with a piece of charcoal. Her mind raced, considering every variable. If she could predict their landing point, she could devise a strategy to minimize the damage and protect her people. Meanwhile, in the Blacksmith¡¯s Workshop The air in the workshop was thick with the smell of molten metal, coal, and sweat. Nille, wiped his brow with a soot-streaked rag. His muscular frame, honed by years of hard labor, was coated in a thin sheen of perspiration as he stood before their latest project: The Steam Engine. The contraption dominated the center of the workshop, a testament to weeks of relentless effort and ingenuity. It was an intricate assembly of iron and steel, every component forged with painstaking precision. The cylindrical cauldron, crafted from cast iron, sat at the heart of the machine. Its base was insulated with layers of heat-resistant material, and a sturdy lid was bolted securely on top. Connected to the cauldron was a smaller, intricately shaped iron chamber reinforced with thick metal walls. Seams and rivets were visible along its surface, bearing the marks of careful craftsmanship. Thick iron rods extended from the chamber, connecting a piston to the crankshaft. The crankshaft itself was a marvel¡ªa heavy, forged iron wheel with an off-center axle designed to convert the linear motion of the piston into rotary motion. Beside it, a massive flywheel, forged from solid iron, was attached to the crankshaft. Its purpose was to smooth out the jerky movements of the engine and store rotational energy. The firebox, built from firebricks and cement, was positioned nearby. Its sturdy iron grate held the roaring fire that heated the boiler, and the intense heat shimmered in the air as flames crackled within. As Nille examined the machine, his apprentice adjusted the iron grate, feeding it more coal to stoke the fire. The boiler hissed, steam beginning to build inside. Nille stepped back, wiping the sweat from his brow again as he observed the pressure gauge. His deep voice broke the tense silence. ¡°Hopefully, this one doesn¡¯t blow up,¡± he muttered, his tone heavy with a mixture of anticipation and anxiety. 41. Steam and Motion The clanking of metal echoed through the workshop as the steam engine roared to life, its intricate mechanisms in perfect sync. The piston moved rhythmically, driving a spring-powered conveyor belt that pulled iron slabs into the furnace. Each slab was heated until molten, then drawn out by a timer-controlled mechanism. The molten iron was swiftly shaped into arrows, hammered with the rapid force of the steam engine¡¯s powerful thrust, and cooled into steel. One by one, the newly forged arrows were dropped into ice water with mechanical precision. The blacksmith apprentices, armed with tongs and keen eyes, carefully retrieved the arrows, inspecting each one for imperfections. The entire process moved like clockwork, a testament to weeks of relentless work and innovation. In the viewing area, a small crowd had gathered to witness the marvel. Ravenna stood at the forefront, her piercing gaze locked on the steam engine as it worked. Beside her were Marie, Alice, Sarah, Priest James, and a handful of other priests and knights. The room buzzed with awe and disbelief. ¡°I... It actually moves on its own! And without using flowers for magic!¡± James exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder as he stepped closer to the contraption. Marie¡¯s eyes sparkled with excitement as she approached the machine. ¡°It¡¯s making arrows all by itself!¡± she said, her voice tinged with childlike amazement. Alice, standing nearby, nodded in approval. ¡°Mr. Nille, you¡¯ve truly outdone yourself¡ªand everyone here,¡± she said, her voice steady and warm, cutting through the hum of the workshop. Sarah and the other onlookers were too stunned to speak, their expressions a mixture of astonishment and admiration as they watched the steam engine tirelessly forge arrows. Meanwhile, Ravenna turned to Nille. His face was worn, dark circles under his eyes a testament to the countless sleepless nights he and his team had endured. She addressed him directly, her tone measured but firm. ¡°You finished it just in time. I know everyone is exhausted, but...¡± Nille, though visibly apprehensive in her presence, met her gaze. Despite his fear of Ravenna, his concern for his workers outweighed his trepidation. ¡°Your Highness,¡± he began hesitantly, ¡°my men need rest. We¡¯ve been working tirelessly, jumping from one project to another without pause. I can¡¯t push them any further, not without risking their health.¡± Ravenna¡¯s eyes narrowed as her lips tightened. For a brief moment, tension filled the air. But then she exhaled, regaining her composure. Her voice softened, though it carried the weight of authority. ¡°The steam engine will free up much of your workload. What I need now is relatively simple: create more equipment that allows the steam engine to mass produce weapons¡ªnot just arrows. Have the blacksmiths who are less fatigued handle this.¡± ¡°But, Your Highness...¡± Nille started to protest, his voice faltering. Ravenna cut him off, her voice rising with urgency. ¡°There is a war coming to this island, Nille! The lives of our people are at stake!¡± Her deep black eyes burned with intensity as she stepped closer, her words sharp and unyielding. ¡°I promise you, the blacksmiths will have their long-overdue rest. But right now, we don¡¯t have the luxury of time. If we don¡¯t prepare, everyone on this island will be dead anyway.¡± Nille froze, her words hitting him like a hammer. The severity of her tone, combined with the revelation of an impending attack, left him momentarily speechless. Alice, standing nearby, was equally taken aback. She hadn¡¯t expected Ravenna to reveal such critical information so openly.Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings. After a long pause, Nille swallowed hard and nodded. ¡°I... I will do my best to have it finished,¡± he said, his voice filled with a newfound determination. Though he didn¡¯t fully understand the details of the looming threat, he could feel its weight bearing down on them. If Ravenna was this desperate, then the danger was far greater than he had imagined. Ravenna nodded in acknowledgment, her expression softening slightly. ¡°Thank you, Nille. Your efforts won¡¯t be forgotten,¡± she said, her voice laced with genuine gratitude. Meanwhile, at a vast, dimly lit warehouse near the harbor of Ronin Town, Mainland Ancorna The air was damp and cold, carrying the faint stench of saltwater and decay. Inside the sprawling structure was a cargo unlike any other: slaves. This warehouse, one of many owned by the infamous crime syndicate Hercules and hosted by the Ronin family, typically served as a temporary holding station. Normally, slaves were divided into smaller groups, chained up in separate warehouses across the town, and discreetly transported to auction houses. However, this time, an unusual change in protocol had taken place¡ªall the captives had been brought to this massive warehouse. Bradon sat in a cramped, filthy cell, his wrists chafed from the heavy iron shackles binding him. The faint glow of lanterns flickered across the damp stone walls, casting eerie shadows on the faces of the enslaved. Yet, for the first time in months, a flicker of something other than despair flickered in his heart. He wasn¡¯t alone. In the same cell, his wife Camila and their 20-year-old son Samuel sat close, their presence a bittersweet comfort. They had been torn from their village months ago, ripped from their lives by the Hercules syndicate. For most of that time, they had been separated, confined to different warehouses with no way to know if the others were even alive. But last night, everything had changed. The guards, for reasons still unclear, had begun gathering all the slaves from across Ronin Town, bringing them to this single, massive warehouse. For Brandon, this unexpected move had reunited him with his family. ¡°Father, do you see anything?¡± Samuel asked in a hushed tone, his voice tinged with both curiosity and unease. Bradon stood near the cell bars, peering through the gaps at the activity in the warehouse. ¡°The guards are still bringing more people in,¡± Bradon murmured, his brow furrowed in thought. ¡°It¡¯s strange. They were always so cautious before¡ªkeeping us separated, moving us in small, quiet groups. But now...¡± ¡°Maybe they¡¯re planning a larger auction than usual,¡± Camila suggested, her voice soft but steady. Despite the gravity of their situation, she tried to offer a sliver of optimism. Bradon nodded slightly, though his unease didn¡¯t fade. ¡°That could be it,¡± he admitted. ¡°Maybe... maybe we¡¯ll even be kept together this time.¡± Samuel, however, wasn¡¯t convinced. ¡°It doesn¡¯t add up,¡± he said, his sharp eyes scanning the bustling guards. ¡°They always went out of their way to split up families and friends, making sure no one who knew each other could be bought together. Why change that now?¡± It was a valid point, but before Bradon could respond, their grim reflections were interrupted. A heavy-set guard strode toward the cells, the distinct, sickly green glow of a Filet Flower in his hand. The flower¡¯s crushed petals released a faint, shimmering mist that activated the servitude spells embedded in the enchanted collars worn by every slave. Bradon felt the familiar, suffocating weight press down on him as the spell took hold, forcing obedience into his very bones. The guard¡¯s voice barked through the air, sharp and commanding. ¡°Form a line! You¡¯re boarding the ship¡ªmove, and do it quietly!¡± Bradon¡¯s heart sank as he processed the command. A ship? That was new. In the past, the slaves were moved discreetly by carriages, transported to nearby towns or auction houses. But this¡ªthis was something entirely different. ¡°A ship?¡± Bradon muttered under his breath, his mind racing. ¡°Where could they be taking us now?¡± Camila¡¯s eyes darted toward him, worry etched into her features. ¡°Do you think they¡¯re moving us farther away?¡± she whispered. Samuel glanced at the guards herding the other slaves out of their cells. ¡°Wherever they¡¯re taking us, it¡¯s not close,¡± he said grimly. ¡°They wouldn¡¯t need a ship otherwise.¡± The guard struck the bars with the hilt of his sword, making an ear-piercing clang. ¡°I said MOVE!¡± he snarled. Without a choice, Bradon, Camila, and Samuel shuffled out of the cell, joining the growing line of captives. Chains clinked with every step as they followed the guards¡¯ orders. Outside, the cold night air bit at their skin. Dockworkers and armed sentries moved briskly, preparing a large, ominous-looking ship moored in the harbor. Bradon couldn¡¯t shake the gnawing sense of dread clawing at his chest. Whatever lay ahead, it wasn¡¯t good. Yet as he looked at his wife and son walking beside him, he clung to one thought: no matter what, he would protect them. For now, all they could do was obey and pray for a chance to escape. 42. Defensive Measures Part 1 Ravenna awoke to the relentless desert sun pouring through the open window of her chambers. The oppressive heat of Jola Island clung to the air, making even the early morning unbearable. Dressed in a thin, sheer nightgown that clung to her skin, she pushed the sweat-soaked hair from her forehead and reached for the silk fan at her bedside. The rhythmic hum of her maids moving about the room was a familiar comfort as they prepared her for the day ahead. Once dressed, Ravenna inspected her reflection in the polished silver mirror. Her attire was both regal and practical, a nod to her station and the unforgiving climate. A sleeveless silk crop top hugged her torso, embroidered with intricate golden patterns that shimmered with the light. The deep royal purple of the fabric complemented her striking midnight-black hair, cascading in loose waves over her shoulders. A flowing, high-waisted maxi skirt completed the ensemble, its soft folds moving gracefully as she turned. The skirt featured discreet side slits, offering a hint of practicality for swift movement while maintaining an understated elegance. Gold jewelry¡ªbracelets, earrings, and a thin circlet¡ªadded subtle accents to her commanding presence. After a light breakfast, Ravenna entered her study, where Hughes and Vice Knight Captain John awaited her. They rose from their seats and bowed respectfully before she gestured for them to sit. Spread across the table was a detailed map of Jola Island, marking key areas and potential vulnerabilities. Hughes began, his tone measured but urgent. "Your Highness, as per your orders yesterday, we have devised preliminary defense strategies. While we lack specifics about the enemy''s size, we must assume they will outnumber us significantly." Ravenna nodded, her sharp gaze fixed on him. "Proceed." John leaned forward, pointing to the map. "There are three primary locations where enemy ships can dock: the southern port area, the eastern beach, and the western coastline. The port is the most obvious choice, as it is the primary docking point for vessels. However, the ongoing renovations give us a strategic advantage. The incomplete structures and demolished sections can be used to our benefit. We propose setting up obstacles¡ªlarge rocks, submerged spikes, and oil traps¡ªto slow their approach. Once their ships are weakened or immobilized, our forces can deal with the remaining attackers on land." Ravenna tapped her fingers on the armrest of her chair, considering the plan. "Go on." "If they aim for the eastern beach," Hughes continued, "we have a natural advantage due to the distance. It would take their forces several hours on horseback to reach the city. We could set up ditches, barriers, and traps to delay their advance. With the element of surprise on our side, this could reduce their numbers and potentially intimidate them into retreating. This also gives us time to send a messenger to the imperial palace for reinforcements." John took over. "The western coastline presents a different challenge. The narrow, layered rock formations create a natural bottleneck, which we can exploit. A smaller force of fifty to eighty knights and militia could hold them there, buying us crucial time to prepare defenses or call for aid."Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Ravenna clapped her hands lightly, a gesture of acknowledgment. "Your strategies are sound, but new developments require us to revise them." Both men exchanged glances, their curiosity evident. Ravenna leaned forward, her voice calm but firm. "You¡¯ve seen the new steam engines being constructed, correct?" "Yes, Your Highness," Hughes replied. "We based these plans before they were completed. We were going to suggest incorporating them into our strategies." "Good," Ravenna said, her tone sharpening. "Here is what we now know: the incoming force consists of a crime syndicate and a noble house working together. They are sending a fleet carrying approximately 500 knights and 300 mercenaries disguised as pirates. Along with their soldiers, they are transporting 2,000 slaves, likely intending to dispose of them here." Both Hughes and John visibly tensed at the revelation. The magnitude of the threat was now clear. John broke the silence. "A fleet of that size¡­ It will be a significant challenge. Likely a dozen or more ships, if not more." Ravenna nodded solemnly. "Precisely. But here¡¯s the crux of our strategy: I do not want to sink their ships or let them escape. We must rescue the slaves and assimilate them into our city. This means we need to disable the fleet without destroying it outright." Hughes furrowed his brow thoughtfully before speaking. "Your Highness, if I may, what about the crossbow design you showed me before? Is it complete now that the steam engines are operational?" A sly smirk curved Ravenna¡¯s lips as she reached into her desk drawer and retrieved a crossbow, placing it on the table with a sharp clink. "If you hadn¡¯t asked about it, Hughes, I might have considered firing you," she teased. Hughes chuckled nervously, glancing at the weapon. "Well, I suppose I asked just in time then. Does it work as you envisioned, Your Highness?" Ravenna leaned back, her eyes gleaming with pride. "Yes. These are spring-powered crossbows, capable of being preloaded with six small steel-tipped bolts, which can then be fired in rapid succession without needing to be manually reloaded after each shot." The crossbow was unlike anything John or Hughes had seen before. Compact yet sturdy, it featured a sleek mechanism where six bolts could be inserted into individual slots. The innovation lay in its use of pre-tensioned springs, which allowed for rapid firing by simply pulling the trigger repeatedly, eliminating the need for manual cocking after every shot. "This innovation," Ravenna continued, running her fingers along the polished wood of the crossbow, "was made possible because of the steam engine. The blacksmiths worked tirelessly through the night, designing a mechanism that harnesses steam power to produce critical components like precision springs and other parts needed for mass production. With this breakthrough, we were able to manufacture several of these crossbows within hours; they are working on producing more as we speak." John picked up the weapon, examining it closely. "These springs are remarkable. In crossbows, we rely on thin wires to store tension, but they lack durability and efficiency. These ¡®springs¡¯, however, can hold tension longer and with far greater reliability, if what is said here on the report is true. It¡¯s an era-defining advancement." Ravenna nodded. "These crossbows are small enough to be wielded by a single soldier and lethal enough to pierce through most armors, thanks to the steel-tipped bolts. They¡¯re also light enough to ensure mobility on the battlefield." John whistled low under his breath. "Steel-tipped bolts that can pierce armor and six rapid-fire shots without reloading... This could change the course of warfare, Your Highness." Hughes, however, wore a more cautious expression. "While the design is ingenious, there is one significant issue," he said, glancing between Ravenna and John. "We haven¡¯t tested these crossbows in a live combat scenario. none of our soldiers have trained with them, using them in combat will be..." 43. Defensive Measures Part 2 Hughes, however, wore a more cautious expression. "While the design is ingenious, there is one significant issue," he said, glancing between Ravenna and John. "We haven¡¯t tested these crossbows in a live combat scenario. none of our soldiers have trained with them, using them in combat will bring Complications" "Complications indeed," John added grimly, crossing his arms. Ravenna leaned forward, her gaze sharp and resolute. "It¡¯s a risk we have to take," she declared. "If we¡¯re going to hold off a force more than twice our size, we need every advantage we can muster. Have the soldiers train with them until the very last moment. Familiarize them as much as possible." John and Hughes exchanged uneasy glances but sighed in reluctant agreement. Hughes finally nodded, his shoulders sagging slightly under the weight of the decision. "Very well, Your Highness," Hughes said. "Now, with that settled, let¡¯s return to the matter of the enemy. Based on what we know, here¡¯s what I believe." He paused, tapping a finger on the edge of the map laid out on the table. The intricate cartography of Jola Island and its surroundings seemed to come alive under his scrutiny. "These are knights masquerading as pirates," Hughes began, his tone firm. "That much is clear. But why the charade? They must have a specific reason for wanting us to believe they¡¯re pirates. If so, then they need witnesses¡ªcredible ones¡ªto confirm this narrative." Ravenna¡¯s lips twitched in subtle approval, impressed by Hughes¡¯s quick grasp of the situation. He truly was the captain of her knights for a reason. "They¡¯re aiming for plausible deniability," John interjected, his brow furrowed in thought. "They intend to dispose of the slaves and ensure that we spread the tale of a pirate raid¡ªkeeping their noble house¡¯s involvement buried. Isn¡¯t that it?" "Exactly," Ravenna said with a small nod. Despite her initial hesitation to reveal too much, she realized there was no point in keeping her knights in the dark. They had pieced it together with startling accuracy. "But it¡¯s not just about the town," Hughes added, his hand moving across the map to highlight various points of interest. "If that were the case, they could¡¯ve dumped the slaves at any coastal village while staging a raid. The fact that they¡¯ve chosen Jola is significant." "They need me as a witness," Ravenna replied, her voice edged with frustration. "An imperial princess¡¯s testimony carries far more weight than that of any noble family or common townsfolk." "Precisely," Hughes agreed. "And based on this, we can expect them to rush straight into the city." Ravenna and John exchanged confused looks. "Rush into the city?" John asked. Hughes nodded, his expression growing more serious. "Their objective is to convince us¡ªand by extension, the imperial court¡ªthat this was a pirate raid tied to the slave auctions in the capital''s crime syndicate. To sell this illusion, they will act like true pirates: attacking recklessly, sowing chaos, and perhaps even attempting to kidnap Your Highness to stage a ransom. Such a scenario would lend credibility to their story." Ravenna¡¯s eyes narrowed. "It would also ensure that my testimony aligns with their fabricated narrative," she murmured.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. "And they likely believe we¡¯re unaware of their plans," Hughes continued. "This means they¡¯ll come at us with confidence, assuming we¡¯ll be caught off guard." Ravenna tapped her fingers against the table, her mind racing. "Then evacuating the city and setting an ambush should work, correct? We could free the slaves and trap them before they realize what¡¯s happening." Hughes shook his head, his expression grim. "It¡¯s not that simple, Your Highness. Consider this: they undoubtedly know how many knights are stationed here. If their plan is this elaborate, they¡¯ve done their homework." Ravenna¡¯s glare bore into Hughes, her suspicion growing. He¡¯d clearly deduced which noble house was behind this, even without her explicitly stating it. Hughes met her gaze with a nervous smile but pressed on. "From what I can infer, they¡¯ll split their fleet into three groups and position them at strategic points: the southern port, the eastern beach, and the western beach," Hughes explained, tracing his fingers along the map to indicate the locations. John frowned, leaning over the table. "Why spread their forces like that? If their goal is to convince us it¡¯s a pirate raid, wouldn¡¯t it be more efficient to send a smaller group to wreak havoc in the city while they unload the slaves at the port? No one in their right mind would want to hold Jola Island¡ªit¡¯s a strategic location, and the imperial court would reclaim it within hours. Attempting to take it is sheer folly." "True, but their objective isn¡¯t just to dispose of the slaves. They also want to kidnap Her Highness," Hughes countered. "That¡¯s the best way to ensure her testimony aligns with their story." Ravenna nodded slowly, the pieces falling into place. "So they¡¯ll widen their attack radius to account for the possibility that I¡¯m not in the castle during the raid," she said. "This way, it still feels like a chaotic pirate raid, but they increase their chances of capturing me." "Exactly," Hughes confirmed. John let out a frustrated grumble. "If they¡¯re coming at us from three directions, holding the city will be nearly impossible. Even if we evacuate the citizens to the northern estate, defending against a multi-pronged assault will stretch our forces too thin." Ravenna, though well-versed in politics and management, felt out of her depth in military strategy. She leaned heavily on Hughes and John, trusting them to come up with a plan that could counter such a daunting threat. Her dark eyes shifted between them, silently urging them to devise a solution. Hughes broke the tense silence with a determined voice. "We¡¯ll attack them from behind." His finger traced the map spread across the table, pointing to strategic points along the coastline. "Since their goal is to dispose of the slaves here, we can hope they won¡¯t retreat until they¡¯ve achieved that. That gives us an opening." He gestured to the southern port, which is currently under renovation. "The port is in repair, which works to our advantage. We can block their approach with debris and abandoned ships, creating an obstacle that slows them down. While they¡¯re struggling to dock, we¡¯ll deploy smaller fishing boats to sail in behind them. With the element of surprise since they don¡¯t know we are expecting them, we can strike when they¡¯re least prepared." Hughes¡¯s gaze shifted to the western and eastern beaches. "At the western beach, we¡¯ll use the layered rock formations to our advantage. Stationing men there will give us a tactical high ground to ambush them in narrow lanes. The eastern beach, with its open desert terrain, is trickier, but we can position our forces to lure them into unfavorable ground, where mobility is limited, and they¡¯re exposed." He paused, tapping the map thoughtfully before continuing. "While these skirmishes are unfolding on land, we¡¯ll use the fishing boats to board their ships. Our new steel crossbows will be critical here. If we can take out their captains and key officers, we¡¯ll throw their chain of command into chaos. The steel arrows should also be able to damage their sails and rigging, crippling their ability to retreat quickly." Ravenna nodded slowly, following his reasoning, though her face betrayed her concern. "But what if they realize they¡¯re outmaneuvered and try to flee before they¡¯re cornered? They could simply retreat into the open ocean and regroup." Hughes grimaced, acknowledging the risk. "That¡¯s the one problem we can¡¯t completely solve. Without larger warships, we lack the means to blockade them effectively or chase them down if they retreat. Still, their intent to dispose of the slaves here suggests they won¡¯t pull out immediately. Their timeline works in our favor if we act decisively." ¡°So if we had a way to stop them from retreating we can do something?¡± Ravenna asked with a firm voice. 44. Spring Powered Ballistas Ravenna, Hughes, and John arrived at the blacksmith''s workshop, a hive of activity where steam engines hissed and groaned, tirelessly churning out steel arrow components. Blacksmiths moved with practiced precision, assembling rapid-fire crossbows using the parts produced by the mechanized forges. The air was heavy with the scent of molten metal and soot, the clang of hammers on steel blending with the rhythmic hum of machinery. However, their purpose here wasn¡¯t solely to oversee the production of crossbows. In the center of the workshop, five smaller and intricately designed ballistas stood out, gleaming with fresh metal. These were no ordinary siege weapons¡ªthey were something new, something revolutionary. Nille, the chief blacksmith, noticed their arrival and quickly stepped forward, bowing slightly. "Your Highness! I didn¡¯t realize you had arrived." Ravenna nodded, her expression calm but focused. She gestured towards the ballistas. "We¡¯ve just arrived. But I want you to brief the knight captain and vice-captain about these immediately." Nille followed her gaze and motioned toward the weapons. "These are spring-powered ballistas," he began, his tone tinged with pride. "They operate on the same principles as the rapid-fire crossbows but on a much larger scale." He stepped up to one of the machines and gestured for a knight to assist him. The knight carefully loaded a cloth-covered steel javelin into the weapon''s chamber as Nille continued his explanation. "With the help of the steam engine, we¡¯ve managed to produce five of these so far. Unfortunately, even with the engines speeding up production, assembling these weapons is a labor-intensive process. The blacksmiths are exhausted, and I estimate we might only be able to produce one more before the attack." Ravenna acknowledged his report with a slight nod, her sharp eyes scrutinizing the ballistas. Meanwhile, Hughes and John stepped closer, inspecting the mechanisms with curiosity and awe. Hughes, his voice tinged with a mix of nervousness and excitement, asked, "Does that mean... does that mean these can also rapid-fire, like the crossbows? Powered by the spring mechanism?" Nille smiled faintly. "In theory, yes. Not only that, but their range and accuracy should be more than ten times that of standard ballistas. The mechanism has been tested extensively, but we haven¡¯t yet had the chance to test their ability to fire multiple steel javelins in rapid succession. We simply don¡¯t have the time." John frowned. "We can¡¯t risk deploying these untested in a real battle. If they fail, it could cost us dearly." Hughes nodded. "Agreed. A full test might not be feasible, but we need to conduct at least a basic trial to gauge their capabilities before including them in our strategy." Ravenna¡¯s gaze remained steady as she considered their words. "Then let¡¯s not delay. We¡¯ll test them on the beach immediately." The team moved swiftly to the beach, accompanied by a small group of knights and priests acting as engineers. The spring-powered ballistas were loaded onto carts and transported carefully, each weapon treated like a precious artifact. On the open sands, the weapons were set up facing the ocean, where their performance could be assessed without risk to anyone nearby.If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Nille began overseeing the preparations. "We¡¯ll start with a single javelin shot to test range and accuracy. Then, we¡¯ll attempt a rapid-fire sequence to see how well the mechanism handles repeated use." The first ballista was loaded with a steel javelin, its spring mechanism wound tightly. A knight stepped back after securing the weapon, while another manned the trigger. "Ready!" Nille called. "Fire!" Hughes ordered. The ballista released the javelin with a sharp thwang, the sound of the spring reverberating through the air. The projectile shot forward with tremendous speed, slicing through the air before landing far out in the waves, kicking up a spray of water. One of the priests, watching with a spyglass, whistled in amazement. "Nearly a kilometer! And dead-on accurate!" Ravenna¡¯s expression remained composed, though her tone betrayed a hint of satisfaction. "Good. Let¡¯s see if it can handle rapid-fire." Nille nodded and directed the knights to load three javelins into the ballista. The weapon¡¯s spring was adjusted to ensure continuous tension, and the firing mechanism was set for sequential release. "Ready for rapid-fire testing!" Nille announced. "Proceed," Ravenna commanded. The trigger was pulled, and the ballista unleashed its first shot, quickly followed by a second and third in rapid succession. Each javelin soared through the air, maintaining a consistent trajectory. However, after the third shot, the mechanism emitted a faint grinding noise, and Nille signaled to stop. "Three consecutive shots," he reported, examining the ballista. "The mechanism is intact, but it¡¯s clear that sustained rapid-fire will cause strain. With some adjustments, it could handle more, but for now, three shots in quick succession seems to be the limit." Hughes crossed his arms, deep in thought. "Three shots is still very impressive; this can literally change our defense strategy¡¯s outcome." Ravenna turned to Nille. "Ensure the blacksmiths focus on refining the mechanism of the existing ballistas. Even if we can¡¯t produce more, improving their performance will be vital." Nille bowed. "Understood, Your Highness." As the team packed up the ballistas, the knights were abuzz with excitement. Though the weapons were far from perfect, they represented a significant tactical advantage¡ªa glimmer of hope against the coming assault. For now, Ravenna, Hughes, and John felt a small measure of relief. In this world, ballistas, trebuchets, and catapults reigned supreme as the primary tools of large-scale warfare, alongside the ever-present influence of mages. The existence of mages had significantly stagnated the practical evolution of industries. Where people on Earth might have pursued scientific innovation to address complex challenges, this world had leaned heavily on the convenience of magic. For instance, medical advancements often relied on healing magic, while the creation of snow or refrigeration was effortlessly achieved by mages using a few enchanted flowers. This heavy reliance on magic stunted the development of many technologies that might have otherwise emerged, such as steam engines, advanced metallurgy, or the widespread use of chemical propellants. One striking example was the absence of cannons, a staple of medieval defense strategies on Earth. While certain regions had experimented with magical versions of cannon-like weapons, the concept of a gunpowder-powered cannon was still far from realization. The lack of urgency to innovate in this direction stemmed from the ease with which mages could substitute magical solutions for traditional engineering. For Ravenna, the prospect of developing a cannon was entirely out of reach given the time constraints. However, after the success of spring-powered crossbows, the idea of scaling up the same principles for ballistas seemed feasible. This was why she had prioritized their creation, recognizing their immediate practicality. Back in the study, Ravenna, Hughes, and John gathered to discuss the day¡¯s progress. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of lanterns casting long shadows over the sprawling map on the table. ¡°Now we have a way to ensure the ships don¡¯t retreat,¡± Ravenna said, her tone firm and resolute. Her piercing gaze scanned the map, which displayed key locations of strategic importance. 45. Faring Elie The sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the vast expanse of the Ancorna Sea. The water, calm and shimmering under the fading light, was suddenly disturbed as a large ship, leading a formidable fleet, sliced through the tranquil surface. The ship¡¯s dark sails billowed in the evening breeze, its massive hull cutting through the waves with an air of menace. This was no ordinary vessel¡ªit was a warship, fitted with at least fifty mounted ballistas, each one primed for battle. Built for both speed and firepower, the ship was also large enough to carry essential cargo, including provisions, weaponry, and¡ªhidden away in its depths¡ªhuman cargo. A black flag adorned with a skull flapped ominously in the wind, marking the fleet as pirates. Yet this fleet of thirteen ships was anything but rogue marauders. At the helm stood Ser Connor, a seasoned veteran of House Ronin. Dressed in pirate-like garb, he cut a striking yet uncomfortable figure, his usual knightly armor replaced by tattered clothes meant to sell the illusion. He gripped the wooden railing, his gaze fixed on the distant horizon. Footsteps echoed from the lower deck, and a man in similar pirate attire emerged from below. His movements were stiff, unnatural¡ªlike a man playing a role he was not accustomed to. ¡°C-Captain,¡± the man stammered, clearly struggling to drop his knightly mannerisms in favor of a more rugged, seafaring tone. ¡°Everything is in order below deck. The slaves are secured, properly chained, and under guard.¡± Connor barely glanced at him, his expression unreadable. ¡°Not that it matters much longer. We¡¯ll be reaching Jola Island in a few more hours,¡± he muttered. ¡°By nightfall, we¡¯ll be on their shores.¡± His eyes remained on the horizon, scanning the fading light for any sign of trouble. Above, the sails rustled as another figure descended from the rigging with ease. This man, however, looked far more at home in his pirate disguise. His confident smirk never wavered as he landed beside Connor. ¡°You know, Connor,¡± the man said, amusement lacing his voice, ¡°this look suits you.¡± Connor scoffed, adjusting the rough fabric of his borrowed coat as if the very touch of it offended him. ¡°Spare me,¡± he grumbled. ¡°My dignity as a knight is hanging by a thread. Unlike you people from the Syndicate, I actually care about honor.¡± Keith, the man in question, chuckled and leaned casually against the railing. His dark eyes glinted mischievously as he responded, ¡°That¡¯s the difference between us, Ser Knight. You have honor, and I have results.¡± Connor exhaled sharply, shaking his head. ¡°A loyal knight of House Ronin, reduced to wearing pirate rags, pretending to be a savage, and attacking like common criminals.¡± He clenched his fists, his voice lowering to a bitter murmur. ¡°It¡¯s disgraceful.¡± Keith let out a short laugh. ¡°Oh, come now. Look at the bright side,¡± he said, nudging Connor with his elbow. ¡°Once this mission is complete, you¡¯ll be promoted to vice knight captain. You¡¯ll finally get the recognition you¡¯ve been waiting for all these years.¡± Connor¡¯s expression darkened. He said nothing, merely grumbling under his breath as he turned away. Keith, still amused, folded his arms and watched the knight retreat.Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. ¡°You know,¡± Keith called after him, ¡°we should have a name for our little ¡®pirate¡¯ group. It¡¯d make things feel more authentic, don¡¯t you think?¡± Connor didn¡¯t stop walking. ¡°Do whatever you want,¡± he muttered, disappearing into his cabin. Keith smirked and tapped his chin in thought. ¡°Hmm¡­ Faring Ellie has a nice ring to it,¡± he mused to himself. As the fleet pressed onward toward Jola Island, the grim reality of their journey settled heavily in the dimly lit lower decks of one of the ships. Crammed into rusted iron cages, the slaves¡ªmen, women, and children alike¡ªsat in silence, their expressions clouded with fear and uncertainty. The air was thick with the stench of sweat and damp wood, the only light filtering in through thin cracks in the wooden planks above. Brandon sat with his back against the bars, his arms wrapped protectively around his young son, Samuel. had a sharp mind. His small hands gripped the bars as he whispered, ¡°Father, it doesn¡¯t look like they¡¯re taking us to an auction.¡± Brandon, sighed and nodded. ¡°I agree. These men are dressed as pirates, but something feels off. Some of them are from the Syndicate¡ªI recognize their mannerisms¡ªbut the others¡­ they don¡¯t belong here. They¡¯re too rigid, too disciplined to be pirates.¡± From a shadowy corner of the cage, Camila, Brandon¡¯s wife, stirred. The chains on her wrists clanked softly as she shifted. Her voice, though low, carried certainty. ¡°Jola. They¡¯re taking us to Jola Island.¡± Brandon turned to her, brows furrowed. ¡°You¡¯re sure?¡± Camila nodded, her dark eyes sharp despite the exhaustion lining her face. ¡°I overheard one of the guards speaking through the walls to an old man in the next cell. He told him to stop wasting water because we would be in a desert soon.¡± Samuel¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°A desert? Then it has to be Jola! That¡¯s the only desert island anywhere near here!¡± His words traveled through the wooden partitions, reaching the ears of the other captives in the neighboring cells. A hushed panic spread like wildfire. ¡°My gods! They¡¯re taking us to Jola?!¡± ¡°No! Not the unruly, ruthless princess¡¯s domain!¡± ¡°It would be better if we were auctioned off!¡± ¡°Please, anywhere but there! We don¡¯t want to be tortured by that evil princess!¡± The murmurs turned to desperate cries, their voices rising in terror. Fists pounded against the iron bars, chains rattled, and fear twisted into hysteria. The guards reacted immediately. With heavy wooden clubs, they struck the bars, the deafening clangs echoing through the ship. ¡°Silence!¡± one of them barked, striking a prisoner¡¯s outstretched hands through the bars. Screams turned to muffled sobs as the panic was forcibly subdued. Dame Lana stood at the ship¡¯s bow, watching the waves churn beneath them. also a knight of House Ronin, not in her usual elegant armor of her station, but clad in the rough garments of a seafarer. The wind tangled her dark hair as she observed the fleet¡¯s movement toward Jola Island. A commotion from below deck caught her attention. She turned sharply as one of the guards rushed toward her, offering a hasty salute. ¡°Miss Lana,¡± he said, quickly correcting himself from calling her Dame in front of the disguised crew. ¡°The slaves were misbehaving, but we¡¯ve dealt with it.¡± Lana narrowed her eyes. ¡°Misbehaving?¡± she repeated coolly. ¡°They¡¯re in cages. What could they possibly do?¡± The guard hesitated before answering. ¡°They figured out our destination. It caused a panic.¡± Lana sighed in irritation, pinching the bridge of her nose. ¡°Of course, they did.¡± She turned to the man. ¡°Use the Filet Flower and activate the servitude spell. That should keep them silent for the remainder of the journey.¡± The guard nodded, a wicked grin creeping across his face. ¡°Understood.¡± Lana¡¯s gaze returned to the horizon as she added, ¡°And get ready. The captain has called for us to board his ship for a strategy meeting. We¡¯ll reach and make our move soon.¡± The guard saluted before hurrying off to carry out her orders. As the fleet sailed ever closer to Jola Island, the sea remained deceptively calm¡ªbelying the storm of cruelty and bloodshed that was about to unfold. 46. Boundless Wisdom The sun dipped below the horizon, casting golden-orange hues across the sky as Ravenna sat in her study, the flickering candlelight illuminating the parchment spread across her desk. A warm cup of tea rested in her hands as she meticulously reviewed the defensive strategy for the impending attack. The subtle bitterness of the brew grounded her thoughts, allowing her to focus. Just as she reached for another sip, a translucent panel materialized before her eyes, its ethereal glow casting a faint shimmer across the wooden desk. [ Reputation Points System ] +2 Points: Slave Max is terrified of becoming your subject. +2 Points: Slave Jack is terrified of becoming your subject. +2 Points: Slave Brandon is terrified of becoming your subject. Ravenna¡¯s brow lifted slightly as she set the teacup down. ¡°Oh? What¡¯s this?¡± she mused, her fingers lightly tracing the floating words before her. Expanding the log for further details, she examined the newest entry. [ Reputation Log ] Title: Slave Name: Brandon Freeman Reason: After overhearing that the ship he and his family were imprisoned on was bound for Jola Island, he became terrified of becoming your subject¡ªthe unruly and ruthless princess of Ancrona. He fears that you will be his new owner and that the men transporting them are selling him and his loved ones into your hands. Background: Brandon Freeman was a simple farmer from a remote village near Nexus Town, located on the Ancrona-Estra border. Several months ago, a series of brutal raids swept through the region, leading to the mass capture and enslavement of its inhabitants. Brandon and his family were among those unfortunate enough to be taken. Ravenna tapped her finger against the wooden desk thoughtfully. "I wonder how the system determines titles for individuals..." she murmured. The information within the log was highly useful¡ªit not only provided her with insight into how her reputation was perceived but also confirmed that the ship carrying the slaves was en route to Jola Island. That meant the attack could commence at any time. ¡°They¡¯ll likely sail slowly under the cover of darkness,¡± she speculated. ¡°The best time for an ambush would be when I¡¯m expected to be in the lord¡¯s castle.¡± With that thought in mind, she rang a small brass bell on her desk, summoning her trusted knights and advisors. As she waited for them to arrive, she considered the mechanics of the reputation system further. "The last time I tested it, I managed to bait it into revealing details about Jessica Ronin¡­" It was clear to her now¡ªthis log information wasn¡¯t random. It provided her with precisely the information she needed at the right moment. Was it a built-in function? A protocol that ensured relevance? If so, she could manipulate it to gain more intelligence.This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report. The more she pondered, the more certain she became. "If I can replicate this effect intentionally, I can turn this into a powerful tool for gathering information." Her musings were interrupted by a firm knock on the door. "Come in," she called. The door creaked open, and four figures stepped inside¡ªHughes, John, Alice, and James. Their faces bore the weight of unspoken concerns. Ravenna wasted no time. She relayed the intelligence she had gathered and shared her analysis of the attack¡¯s probable timing. The room fell into intense discussion as they planned countermeasures and strategies to fortify their defenses. Once their meeting concluded, the group dispersed, each with their own tasks to attend to. As they exited the study, John turned to Hughes and asked, "Captain, how exactly does Her Highness know about the attack¡¯s arrival?" Hughes, hesitated slightly. "She must have a spy network feeding her information." John, arms folded behind his head as he walked, scoffed. "If she has spies, why didn¡¯t she use them back in the capital? Something feels off. Ever since we arrived at Jola Island, she¡¯s been full of surprises¡ªmaking ice, producing that bizarre material she calls ''cement'' for construction, even crafting intricate things like those clocks. It¡¯s like she has knowledge beyond our understanding." Hughes exhaled sharply, glancing at the fading light in the corridor. "I won¡¯t deny it¡ªI¡¯ve had my own doubts. But questioning her directly? I wouldn¡¯t dare. And frankly, I doubt any of us would." James, ever the religious one, chimed in thoughtfully. "Perhaps she is blessed by the Goddess Herptian and has received divine knowledge." Alice chuckled at the notion. "Ravenna? The same Ravenna who never once prayed at the temple, who scoffs at religious traditions? Goddess Herptian would sooner bless a beggar than her." Hughes stroked his chin. "Still¡­ don¡¯t you think it¡¯s strange?" Alice conceded with a sigh. "Strange, yes. But confronting her about it? That¡¯s an entirely different matter." As they spoke, a cheerful humming echoed down the corridor. Marie, Ravenna¡¯s young apprentice, skipped toward them, her auburn curls bouncing with each step. Upon seeing the group, her face lit up. "Whoa, all the important people are gathered here!" she chirped. She curtsied toward James. "Greetings, Your Holiness!" Alice, ever the strict tutor, placed her hands on her hips. "Marie, how many times must I remind you? A lady must greet people properly. How do you expect to conduct yourself at tea ceremonies or noble gatherings with Her Highness in the future?" Marie pouted. "S-Sorry¡­" She then tilted her head curiously. "What were you all talking about?" Hughes exchanged glances with the others before replying, "We were discussing whether or not Her Highness has been blessed by Goddess Herptian." Marie blinked in confusion. "Oh? But isn¡¯t that obvious?" John raised a brow. "What do you mean?" Marie nodded enthusiastically. "Master told me herself that she is!" A collective silence fell over the group. "She did what?" they echoed in unison. Marie, oblivious to their shock, recounted, "When she first made iron from black sand, she told me, ''The land speaks if you know how to listen, Marie. And sometimes, the answers are hidden in history, waiting to be rediscovered.'' Doesn¡¯t that mean she¡¯s been blessed with divine wisdom?" Without waiting for a response, she cheerfully added, "Well, I mustn¡¯t keep Master waiting! I have to help her in the study." With that, she skipped past them and disappeared into Ravenna¡¯s office. The corridor remained eerily silent as the group stood frozen in place, the weight of Marie¡¯s words settling upon them. Each of them wrestled with the same thought¡ªjust how much did Ravenna truly know, and what was the source of her boundless wisdom? 47. Conspired War Part 1: Strategic Arrival The night was calm, with only the rhythmic crashing of waves against Jola Island¡¯s incomplete port disturbing the eerie silence. Above, the sky stretched wide and endless, adorned with thousands of twinkling stars, their reflections shimmering on the ocean¡¯s surface. A humid breeze carried the scent of salt and damp wood as five imposing ships emerged from the darkness, their silhouettes growing larger as they steadily approached the island. High on the half-finished walls of the port, Hughes peered through his spyglass, his grip tightening as the unmistakable forms of enemy vessels came into view. He swallowed hard, the weight of responsibility pressing heavily upon him. "Get them set! We don¡¯t have much time!" he barked, his voice sharp and commanding. The knights and workers stationed along the wall moved with renewed urgency, adjusting the mechanisms they had been setting up. The air was thick with tension, the sound of hurried footsteps and clanking metal filling the night. Hughes lowered his spyglass, shifting his gaze behind him toward the small wooden platform erected nearby. Standing upon it, illuminated by the flickering torchlight, was Ravenna. Her deep dark eyes were sharp and unwavering as she gazed toward the ocean, her posture regal yet tense. The long coat draped over her dress fluttered slightly in the cool night breeze. She could see the approaching ships, their dark forms slicing through the waves like predators closing in on their prey. "This better work," Ravenna muttered under her breath, gripping the dagger in her hand for safety tightly. Eastern Beach, Jola Island The sand along the eastern shore shifted and swirled with the wind, carried over the dunes that stretched toward the dense palm groves beyond. The moonlight bathed the area in a pale glow, casting long shadows over the trenches and defensive structures hastily built by John¡¯s squad. Knights labored tirelessly, reinforcing the makeshift defenses with sharpened stakes, while others loaded the ballistas, their springs creaking under tension as they were aimed toward the sea. John adjusted his spyglass and focused on the horizon. A sharp breath escaped him as he spotted four enemy ships, their sails catching the moonlight as they crept closer. "They¡¯re spreading out their fleet," he muttered, lowering the spyglass. "Just as expected, they''re strategically dividing their forces to strike the city from all sides." He turned to his men, his voice steady yet firm. "Stay sharp. They¡¯ll try to force their way through the nearest path to the castle. We can¡¯t let them breach the city." Aboard the Eastern Fleet Onboard the lead ship, Lana, with fiery auburn hair, leaned against the rail, watching as Jola Island came into view. The moonlight cast a silver glow over the dark waters, revealing the looming coastline in the distance.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. She turned to her gathered crew, their faces lit with anticipation. "Listen up! Once we land, we move quickly. We storm the city like pirates¡ªdirect and ruthless. The fastest route to the lord¡¯s castle is our main objective," she commanded, her tone leaving no room for hesitation. Her crew erupted in a chorus of agreement, a unified "Aye!" filling the air. But as she took another glance at the coastline, something felt off. Her instincts, honed through years of warfare, tingled with unease. "Wait." She lifted a hand, halting her men as a frown creased her brow. She turned to her first mate. "We need to split into two groups. Half of you will push toward the city as planned. The rest will take small boats and sail south to reinforce Captain Connor¡¯s forces." There was a moment of hesitation among the crew, but they trusted their captain¡¯s intuition. Without further protest, they moved to carry out her orders. Lana¡¯s piercing green eyes remained locked on the shoreline. Western Beach, Jola Island The western coastline of Jola was vastly different from the east. The massive rock formation, layered with jagged ridges and narrow canyons, separated the beach from the city. It was a natural fortress¡ªone that would either serve as a barrier against invaders or a death trap for those defending it. On top of the rock formations, Dame Aisha, the veteran knight of Ravenna¡¯s most trusted guards, stood unmoving, her hands resting on the pommel of her sword. The moonlight illuminated her golden-blonde ponytail and reflected off her polished breastplate. Her sharp blue eyes scanned the horizon, narrowing as she caught sight of four ships approaching in the distance. She exhaled, slow and steady. "We will make sure they neither escape nor reach the city," she declared, her voice resolute. Behind her, her knights worked tirelessly to set up ballistas along the cliffs, adjusting their aim and preparing for the incoming assault. The tension was palpable, but Aisha remained steadfast, her expression unreadable. Aboard the Southern Fleet Captain Connor, stood at the helm of his ship, his spyglass set on Jola City¡¯s harbor. What he saw unsettled him. The port, which he had expected to be at least semi-functional, was in a state of near ruin. Half-finished docks, abandoned scaffolding, and scattered wooden beams littered the shoreline. The city beyond was dark, with only a few torches flickering along the walls. Connor frowned deeply, lowering the spyglass. "Something¡¯s not right," he muttered to himself. They had anticipated poverty, but this? This looked like a ghost town. Aboard the Western Fleet Leading the four ships toward the western shore was Keith, who had always preferred daylight battles over the uncertainty of nighttime engagements. Yet here he was, sailing into darkness, heading straight for Jola¡¯s treacherous rock formations. He stood at the map table, tracing the contours of Jola¡¯s terrain with his finger, his brows furrowed in concern. "I still don¡¯t like this," he murmured, glancing at the approaching landmass. "Attacking at night, moving blindly into unknown territory¡­ It feels like a mistake." His second-in-command hesitated before speaking. " This will be a swift raid, Captain. We hit hard, drop off the slaves, grab the princess, and retreat before dawn." Keith exhaled heavily. "And if the terrain proves more dangerous than we thought?" He shook his head. "I hate relying on uncertainty. Especially when my men have to navigate through those damn rock formations." The first mate offered no response, only nodding grimly. As Jola Island loomed closer, Keith tightened his grip on the ship¡¯s railing. Something about this felt wrong. And he feared they would realize it too late. 48. Conspired War Part 2: In the Starry Night The salty night air carried the scent of the sea as Captain Connor¡¯s ship cut through the dark waters, its prow slicing through the gentle waves. The moon hung high, casting silver light upon the ocean''s surface, illuminating the debris floating ahead. ¡°What the hell is this?¡± Connor muttered under his breath, gripping the railing as he narrowed his eyes at the scattered wreckage clogging their path. The water was littered with broken planks, shattered barrels, and remnants of old ships, forcing their fleet to slow down significantly. His grip on the spyglass tightened as he raised it to his eye, scanning the incomplete port in the distance. Shadows moved atop the walls¡ªtoo many to be a simple night watch. His stomach churned. ¡°Captain! I think they were expecting us!¡± one of his knights shouted from behind, his voice laced with panic. Connor¡¯s worst fears were confirmed when he spotted figures on the wooden platform near the port¡¯s edge. A woman stood at the center, illuminated by the flickering torchlight. Even from this distance, her commanding presence was undeniable. Ravenna stood on the raised wooden stage, clad in a regal yet practical coat of deep black, its golden embroidery shimmering under the moonlight. Her sharp, piercing eyes locked onto the incoming ships like a hawk spotting prey. She turned slightly, catching Hughes¡¯ gaze on the half-built wall. With a subtle movement, she raised her hand, gripping a small torch. A moment later, a flicker of light returned from the wall¡ªhis signal of readiness. Satisfied, Ravenna reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a delicate white jasmine flower. Faint magical runes glowed on its petals as she crushed it between her fingers. The moment the flower disintegrated, an invisible force amplified her voice, sending it rippling through the air like an ethereal command. ¡°Insolent invaders! You dare set foot in my dukedom?¡± Her voice rang out, cutting through the wind and crashing waves. ¡°You and your wretched viscount sponsor will learn the price of crossing Ravenna Solarius. I will personally see to it that you leave this place in chains¡ªor not at all.¡± Her words carried a devilish charm, thick with authority and unwavering resolve. The very air around the port seemed to hum with an ominous energy, as if fate itself had tilted against the approaching fleet. The moment Ravenna¡¯s voice reached the ships, an eerie silence fell over the deck. The so-called ¡®pirate-knights¡¯ stood frozen, their faces pale as if the life had been drained from them. It was not just the revelation that their arrival had been anticipated¡ªit was the chilling certainty that she knew who they were. Captain Connor¡¯s throat went dry. His mind raced through the implications. ¡°If she knew of our arrival, then she must have already informed the imperial court. We¡¯re finished.¡± His pulse hammered against his skull as he turned sharply, barking out an order. ¡°Retreat! Turn the ships around! We¡¯re heading back to open waters!¡± If they could escape into the ocean, they could wait out the storm, laying low for months until they received word of the viscount¡¯s fate. Supplies wouldn¡¯t be an issue¡ªas long as they lightened their load. We¡¯ll just dump the slaves in the sea if we have to. Just as he finished his command, a streak of silver pierced under the starry night sky. A javelin, glinting under the moonlight, shot toward them at a terrifying speed. It slammed into the main mast with a deafening crack, splintering the wood like paper. Shards flew in all directions as the crew ducked for cover.Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Before Connor could process what had happened, another came. And another. Javelins rained down with unnatural precision, each strike severing a vital piece of the ship¡¯s rigging. The sails tore apart, their tattered remains fluttering uselessly as the mast groaned under the relentless assault. The ropes snapped, sending crew members tumbling across the deck as the mast finally gave way. BAM! The wooden pillar collapsed, its massive frame smashing into the deck with a thunderous crash. Connor barely had time to roll out of the way, but not before a flying splinter grazed his cheek, leaving a thin, bleeding cut. Struggling to his feet, he looked around in horror. The other ships had suffered the same fate. Their sails were in ruins, their retreat severed before it could even begin. ¡°T-They cut off our escape¡­¡± he muttered, eyes wide with disbelief. The crew around him remained motionless, their faces mirroring his shock. The precision. The speed. The sheer number of steel javelins. None of it made sense. ¡°Ballistas shouldn¡¯t be able to fire like that.¡± That was the only thought running through his head. On the Port Jola Ravenna¡¯s smirk widened as she observed the destruction. sound curled from the ballista platforms, the mechanisms still humming from their rapid assault. The sails had been shredded in perfect sequence, leaving the enemy utterly stranded. She exhaled in satisfaction, then turned her attention to the floating text in her vision. [Reputation System Log] +9 Points: Captain Connor is stunned and dreading the counterattack¡¯s continuation. +9 Points: Knight Jackson is stunned and dreading the counterattack¡¯s continuation. +9 Points: Knight Nealson is stunned and dreading the counterattack¡¯s continuation. ¡°Hmm¡­ So his name is Captain Connor?¡± she mused, tapping her chin. Raising another jasmine flower, she crushed it between her fingers, letting her voice echo across the battlefield once more. ¡°So, Captain Connor,¡± she said, her voice dripping with amusement. ¡°Will you surrender, or shall I continue?¡± Her words were accompanied by the ominous creaking of reloaded ballistas. On the Broken Ships Captain Connor stood frozen, his body stiff as though the very ocean breeze had turned to ice. He clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles turned white, his breath uneven. Sweat trickled down his temple as the full weight of the situation sank in. This was supposed to be a simple raid¡ªa quick in-and-out mission, an effortless mission. But instead, they had sailed straight into the jaws of a perfectly laid trap. His stomach churned as Ravenna¡¯s voice echoed once more across the shattered remains of his fleet. It wasn¡¯t just that she knew they were coming¡ªshe knew exactly who he was. ¡°How?¡± His mind raced through the possibilities. Had someone betrayed them? Had a spy infiltrated the viscount¡¯s ranks? Then it hit him. She hadn¡¯t sunk them. With those monstrous ballistas, Ravenna could have easily turned their ships into floating coffins, leaving no survivors to tell the tale. But instead, she had specifically aimed for their sails, leaving them stranded, vulnerable¡ªbut alive. ¡°Why?¡± Connor¡¯s eyes widened in realization, his heart pounding in his chest. ¡°The slaves.¡± ¡°Damn it!¡± he cursed under his breath. There was no other reason for this attack strategy. Ravenna was ruthless¡ªknown for swift, decisive action. If her only goal had been to eliminate them, she would have done so the moment they entered the port. But by sparing them, by rendering them unable to flee, she had made her objective painfully clear. There was someone valuable among the prisoners. Someone worth saving. If he could figure out who, he could turn this situation around. His expression hardened as he snapped out of his daze, spinning on his heel to face his men. ¡°Get below deck! Now!¡± he barked, his voice cutting through the stunned silence. ¡°Secure the slaves! Move!¡± His crew hesitated for only a second before scrambling into action, boots thudding against the wooden planks as they rushed toward the hatches. Connor¡¯s mind raced as he struggled to piece everything together. If Ravenna was willing to let them live just to retrieve someone, then whoever it was held serious importance¡ªenough to gamble an entire fleet¡¯s escape. ¡°Who could it be? A noble? A high-ranking official?¡± It didn¡¯t matter. If Ravenna wanted them, then they were now his only leverage. Gritting his teeth, Connor straightened his back and cast one last glance toward the port. The princess stood there, still watching, still waiting, completely in control. But the game wasn¡¯t over yet. If he played his cards right, he might just find a way out of this nightmare. 49. Conspired War Part 3: On The Eastern Dunes The wind howled softly over the eastern shore, carrying fine grains of sand across the moonlit dunes. The night sky stretched endlessly above, a tapestry of stars casting a cold silver glow over the barren landscape. In the distance, the palm groves swayed gently, their dark silhouettes blending into the rolling hills beyond. Unlike the heavily defended southern port, where Ravenna¡¯s forces had littered the waters with debris to slow down enemy ships before crippling them with spring powered ballista fire, this beach offered no such advantage. The invaders would recognize any unnatural obstruction and flee before committing to landfall. Here, a different strategy was required. John crouched low in the trench, the cool steel of his spyglass pressed against his eye as he scanned the horizon. The sea shimmered under the moonlight, its surface disturbed only by the slow-moving shadows of the incoming ships. He could make out four vessels, their dark sails blending into the night, creeping toward the shore with deliberate caution. His grip tightened around the spyglass. They were coming. He turned his head slightly and whispered to the knights hidden alongside him. ¡°As soon as their horses pass through here, jump down and let loose every bolt in your rapid-fire crossbows. Don¡¯t hesitate. Take down as many as you can before drawing your swords,¡± he instructed, his voice barely above the wind¡¯s whisper. A hushed murmur of acknowledgment spread among the soldiers as they adjusted their positions, gripping their weapons in anticipation. The plan was simple but deadly. The enemy would land under the cover of darkness, believing this remote beach to be unguarded. They would quickly disembark, mount their horses, and rush toward the city, eager to catch its defenders unaware. That moment¡ªwhen they were least prepared for resistance¡ªwas when John¡¯s squad would strike. The knights hidden on the dunes would rain down death with their crossbows the moment the enemy cavalry charged through the pass. At the same time, the crews manning the ballistas in the trenches would unleash a devastating barrage aimed directly at the stationary ships, destroying their masts before the invaders could retreat. It was a brutal and calculated ambush, designed to strike fear into the hearts of the enemy and leave them stranded on hostile shores. John exhaled slowly, steadying his nerves as he returned his gaze to the approaching ships. The vessels were beginning to dock now, their hulls scraping softly against the wet sand. Shadowed figures moved swiftly, unloading supplies and leading horses down wooden ramps onto the shore.The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. Though the night obscured their features, John could see the distinct outlines of armored riders mounting their steeds, their movements sharp and disciplined. The enemy ¡®pirates¡¯ wasted no time, forming into tight ranks before turning toward the dunes. John tensed. They were nearly in position.He ducked lower into the trench, his fingers tightening around the wooden frame of the ballista. Around him, his men did the same, their breath shallow, their hands steady despite the tension thickening in the air. Then, amidst the howling wind, he heard it¡ªthe muffled thud of hooves against the soft sand.They were coming. John clenched his jaw, his heart pounding like a war drum. He counted the beats in his head, waiting for the perfect moment. Then, with a sharp breath, he gave the signal. ¡°Now!¡± The stillness of the night shattered as a hail of crossbow bolts rained down from the dunes, slicing through the air with deadly precision. The enemy riders, caught off guard, barely had time to react before bodies began falling from their saddles, blood staining the sand beneath them. From above, the knights descended like wraiths, their swords gleaming under the pale moonlight as they crashed into the disoriented enemy with ruthless efficiency. The battle was swift and brutal, the cries of the wounded mingling with the clash of steel and the desperate whinnies of frightened horses. But John¡¯s attention remained locked on the ships. He lifted his spyglass, scanning the vessels docked along the shore. Three of the four ships had already been crippled, their masts shattered by the devastating ballista fire. Yet one still stood tall, its sails unfurling as it began to drift back into the open sea. His stomach dropped. ¡°The hell are you waiting for?! Reload and fire!¡± John barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. The ballista crews, despite the din of combat echoing from below, obeyed his command without hesitation. They worked quickly, leveraging the power of the newly designed spring-loaded ballistas, allowing for faster reloading compared to traditional models. The first shot was loosed with a twang of steel and wood, but it missed¡ªsailing harmlessly past the retreating ship. John gritted his teeth. ¡°Damn it! Aim properly! We can¡¯t let them escape!¡± The ballista teams adjusted, their hands moving with frantic precision as they took aim once more. Two more bolts were fired in rapid succession. This time, they struck true. The mast splintered apart with a thunderous crack, sending shards of wood flying as the structure collapsed onto the deck, bringing the ship to a dead stop. John let out a victorious shout, his men joining in the cheers. ¡°That¡¯s it! They¡¯re done for now!¡± But their celebration was cut short by a frantic voice from below. ¡°Vice Captain John!¡± A knight¡¯s urgent call rose above the sounds of battle. ¡°They tricked us!¡± John¡¯s heart lurched. What? Without wasting a second, he slid down the dune, sand kicking up around him as he rushed toward the source of the alarm. He found one of his knights kneeling over a fallen enemy, his face pale, his hands trembling as he pointed at the corpse. John¡¯s breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight. The so-called enemy soldier was clad in battered armor, his body still and lifeless, an iron collar wrapped tightly around his neck. Faint magical runes glowed along its surface, confirming John¡¯s worst fear. A servitude spell. These weren¡¯t enemy pirates. They were slaves. John¡¯s stomach twisted. ¡°They¡­ they sent the slaves disguised as them¡± the knight stammered, his voice heavy. John¡¯s eyes widened as realization dawned on him like a hammer to the skull. The enemy hadn¡¯t ridden into the ambush themselves. They had used the slaves¡ªdressed in armor, armed with second-rate weapons¡ªas nothing more than cannon fodder to fool them. 50. Conspired War Part 4: Ruthless Princess The so-called enemy soldier was clad in battered armor, his body still and lifeless, an iron collar wrapped tightly around his neck. Faint magical runes glowed along its surface, confirming John¡¯s worst fear. A servitude spell. These weren¡¯t enemy pirates. They were slaves. John¡¯s stomach twisted. ¡°They¡­ they sent the slaves disguised as knights,¡± the knight stammered, his voice heavy. John¡¯s eyes widened as realization dawned on him like a hammer to the skull. The enemy hadn¡¯t ridden into the ambush themselves. They had used the slaves¡ªdressed in armor, armed with second-rate weapons¡ªas nothing more than cannon fodder to fool them. At the Eastern Coastline ¨C On the Trapped Ships Lana coughed, her lungs burning as the dust settled around her. The air was thick with the scent of broken wood, rope, and the unmistakable tang of blood. All around her, her crew scrambled in a frantic daze, some tending to the wounded while others searched for their weapons amid the wreckage. She gritted her teeth as she forced herself upright, gripping the ship¡¯s railing for support. Pain flared through her side, but she ignored it. Her gaze swept over the scene, her pulse pounding as she registered the devastation. The mast had fallen, crushing two of her knights beneath its massive weight. Their sacrifice had spared her, pushing her out of the way just in time¡ªbut at the cost of their own lives. Lana¡¯s fingers tightened around the railing as she turned her eyes toward the sea. The ship next to hers had suffered the same fate, its masts snapped like brittle twigs, the jagged remains jutting into the sky like broken spears. ¡°What the hell was that?¡± she muttered, mind racing. No ordinary ballista could fire javelins with such force, let alone from that distance. She had fought in enough battles to know that much. Her breath hitched. ¡°They have mages with them.¡± It was the only explanation. Her heart pounded as she weighed her options. If the enemy had mages capable of enhancing their siege weapons, their initial plan of storming the city was suicide. The decision to send the slaves ahead in disguise had been a simple caution, but now she knew¡ªit had been the right one. Had she sent her own men instead, they would¡¯ve been slaughtered before even reaching the city gates. Grinding her teeth, Lana made her decision.This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°Everyone! Get the boats!¡± she commanded, her voice cutting through the chaos. Her crew hesitated for only a moment before scrambling to obey. She knew they were shaken¡ªmany of them had never faced a single battle before this was their first mission for many. But hesitation would only get them killed. ¡°Leave the slaves! Get as many supplies as you can!¡± she barked. There was no salvaging this mission. The battle was lost, and their only hope of survival was to escape. If they could take enough provisions, they might stand a chance of regrouping at sea. As her crew hurried to execute her orders, she allowed herself a small, bitter smirk. ¡°At least I sent half my crew to Captain Connor,¡± she muttered under her breath. If he had fared better than them, there might still be a chance to turn this around. At the Southern Coastline ¨C On the Trapped Ships The ships were chaos. The crackling of broken lanterns that spread flames, the distant clash of steel against the wood still ringing, and the anguished cries of the wounded filled the air. Onboard the leading vessel, Captain Connor¡¯s grip tightened around the hilt of his sword as he watched his men force the slaves into position. ¡°Jackson! Hold her properly! Use the fillet flower if you have to!¡± Connor snapped, his voice laced with urgency. Jackson flinched at the order, his hands trembling slightly as he shoved a struggling slave forward. Connor¡¯s plan was simple¡ªif Ravenna wanted the slaves, then they would use them as leverage. If they threatened to execute them, she might be forced to let them leave unharmed. But Jackson¡¯s stomach churned. Would it work? Princess Ravenna¡¯s reputation preceded her. Ruthless. Cunning. Unforgiving. She had brought entire noble houses to ruin over a single insult. Entire families had been wiped from existence for minor slights against her. Jackson¡¯s mind kept circling back to his own family¡ªhis mother, frail and sick in their tiny village near Ronin Town. He had only just been promoted from a squire to a knight. This mission was supposed to be his easy ticket to a noble title, to a better life for his mother. Now, as he stared into the terrified eyes of the slaves, the certainty of his own survival dwindled with each passing moment. ¡°Yes, Captain,¡± he muttered, shoving the slave forward once more, but his grip was unsteady. He prayed he would live to see his mother again. At the Southern Coastline ¨C On the Port [Reputation System Log] +9 Points: Knight Jackson is stunned and dreading the counterattack¡¯s continuation. Ravenna¡¯s sharp eyes flickered over the floating log, amusement curling at the corners of her lips. With a delicate motion, she tapped the entry to expand it. [Reputation Log] Title: Knight Name: Jackson House Reason: He is terrified of you. If you win this battle, he believes you will have his family¡ªespecially his sick mother¡ªexecuted. He desperately hopes to escape alive and complete his mission, securing a noble title to provide a better life for his family. Background: Jackson House is a young knight from a small village near Ronin Town. He spent years struggling to provide for his sick mother and saw this mission as an opportunity to elevate his family¡¯s status. He was promised a title upon success. Ravenna exhaled through her nose, a smirk tugging at her lips. ¡°Oh?¡± She lifted her hand, crushing another jasmine flower between her fingers. The fragrance mixed with the salty sea breeze, and as the petals crumbled, her voice boomed across the battlefield once more, laced with amusement and chilling certainty. ¡°Captain Connor,¡± she called, her voice carrying across the waters. ¡°I wonder¡­ just how much your men fear me.¡± She let her words linger, savoring the weight of them. Then, with an almost lazy confidence, she spoke again. ¡°Like Ser Jackson House over there? Doesn¡¯t he want to return to his sick mother?¡± 51. Conspired War Part 5: Emotional Manipulation Then, with an almost lazy confidence, Princess Ravenna¡¯s voice echoed across the battlefield, amplified by the crushed jasmine flowers she held delicately between her fingers. Her words sliced through the salty sea breeze, sharp as any blade, reaching the ears of every trembling knight aboard the battered ships. ¡°Like Ser Jackson House over there,¡± she her voice a silken thread laced with venom. ¡°Doesn¡¯t he want to return to his sick mother?¡± Jackson¡¯s heart nearly stopped. His grip on the trembling slave weakened, his breath hitching painfully in his chest. His face turned pale, eyes wide with terror. ¡°She knows my name.¡± ringing in his head. Worse than that¡ªshe knew about his mother. His frail, bedridden mother, tucked away in a modest cottage near Ronin Town, waiting for her son to return as a knight with tales of victory and a title to secure a better life for them both. This was not what he had signed up for. This mission was supposed to be simple¡ªa show of strength, a quick conquest. But now, the enemy wasn¡¯t just outmaneuvering them on the battlefield. Princess Ravenna had already invaded the deepest corners of their hearts, turning their fears into weapons sharper than any sword. She wasn¡¯t done. ¡°Or perhaps Ser Nealson,¡± her voice cooed again, the casual cruelty dripping from every word. ¡°Isn¡¯t he expecting to become a father soon? Doesn¡¯t he want to cradle his newborn in his arms, feel the warmth of life in this mortal realm? Or¡­¡± She paused for effect, her voice lowering into a whisper that still carried across the waves, ¡°¡­would he prefer to meet them in the Celestia Castle, beyond the veil of death?¡± Ser Nealson¡¯s face drained of color. His hand trembled around the hilt of his sword, his knuckles white with tension. Jackson could see the fear in his comrade¡¯s eyes¡ªthe same fear that gripped his own heart like a vine. Captain Connor¡¯s jaw clenched as he scanned the ship, his gaze shifting from one terrified knight to another. His men¡ªhis knights¡ªwere unraveling before his very eyes. Their resolve, once bolstered by pride and the promise of honor, was crumbling under the weight of Ravenna¡¯s words. ¡°How does she know this much about us?¡± Connor¡¯s mind raced, the realization chilling him more than the ocean spray. This wasn¡¯t the work of simple scouts or spies. This wasn¡¯t a report hastily gathered before battle. No¡ªRavenna spoke as if she knew each of them personally, as if she¡¯d been there when Nealson kissed his wife goodbye, as if she¡¯d sat by Jackson¡¯s mother¡¯s bedside.This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. ¡°She must already know that most of these knights are fresh recruits,¡± Connor thought grimly, tightening his grip on the slave he was using as leverage. ¡°Some of them aren¡¯t even officially knighted yet.¡± And Ravenna wasn¡¯t done breaking them. ¡°Do I even need to mention Dame Fedarika¡¯s little sister?¡± Ravenna¡¯s voice rang out again, soft and mocking. ¡°Oh¡­ how much I would hate to give the order for her beheading.¡± A strangled gasp escaped from Dame Fedarika, her composure shattering in an instant. Her sword clattered to the deck, forgotten as her mind spiraled with images of her innocent sister in danger. Jackson couldn¡¯t take it anymore. His legs felt weak, his chest tight with dread. ¡°C-Captain¡­ p-please¡­ can we s-surrender?¡± he stammered, his voice cracking under the weight of his fear. Connor spun toward him, fury flashing in his eyes. ¡°Don¡¯t you get it?!¡± he barked, his voice sharp and unforgiving. ¡°If she already knew all this, she would¡¯ve informed the Imperial Palace by now! But she hasn¡¯t! Why? Because she needs something from the slaves! That¡¯s why we still have leverage. HOLD THEM!¡± But his words fell flat, drowned out by the growing whispers of doubt among the crew. Then, as if to drive the final nail into their hearts, Ravenna¡¯s voice returned¡ªcool, amused, and devastating. ¡°Oh, just to be fair,¡± she began with a light chuckle, ¡°the Syndicate sold you out, Captain Connor. Mr. Gorg over there was one of my informants.¡± The words hit like a thunderclap. Connor¡¯s eyes snapped toward the Syndicate mercenaries scattered among his crew. His heart raced, disbelief mingling with rage. The knights followed his gaze, their fear twisting into suspicion. Mr. Gorg, a grizzled mercenary who had fought alongside them, shared their rations, laughed at their jokes now stood eerily still, his expression unreadable. ¡°You¡­?¡± Connor growled, his voice low and dangerous. The fragile alliance between the knights and the Syndicate mercenaries shattered in an instant. Swords were drawn¡ªnot against the enemy, but against each other. Accusations flew, voices rose, and chaos erupted on deck. On the Port ¨C Jola Island Ravenna stood atop the stone walls of Jola Island¡¯s fortified port, the breeze tugging at her dark cloak as she watched the distant ships descend into madness. A faint smile played on her lips, her dark black eyes gleaming with satisfaction. This was her battlefield. She didn¡¯t need to lift a sword when words could carve deeper wounds. Breaking the morale of inexperienced knights was child¡¯s play, especially when she had the perfect weapon¡ªinformation. The Reputation System was a window into the hearts and minds of her enemies. Every point she gained from their terror fed her insight, granting her intimate details about their lives, their hopes, and most importantly their fears. She crushed another jasmine flower between her fingers, the scent mingling with the salt air. [Reputation System Log] +9 Points: Knight Jackson is stunned and dreading the counterattack¡¯s continuation. She glanced at the log again, her grin widening. And thought ¡°They¡¯re falling apart faster than I thought.¡± Beside her, Hughes watched the chaos below, his brows furrowed in disbelief. His mind raced with questions he dared not voice aloud. How does she know all this? Was it truly Syndicate connections, as she claimed? Or¡­ was it something more? Marie¡¯s words echoed in his mind¡ª¡±Perhaps Master is blessed by the divine.¡± Hughes wasn¡¯t sure what to believe it or not anymore. 52. Conspired War Part 6: On The Western Cliffs On the Layered Rock Formation, Western Beach, Jola Island Dame Aisha stood tall atop the jagged, layered rock formations that jutted out like the spines of some ancient beast buried beneath the desert sands. The cool night breeze carried the salty tang of the nearby sea, mingling with the dust stirred by restless knights. Below, the dark silhouette of four ships crept along the coast, their sails drooping as they slowed to dock. Aisha¡¯s sharp eyes narrowed, the moonlight casting a silver sheen on her polished armor. She could see the faint figures moving about on the decks, preparing to make landfall. ¡°They¡¯ll cross through the narrow lane any moment now,¡± she murmured, her voice low but filled with authority. She raised her sword high, the blade reflecting a cold glint under the moon. ¡°Get ready!¡± Her command rippled through the ranks. The knights of Jola Island, clad in armor bearing the scars of past battles, stood poised behind spring powered ballistas mounted precariously on the uneven stone. The plan was simple: wait until the enemy ships passed the point of no return¡ªunable to retreat quickly¡ªand then strike, breaking their masts to trap them like rats in a cage. But as the tense minutes dragged on, something felt wrong. There was no sound¡ªno distant clatter of armor, no rhythmic beat of marching feet, not even the faintest whinny of horses. The invaders should¡¯ve been advancing toward the narrow pass below, yet the silence stretched unnervingly, pressing down on the knights like an invisible weight. Aisha¡¯s instincts screamed. Her body moved before her mind caught up, spinning sharply as she sensed movement behind her. Sparks flew as her blade clashed against another with a shriek of metal. The force of the blow jolted up her arms. She gritted her teeth, pushing back to gain distance. Standing there, his grin sharp and predatory, was Keith. His dark hair was tousled by the breeze, and his eyes gleamed with a feral amusement. ¡°Oh my, looks like I was right,¡± he drawled, his voice casual despite the lethal tension in the air. He twirled his sword with practiced ease, stepping back to allow his men to swarm over the rocks like shadows come to life. ¡°Men¡ªattack!¡± Aisha didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°Fire the ballistas!¡± she roared. The ballista crews sprang into action, their training kicking in despite the surprise attack. The spring contraptions groaned as they released deadly javelins, each made of steel. The projectiles arched through the dark sky like falling stars, slamming into the ships below with bone-rattling force. The enemy ships didn¡¯t stand a chance. The first volley shredded sails, splintered masts, and left tangled wreckage in its wake. Sending terrified screams echoing over the waves as chaos erupted aboard the doomed vessels. Keith¡¯s smug expression faltered as he glanced toward the shoreline, witnessing the destruction of his fleet. His jaw clenched, rage flickering behind his dark eyes. But there was no time to dwell on losses. He lunged at Aisha with a roar, his sword cutting through the air with deadly precision. Aisha parried, sparks flying once again as steel met steel. She grunted, pushing back against his strength, her boots skidding dangerously close to the cliff¡¯s edge. Keith pressed the attack, his strikes relentless, forcing her to retreat step by step.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere. All around them, the battle had erupted into brutal chaos. The sixty knights of Jola Island fought fiercely against the swarm of 120 so-called pirates¡ªthough these were no ordinary raiders. They moved with discipline, coordination betraying their facade. Blades clashed, shields splintered, and the ground grew slick with blood as both sides suffered heavy losses. Aisha caught sight of two of her knights falling¡ªone stabbed through the chest, another overwhelmed and dragged down beneath a pile of enemies. Fury flared in her chest, white-hot and blinding. Ducking beneath Keith¡¯s sweeping strike, she rolled away, narrowly avoiding a fatal blow that would¡¯ve sent her tumbling over the cliff. She came up near the edge, panting, her sword still firm in her grip. Her voice rang out, cutting through the noise of battle like a whip crack. ¡°USE THE RAPID-FIRE CROSSBOWS, DAMN IT!¡± The knights needed no further encouragement. Positioned behind makeshift barricades, squads of archers yanked the covers off newly issued rapid-fire crossbows, the experimental weapons designed for moments exactly like this. They weren¡¯t pretty, and they weren¡¯t precise, but they didn¡¯t need to be. Bolts rained down in deadly waves, tearing through the enemy ranks with ruthless efficiency. The pirates tried to shield themselves but it was no use against steel made arrows, the sheer volume of projectiles made it impossible to evade. Screams filled the night as men fell one after another, their bodies riddled with bolts. Keith snarled, realizing the tide was turning against him. With a furious cry, he charged Aisha once more, their blades locking in a brutal contest of strength and will. ¡°You think this will save you?¡± he spat, his face twisted with rage. Aisha¡¯s eyes burned with defiance. ¡°No,¡± she growled, pushing him back with all her might. ¡°But it¡¯ll kill you.¡± And with that, she drove her knee into his gut, knocking the wind from his lungs. As he staggered, she spun, her blade slicing through the night¡ªclean, precise. Keith¡¯s sword clattered to the ground, his body following shortly after. But the battle was far from over. Aisha didn¡¯t stop to catch her breath. She raised her sword high, rallying her remaining knights. ¡°FOR Her Highness!¡± she screamed. Her knights, bloodied and bruised, responded with a thunderous roar of their own. Their morale reignited, they surged forward with renewed fury, blades flashing and shields locking as they crashed into the enemy like an unstoppable tide. Southern Port of Jola Island Ravenna stood atop the fortified stone wall overlooking the sea. A smug, satisfied grin curled her lips as she observed the chaos unfolding aboard the enemy ships. The sound of shouting, clashing steel, and the desperate cries of men filled the salty night air. She crossed her arms, her cloak billowing slightly in the ocean breeze, amused by how easily the enemy¡¯s discipline crumbled. The knights and mercenaries aboard the ships were at each other¡¯s throats, their fragile alliance shattered by fear, distrust, and her carefully planted words. Ravenna¡¯s eyes briefly flicked to the floating notification in front of her. [Reputation System Log] +15 Points: Knight Jackson is panicking and is terrified of you. +12 Points: Captain Connor¡¯s authority is deteriorating, he is afraid of your next words. +18 Points: Syndicate mercenary Gorg is in open conflict with the knights and curses you. She chuckled softly, pleased with how the points were stacking up effortlessly. Manipulating them had been almost too easy¡ªjust a few well-placed words and veiled threats, and the enemy¡¯s cohesion unraveled like a poorly woven tapestry. ¡°Farming reputation points has never been this entertaining¡± she thought, her fingers lazily tapping against the hilt of her dagger. After a few more minutes of enjoying the spectacle, Ravenna decided it was time to offer them one last chance to surrender. She stepped forward, drawing a deep breath to project her voice across the water. But then¡ªsomething caught her attention. A faint glimmer in the distance, beyond the trapped ships. Subtle at first, like the flickering reflection of moonlight on waves¡­ but it wasn¡¯t the water. Her amusement vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp, calculating gaze. She snatched the spyglass from the nearby lookout and brought it to her eye, adjusting the focus. Hughes, who¡¯d been silently observing beside her, stiffened. His face paled as realization dawned. He grabbed his own spyglass, and within seconds, his voice rang out in alarm. ¡°Reinforcements!¡± Hughes shouted, panic creeping into his usually composed tone. ¡°They have reinforcements approaching from the Open Sea!¡± 53. Conspired War Part 7: Just Surrender The chaotic infighting aboard the stranded ships came to an abrupt halt as Captain Connor¡¯s voice rang out. ¡°Stop fighting among yourselves! look!¡± he bellowed, pointing past the wreckage of their crippled ships. The clashing swords stilled, and all eyes turned toward the horizon. A fresh wave of boats, smaller but numerous, was rapidly approaching from beyond the debris-filled waters. A commanding voice echoed from the reinforcements. ¡°Captain Connor! We are here to reinforce you¡ªby the orders of Dame Lana!¡± Relief flooded Connor¡¯s chest. Dame Lana had sent reinforcements. This wasn¡¯t just a glimmer of hope¡ªit was a real chance to escape. Their ships were trapped, the masts reduced to splinters thanks to the enemy¡¯s devastating ballistae. They had no way of setting sail, no way of retreating. But now, with these reinforcements arriving on smaller boats, some of his men could jump ship and escape to open waters. If they could make it back to the Ronin House, they could warn Lady Jessica, regroup, and decide on to move forward. Yes. That was the only path forward. Leaving behind the slaves¡­ That was unavoidable. It infuriated him to think that Ravenna would have them, but there was no other choice. The mission had already crumbled. Survival was now the priority. Connor cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted toward the reinforcements, his voice urgent. ¡°Alright! Just stay there! We will swi¡ª¡± Before he could finish, a thunderous TWANG split the night. A storm of javelins, launched from the ballistae on the port wall, tore through the air like harbingers of death. The first volley struck the approaching boats with terrifying precision. Wood shattered, splinters and gore exploding in every direction. The cries of dying men filled the night as bodies were flung into the sea, staining the water a deep crimson. The slaughter didn¡¯t stop there. Another volley followed. Then another. One by one, the boats were annihilated. Some capsized instantly, their occupants sinking beneath the waves. Others caught fire as the lanterns struck their hulls, sending burning men screaming into the ocean. The relentless assault continued until only a quarter of the boats remained afloat. The once-promising reinforcements had been reduced to a pathetic, bloodied remnant. Silence fell over the stranded ships. Connor stood frozen, his breath shallow, his mind struggling to comprehend the devastation. The range¡­ the accuracy¡­ the sheer firepower of those ballistas¡ª It was beyond anything he had ever seen. Their masts being destroyed was already an incredible display of power, but to strike down fast-moving boats from that distance? It defied reason. It shattered every expectation of siege weaponry. This wasn¡¯t just battlefield dominance. This was warfare rewritten. Then, Ravenna¡¯s voice came again, cutting through the heavy silence like a blade. ¡°Very bad idea, Captain Connor.¡± From her point on the port, Ravenna¡¯s tone was amused but laced with quiet menace. ¡°Just surrender. Or¡­¡± She let the words linger in the air before continuing, her voice dipping into something colder. ¡°¡­I might have to start taking drastic measures.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit. Captain Connor clenched his fists. His men¡ªthose who hadn¡¯t succumbed to fear¡ªturned to him, waiting for orders. But what orders could he give? They were stranded, outgunned, and the only reinforcements they had were now dead in the water. Up on the fortress wall, Hughes exhaled slowly, lowering his spyglass. He had personally given the order for the ballistae to fire, but even he was stunned by the results. ¡°This¡­¡± He muttered to himself, his mind racing. ¡°This will change how defensive battles are fought forever.¡± Eastern Coastline ¨C In the Waters Dame Lana gripped the oars tightly, her knuckles white. The rhythmic sound of water splashing against the wooden hull filled the tense silence as she and her remaining crew rowed away from their broken ships. Her mind was already made up¡ªthe mission was a failure. The slaves had to be abandoned. There was no saving them now. Escaping with as many men as possible was the only logical choice. She glanced over her shoulder at the dark, open sea stretching before them. The plan was simple¡ªregroup in open waters, assess their losses, and decide the next course of action. Captain Connor, whom she had sent half her crew to reinforce, would likely be making the same decision. "This is the best option," she muttered under her breath, trying to reassure herself. But before she could take another breath¡ª A silver streak of light ripped through the darkness. Lana barely had time to process it. The moment she caught sight of it, the projectile punched straight through her boat, slicing through the air with a horrifying whistle. Then¡ªpain. Unimaginable pain. Her vision blurred as her body was torn apart mid-air, sent flying into the sky in a mess of blood and shattered bone. The last thing she saw before everything faded into black was a sea of destruction¡ªevery single one of her crew¡¯s boats being obliterated by another relentless volley of ballista javelins. Screams echoed across the water. Then¡ªsilence. Eastern Coastline ¨C Atop the Dunes John stood atop the towering dunes, watching the massacre unfold. From his elevated vantage point, he had a clear view of the ballistae¡¯s devastating precision. The rapid-fire mechanism, powered by spring-mechanism, unleashed volley after volley, cutting down every last fleeing boat before they could reach open water. Within mere minutes, the sea was no longer a refuge¡ªit was a graveyard. One of the knights galloped up beside him, breathing heavily. "Vice Captain John!" the knight reported, his voice filled with awe. "The targets have been completely eliminated! No survivors!" John smiled, his grip tightening around the reins of his horse."Good." His voice carried a cold satisfaction. He turned his gaze toward the wreckage near the shore. "Now! We ride toward the ships and bring the slaves into the city!" A chorus of affirmations followed as his unit turned their steeds toward the coastline, galloping toward their next task. Western Beach ¨C The Layered Rock Formation The first rays of dawn began to creep over the horizon, casting a soft golden hue over the battlefield. The clash of steel had ended. Dame Aisha stood amidst the fallen, bloodied and victorious. Keith and his men had been wiped out. Their ambush had failed, and now, their bodies lay scattered across the rock formations, lifeless and still. She took a deep breath, wiping the sweat and blood from her brow before turning to her knights. "Alright, men!" she called, her voice filled with unwavering authority. "We ride to the coast and escort the slaves into the city!" There was no hesitation. Her knights mounted their horses, their armor glinting in the soft morning light, and thundered down the rocky path toward the beach. Southern Port ¨C The Last Stand of Captain Connor The silence was deafening. Connor stood on the deck of his crippled ship, staring at the absolute carnage around him. The bodies of his men floated lifelessly in the bloodied waters. The reinforcements he had pinned his hopes on were nothing but wreckage. The enemy had not only outmaneuvered him¡ªthey had outgunned him on a scale he never thought possible. His mind was a storm of conflicting thoughts. He had spent years building his name, years earning his place. And yet, all of it had crumbled in a single night. He clenched his fists, trembling with frustration, shame, and most of all¡ªdefeat. His crew was exhausted, broken, and trapped. Their rations wouldn¡¯t last long, and with the Imperial Army undoubtedly on its way, even if they fought back, it would only delay the inevitable. His men were greenhorns, inexperienced and already turning on each other out of fear and desperation. If left unchecked, they¡¯d tear each other apart before the enemy even arrived. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to swallow his pride. There was no escape. No hope. Connor exhaled sharply and finally shouted the words that sealed his fate. "W- We surrender!" The words tasted like poison on his tongue. But he knew¡ªit was the only choice left. 54. A New Morning After The War The first rays of dawn bathed the port in golden light as the dust settled on the long and grueling night. Standing on the wall, Ravenna exhaled sharply, her exhaustion weighing down on her. She turned to Hughes, who stood at attention beside her, awaiting orders. "Alright, round them up." Her voice was firm, yet laced with fatigue. "Throw them in the castle dungeon, and get the slaves to the northern estate. Set up a camp for them¡ªmake sure they have food, water, and medical care." "Understood, Your Highness," Hughes replied with a respectful nod. "I will also send word to the evacuated citizens at the northern estate, letting them know it''s safe to return to the city." Ravenna stretched, rolling her shoulders as a massive yawn escaped her lips. "Yeah, do that. Once everything is sorted, send word." She rubbed her tired eyes. "I''ll be heading to bed¡ªI need sleep." She had been awake for three nights straight¡ªtwo spent meticulously planning this battle and one enduring the endless hours of combat. Her mind and body were on the verge of collapse, and now that the fight was over, there was no reason to keep pushing herself. A carriage rolled up to the port, its wheels crunching against the Road. Ravenna didn¡¯t waste another second. She stepped inside, shut the door, and let exhaustion take over. The midday sun blazed high in the sky, its relentless heat piercing through the ornate windows of Ravenna¡¯s chamber. The heat dragged her from the depths of sleep, pulling her into groggy consciousness. She shifted beneath the silk sheets, eyes squinting against the golden light flooding her room. Her body still felt heavy, but her mind was already ticking away with thoughts. "I need to make electricity as soon as possible." She groaned, rolling onto her back, already feeling the unbearable heat of the day. [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 61 (4032/9400) Current Reputation Points: 22,621 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } She checked how many points she had gained after the battle then with a clap of her hands, she summoned her maids. Moments later, Alice entered, followed by a few others carrying fresh garments.You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. As they helped her dress, Ravenna glanced at Alice. "Ah, so the evacuated citizens have returned to the city?" Alice nodded as she tied the laces on Ravenna¡¯s sleeves. "Not all of them, but most have. Carriages have been running back and forth since morning to bring them home. The more important figures, including myself, arrived first to assist with resettlement." Ravenna gave a satisfied nod. "Good. Now, I need a letter drafted immediately. To Contact the Merchant Association and request a ship large enough to transport the war prisoners. There are some important discussions I need to have with the Ronin Family." Alice bowed slightly. "I will see to it right away, Your Highness." With her preparations complete, Ravenna made her way to the dining hall, where Marie was already waiting. "Master! Congratulations on defending the city!" Marie greeted her enthusiastically. Ravenna smirked as she sat down, picking up her utensils. "What¡¯s there to congratulate? The outcome was obvious from the start." As they ate, Ravenna casually dropped a bombshell. "Marie, you will be addressing the slaves we rescued from the pirates." Marie froze mid-bite, eyes widening. Alice, too, seemed taken aback. "M-Master? What do you mean?" Marie stammered, lowering her fork. Ravenna calmly cut a piece of her food. "The slaves fear me," she said, voice even. "Understandable, given their spineless inferior nature. If I were to address them directly, my words wouldn''t be reassuring. However, you, my disciple and a former slave yourself¡ªare the perfect person for the job." Marie swallowed hard, still stunned. A nervous look crossed her face. "I... I will do it." Ravenna finally smiled. "Good. I¡¯ll give you some pointers on what to say, so don¡¯t overthink it." Once lunch was over, Ravenna made her way to the city''s church, where High Priest James awaited her arrival. As she stepped through the entrance, the scent of incense filled her senses. James emerged from within, greeting her with a warm nod. "Welcome, Your Highness. I heard the defensive battle went smoothly, and the city is returning to normal?" Ravenna chuckled, a smirk playing on her lips. "Those sons of whores had no idea who they were fighting. Of course, it went smoothly, Your Holiness." They moved to a private chamber, where Ravenna handed James a thick document. "I need you to accelerate the construction efforts," she stated. "With the influx of new residents, we need more housing as soon as possible." James flipped through the pages, nodding. "I understand. However, we will have to postpone the ritual ceremony we had planned." "That¡¯s fine by me," Ravenna said dismissively. "We can conduct it after we''ve built enough housing to accommodate everyone. In the meantime, I''ll be traveling to the mainland to discuss certain matters with the Ronin Family. I expect progress to be well underway by the time I return." James gave a small bow. "It shall be done, Your Highness." With business concluded, Ravenna left the church and headed back to the Lord¡¯s Castle. Inside the castle, Ravenna strode purposefully toward the dungeons. Alice rushed to her side, a parchment in hand. "The letter for the Merchant Association is ready, Your Highness." Ravenna took it, scanning the contents before signing it with the imperial seal. "Have it sent immediately." Alice bowed and hurried off to carry out her orders. Meanwhile, at the dungeon entrance, Hughes was already waiting. He straightened as she approached, bowing slightly. "Your Highness, all prisoners have been secured in their cells. Captain Connor has been placed in the interrogation chamber as per your orders." Ravenna gave a slow nod, her expression unreadable. "Good," she said, her voice cold and sharp. Her heels clicked against the stone as she stepped forward. "Let''s go have a chat with him, shall we?" 55. War Prisoners The heavy iron doors of the dungeon groaned open, their rusted hinges echoing through the dimly lit corridor. A damp, musty scent filled the air, a mixture of mold, sweat, and despair. Flickering torches cast long shadows along the stone walls as Ravenna strode inside, her heels clicking sharply against the cold floor. Waiting for her in the dimly lit interrogation chamber was Captain Connor, seated on a simple wooden chair, his wrists and ankles shackled with thick iron chains. His once-pristine armor was stripped away, leaving him in a worn tunic, stained with dirt and dried blood. Though bound, he still held himself with a semblance of composure, though his eyes betrayed the exhaustion and anxiety gnawing at him. Ravenna took her seat across from him, her posture relaxed but her piercing gaze as sharp as a predator eyeing its prey. She smirked, her voice dripping with amusement. ¡°Well, well¡­ Look at this fool who dared to challenge me,¡± she mused, tilting her head slightly. Connor lifted his head, his expression unreadable. ¡°I greet Your Highness,¡± he said, his voice steady despite his situation. Ravenna scoffed, crossing her legs. ¡°Oh, trying to maintain your dignity now? Come on, Ser Connor. You disguised yourself as a pirate to attack my dukedom. Whatever honor you had as a knight is long gone.¡± Her tone was laced with mockery, her words cutting deeper than any sword. Connor swallowed hard but managed a curt nod. ¡°I¡­ I cannot deny it, Your Highness,¡± he admitted. ¡°I am ashamed of my actions, but I had no choice. I was following orders.¡± Ravenna let out a short, dry laugh. ¡°Ah, the age-old excuse. ¡®I was just following orders.¡¯ How convenient.¡± She leaned forward, her expression darkening. ¡°Let¡¯s get to the heart of the matter, shall we? Both your eastern and western beach squads were utterly annihilated. Only a quarter of your forces remain, locked up in these dungeons.¡± Connor¡¯s jaw tightened as he absorbed the weight of her words. His fingers twitched slightly, the only sign of his inner turmoil. After a long pause, he gave a heavy nod. ¡°Dame Lana and Keith¡¯s squads¡­ they¡¯re gone, then?¡± His voice was low, almost as if speaking the words aloud made it real. Ravenna didn¡¯t soften. ¡°Yes. And now, I want the names of the knights and mercenaries among your remaining men who hold noble titles or are related to noble families.¡± Her eyes bore into his. ¡°I trust, as a knight, you will honor the rules of war?¡± Connor took a slow breath before nodding. ¡°Once you allow me to meet with my men, I will account for those of noble birth, their relatives, and any officers of strategic importance.¡± Ravenna leaned back, satisfied. It was a standard wartime practice¡ªransom negotiations for captured nobles and high-ranking officers. Their worth would now be determined not by their skill in battle, but by how much their masters were willing to pay for their release. ¡°Good,¡± she said, rising from her seat. ¡°We leave for the mainland in a few days. Whether or not your masters want you back¡­ well, that remains to be seen.¡± She turned on her heel, her cloak billowing slightly as she strode towards the exit.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience. Connor remained silent, staring at the stone floor as she disappeared through the door. Back in her study, Ravenna sank into her chair, rubbing her temples as she reviewed the war report. Scrolls and parchments were stacked high on her desk, detailing the battle¡¯s aftermath. Her eyes skimmed over the figures: Twelve soldiers dead in the western cliffs. Several militia members were injured. The worst blow had been the surprise attack from Keith¡¯s mercenary squad, which had caught Dame Aisha¡¯s forces off guard. Those twelve men had died holding the line, ensuring that the city remained standing. Ravenna exhaled slowly. ¡°A communal funeral service must be arranged,¡± she murmured, picking up a quill. She quickly penned a letter to the Herptian Church, requesting them to conduct the ceremony in honor of the fallen. Once she finished, she set the letter aside and turned her attention to the shimmering Reputation System window that hovered before her. [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 61 (4032 / 9400 EXP) Current Reputation Points: 22,821 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } Ravenna tapped her finger against the desk, observing how the numbers continued to rise steadily. ¡°I gained quite a lot of points¡­ and they¡¯re still increasing,¡± she muttered, narrowing her eyes. Pushing aside her curiosity about the system for now, she pulled a fresh sheet of parchment toward her and began drafting Marie¡¯s speech for when she addressed the rescued slaves. The words had to be chosen carefully¡ªmeasured, precise. The golden light of the setting sun seeped through the high arched windows, casting long shadows across the study. The air smelled faintly of parchment, wax, and the lingering embers of the fireplace. Just as she finished the first draft, a firm knock echoed against the heavy oak doors. ¡°Come in,¡± she called, her voice calm but commanding. The door opened, and Alice stepped inside, her movements swift and precise as always. She carried a letter in one hand and a neatly bound report in the other. ¡°The Merchant Association has confirmed their response,¡± Alice announced, placing the letter on Ravenna¡¯s desk. ¡°They will be sending two ships in two days. However, they have included an invoice demanding three mana stones as payment.¡± Ravenna arched an eyebrow but said nothing. Alice continued, holding out another document. ¡°This is the detailed report from Captain Connor regarding the ¡®pirate¡¯ operation.¡± Ravenna accepted the papers, flipping through them with sharp eyes. ¡°Place the invoice here,¡± she said, motioning toward the corner of her desk. Alice complied with a swift nod before exiting the room, leaving Ravenna alone with the numbers and reports. She exhaled deeply, tapping her quill against her chin as she analyzed Connor¡¯s account of the battle. "I¡¯ll also have to demand reparations for the costs I will incurre to break the servitude spells placed on the rescued slaves,¡± she murmured to herself. Slavery was a grave offense under the Imperial Laws of Ancorna¡ªone of the founding principles of the empire¡¯s legal code. Unlike many neighboring nations where slave trade flourished, Ancorna had outlawed it entirely. The reason was simple: The Hero Luminous, one of the greatest legends in history, had once been a slave himself. He had risen from chains to fight alongside the Twelve Gods, ultimately aiding in the defeat of the Absolute Being. His origins shaped the empire¡¯s stance¡ªno soul would be bought or sold within Ancorna¡¯s borders. However, while trading slaves within the empire was strictly forbidden, the ownership of slaves brought from outside was a murkier issue. Many of the empire¡¯s vassal states and neighboring kingdoms thrived on slavery, and enforcing immediate liberation whenever they crossed into Ancorna¡¯s borders was politically and economically impossible. Thus, the law stood firm against trade but turned a blind eye to possession. Ravenna smirked, leaning back in her chair. ¡°I have quite the leverage to extort the Ronin Family, don¡¯t I?¡± she murmured, a dark chuckle escaping her lips. The upcoming meeting with them would be¡­ entertaining, to say the least. 56. Arrival In Ronin Mansion The salty breeze carried the scent of the sea through the bustling merchant district of Ronin Town, where harbor workers went about their usual routines. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the wooden piers. Among the workers, a young boy wiped sweat from his brow as he noticed something unusual. "Whoa¡­ did we have a large ship scheduled to arrive today?" he asked, nudging his co-worker. The other boy, slightly older and more experienced, glanced toward the incoming vessel. "Not that I know of," he replied, scratching his head. "I remember the Merchant Association¡¯s ships set sail for Jola just yesterday¡­ could be one of them returning early. Well, doesn¡¯t really matter. We¡¯re getting paid either way." The two boys straightened their backs, eyeing the incoming merchant ship with anticipation. Unlike regular cargo shipments, which followed prearranged agreements, unexpected arrivals meant negotiations. Merchant ships that arrived unannounced often needed extra hands to unload their goods quickly, and that meant the workers could bargain for a higher wage than usual. It was a rare opportunity to earn more coin. However, as the ship finally docked, something unexpected happened. A wooden bridge was lowered onto the pier, but instead of crates and barrels being unloaded, rows of knights in polished armor marched down onto the harbor. A caravan of carriages followed, their black and gold embellishments shimmering under the midday sun. The gathered workers, eager to strike a deal just moments ago, froze in place as their eyes locked onto a familiar sigil emblazoned on the lead carriage. The imperial crest. Instantly, a wave of realization spread among the dockhands. Without hesitation, everyone dropped to their knees in a show of respect. No one dared speak. No one dared move. This was not a merchant vessel. This was an Imperial envoy. As the last of the carriages rolled away, breaking the eerie silence, a low murmur arose from the workers left behind. "I¡¯d rather not negotiate wages with her ship," one boy muttered under his breath. His voice trembled slightly as he glanced at the remaining knights stationed on the deck of the anchored vessel. "Why?" his companion whispered, eyes still fixed on the disappearing carriages. The boy shuddered. "I heard¡­ she cuts off fingers for dropping something in front of her." His companion swallowed hard, nodding in silent agreement. No one wanted to test that rumor. Inside the grand halls of the Ronin Viscount¡¯s Mansion, the air was thick with tension. "What the hell do you mean, ¡®Her Highness is coming to negotiate war reparations¡¯?!" Jessica Ronin, slammed her hands onto the long table in front of her. Her piercing blue eyes burned with frustration as she glared at her father, Edward Ronin, who remained eerily calm despite the sudden crisis. Edward adjusted his collar and met his daughter¡¯s furious gaze with measured composure. "Exactly that," he said in a low, even tone. "She has just arrived at the harbor and sent us an official notice. She will be here shortly." Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings. Jessica exhaled sharply, pressing her fingers against her temple as if trying to will away a headache. "Damn it¡­" she cursed under her breath. "That moron Connor couldn¡¯t even defeat 300 knights despite commanding a force of over 800?! He was supposed to teach her a lesson, not give her leverage over us!" Edward didn¡¯t react to her anger. His mind was already working through their limited options. "This isn¡¯t the time for pointless frustration," he said, voice steady. "We barely have enough time to prepare a proper response before she arrives. Focus, Jessica." Jessica clenched her fists, trying to regain control of her thoughts. "Fine," she muttered, forcing herself to think. "We need to establish negotiation terms before she dictates them. We must minimize what she can take from us. If we let her extort us bare, we won¡¯t recover from this." Edward nodded approvingly. "Precisely. The Raven of the Sun Palace doesn¡¯t come for petty sums¡ªshe comes to take everything she can. We must be ready." As Jessica bit her lip, already formulating a strategy, the sound of hoofbeats echoed from the streets outside. Inside her luxurious black-and-gold carriage, Ravenna leaned against the window, her deep dark eyes glinting with amusement as she observed the Ronin Mansion growing larger in view. "Not too shabby," she murmured to herself, the faintest smirk tugging at her lips. "They must be filthy rich." The mansion¡¯s grand iron gates creaked open, allowing the Imperial carriages to roll into the courtyard, where rows of servants and knights stood stiffly in place. The moment the lead carriage came to a halt, Edward Ronin stepped forward, dressed in his finest noble attire. With practiced grace, he extended a hand toward the carriage door, offering to escort his unexpected guest. The door swung open, and Ravenna emerged. She was adorned in a gown, crafted from fine, flowing silk in deep crimson, embroidered with golden accents. The dress was designed for both nobility and the sweltering heat of the northern province¡ªa high slit ran along one side, revealing her toned leg with every step, while the low neckline balanced elegance with temptation. The fabric clung to her form just enough to hint at imperial arrogance, while the detached sleeves, draped loosely around her arms, gave her a carefree yet commanding presence. Ravenna took Edward¡¯s hand but didn¡¯t let him guide her. Instead, she descended from the carriage with the poise of a predator stepping onto foreign territory. Her lips curled into a mocking smile. "You have quite the manners, Lord Edward," she mused, her voice dripping with amusement. "For someone who tried to pull such an embarrassing stunt." Edward, composed, bowed his head slightly. "We may not be efficient in warfare, Your Highness¡­ but we do have our honor." Ravenna scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Honor? Is that what you call it?" With that, she stepped past him, leading the way inside the mansion without waiting for an invitation. Her knights, including Hughes, followed closely behind, their presence a silent reminder of her authority. The grand halls of the Ronin Mansion were decorated with rich panels, golden chandeliers, and opulent rugs that muffled the sound of their footsteps. However, it was not the wealth that caught Ravenna¡¯s attention¡ªit was the portraits. Along the towering walls, large oil paintings depicted generations of the Ronin family, each ancestor staring down with solemn expressions. Ravenna smirked as she glanced at them. Would they be proud of their descendants now? "So," she mused, glancing sideways at Edward as they ascended the main staircase toward his study, "was this entire debacle a family effort, or was it just a childish tantrum of an arrogant greenhorn?" Edward, walking beside her, did not falter."I would say¡­ a bit of both, Your Highness," he admitted smoothly. Though his expression remained calm, Ravenna could feel the tension lurking beneath his noble fa?ade. He knew that today, he was escorting a raven of death into the heart of his own home. And not just any raven¡ªan unpredictable one. Finally, they reached the study doors, which a butler swiftly pushed open. Inside, standing in perfect posture, was Jessica Ronin. She was dressed in a northern Ancorna noblewoman¡¯s gown, suited for the region¡¯s oppressive heat. The fabric was a light blend of silk and chiffon, dyed in shades of deep emerald green, accentuating her golden-blonde hair. The dress, though modest in design, featured a subtle slit along the side for ease of movement, and the off-shoulder cut left her collarbones exposed, balancing formality with allure. The effect was simple yet undeniably regal. Jessica¡¯s piercing blue eyes met Ravenna¡¯s deep dark ones, and for a fleeting moment, the air between them crackled with unspoken tension. Then, Jessica bent her knee in a graceful curtsy and spoke in a clear, unwavering voice. "Greetings, Your Highness." 57. Negotiations Ravenna leaned back against the plush velvet of her chair, crossing one leg over the other with deliberate ease. Her deep black eyes gleamed with amusement as she examined Jessica Ronin. "You seem quite grown since I last saw you, Lady¡ªah, my mistake," Ravenna corrected herself with an insincere smile. "Viscountess Jessica. Congratulations on succeeding the title." Jessica, seated across from her, maintained her practiced composure, her lips curling into a polite smile. "Of course, Your Highness. It has been, what, three years since we last met? I was but a child back then." Edward, seated beside his daughter, remained silent, his eyes carefully watching the exchange. Ravenna let out a light chuckle, resting her chin on her hand. "You''re right about that. Though, it seems your growth was only physical¡ªnot so much mental." For the briefest moment, a crack appeared in Jessica¡¯s perfectly poised expression. "Well," Jessica said, voice clipped but controlled, "we should begin discussing the matter you are here for, Your Highness. Why don¡¯t we keep the¡­ unruly taunts aside for now?" Ravenna smirked, leaning forward slightly, as if enjoying a private joke. "Oh, of course. I wouldn¡¯t want to waste my breath on spineless cowards when there are more pressing matters at hand." Jessica¡¯s fingers twitched, but she did not rise to the bait. Ravenna continued smoothly. "You sent 500 knights and 300 mercenaries to attack my island, disguised as pirates¡ªhow thoughtful. You planned to dump slaves in my territory, clearing yourselves of suspicion regarding your little dealings with the Hercules criminal syndicate. Not to mention the 2,000 slaves you had on those ships¡ª" she tilted her head mockingly, "¡ªwho could have easily been ordered to fight as well. Given the circumstances, I¡¯ll be considering every last one of them as part of your offensive forces." Jessica¡¯s lips parted, anger flashing in her eyes. "That¡ª" She was immediately cut off by her father. Edward Ronin¡¯s calm, measured voice broke the tension. "We understand, Your Highness," he said firmly. Jessica inhaled sharply, gathering herself, then cleared her throat. "So, you have not reported our dealings to the Imperial Court¡ªthat must mean you are open to a negotiation on this matter." Ravenna tilted her head, feigning amusement. "Ha! Look at you¡ªalready playing the part of a proper lord." Jessica said nothing, only watching Ravenna carefully as she continued. "Yes, I could have your family dismantled with just a single word. I have all the evidence I need. However¡ª" she lazily twirled a strand of her jet-black hair, "¡ªthat would also put me at a disadvantage." Jessica studied her for a moment before speaking. "If our family falls, Count Donile will take over our territory," she said steadily. "And you will be back to square one, since Count Donile is a loyal follower of Prince Landon." She paused, letting the words sink in before adding, "So any prospect of trade will be impossible again. Which means¡­" she met Ravenna¡¯s gaze evenly, "you want us to allow Jola Dukedom to trade in our town." Ravenna¡¯s deep dark eyes gleamed, and a slow chuckle escaped her lips. "Now where was this comprehensive brain when you decided to attack my dukedom?" The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. Edward Ronin exhaled and straightened his posture. "Alright, we will open trade between the merchants of Ronin Town and Jola," he declared. Jessica¡¯s jaw tightened. The way her father was conceding so easily unsettled her. It felt as if he were still the Viscount, making decisions without consulting her. The way he spoke, with such authority, made her feel like a disciple again rather than the one who had succeeded him. Ravenna, however, barely acknowledged Jessica¡¯s irritation. She simply nodded, leaning back in her chair. "I¡¯m not particularly interested in trade networks, but it''s a nice bonus. Now, let¡¯s discuss the monetary reparations." Jessica folded her arms. "We can follow imperial law regarding war reparations," she said bluntly before Edward could speak. Her father immediately shot her a sharp glare. Jessica felt a wave of regret settle in. That had been a misstep. She was supposed to negotiate¡ªnot offer the worst possible terms without discussion. She could already feel Ravenna¡¯s satisfaction radiating across the table. Ravenna¡¯s lips curled into a wicked smile. "Oh, fantastic," Ravenna said, her tone mockingly sweet. "I thought you might want to discuss a more¡­ flexible method of calculating damages. But if you insist on imperial law, that makes things so much easier for me." Jessica felt her stomach sink. Imperial war reparations were meant for officially declared wars, not covert military attacks disguised as piracy. Paying by imperial law meant treating this skirmish as an official battle, which was an accounting nightmare for them since they can¡¯t really address it in the official records. It would also force them to pay far more than if they had proposed a separate arrangement. Ravenna took a document from Hughes, and began listing the terms. "As per Imperial Law, a noble with the rank of Baronet or Baron must be compensated 500 gold coins if returned alive and 250 gold if deceased." She paused, smirking. "You deployed three Baronets and two Barons, along with thirteen high-ranking members of the Hercules Syndicate, whom I will also count as Baronets¡ªsince, after all, they were leading combat units in your attack." Jessica clenched her fists. "Sadly, only one of your titled knights survived¡ªyour lead knight, Baron Connor. That means you owe me nine mana coins and 500 gold coins." she feigned sympathy. Jessica and Edward¡¯s eyes widened in shock. They knew they had lost some men¡ªbut hearing the actual numbers was staggering. These were trained knights with noble titles¡ªthey weren¡¯t supposed to die so easily. Ravenna continued without a hint of mercy. "Additionally," she said, flipping the page, "Imperial law demands that every 50 enemy combatants warrant 15 mana coins in compensation. Since you sent a total of 2,800 forces, that brings us to¡­ 840 mana coins owed." Jessica felt her breath hitch. That was already an astronomical sum, but Ravenna wasn¡¯t done yet. "The damages to my city," Ravenna went on, "as well as the cost of breaking the servitude spell placed on all 2,000 slaves, bring the total to¡­ a round sum of 1,300 mana coins." Jessica snapped upright. "That¡¯s absurd!" she nearly shouted, slamming her hands on the table. "Why would you even break the servitude spell?! This is just a ploy to extort money from us!" The room fell into silence. Then¡ªBang! Ravenna slammed her hand against the desk, sending a sharp crack through the air. "You dare raise your voice in front of me?!" she hissed, her tone dropping into something dangerous. Jessica¡¯s blood ran cold. Edward, too, visibly tensed, his fingers curling into a fist at his side. Ravenna¡¯s piercing glare bore into them both as she continued. "I have to break their spells," she snapped, "because there is no way I can explain having 2,000 slaves in my domain without exposing your family¡¯s little visit to my dukedom!" She leaned forward, her voice dripping with menace. "So, tell me¡ªshould I get myself in trouble for having slaves in my territory?" she asked mockingly. "Or should I simply throw your family under the bus? Because, frankly, I prefer the latter option." Jessica¡¯s face paled. "I could always send the slaves to the Imperial Solarius Church," Ravenna continued. "I imagine they¡¯d pay me handsomely for rescuing them from the Ronin family¡¯s clutches. What do you think, Lord Edward?" Jessica¡¯s father immediately raised a conciliatory hand. "You do not need to say it twice, Your Highness," Edward said smoothly, doing his best to calm her. "We will pay." Ravenna¡¯s fiery glare remained on them for a moment longer before she leaned back with a satisfied smirk. "However," Edward continued, "producing such an absurd sum as 1,300 mana coins will take time. What is the deadline?" ¡°Oh I have a better solution for that,¡± Ravenna tapped the table and smiled ¡°You see, I was thinking of opening a gambling house in Ronin Town¡± 58. A Thousand and Three Hundred Mana Coins Ravenna sat comfortably in the cabin of her ship, her gaze fixed on the rolling waves outside the small circular window. With a quiet scoff, she muttered to herself, "Ha... It¡¯s absurd how vast the economic gap between peasants and nobles truly is." The Ronin family had agreed to pay the astonishing 1,300 mana coins in reparations. It was an amount so immense that a peasant family could toil away for generations and never see even a fraction of it. A single mana coin was already beyond reach for most commoners, yet nobles traded in thousands as if it were mere pocket change. She let out a quiet breath, eyes flicking back to the document she had signed just hours ago. "One thousand three hundred mana coins¡­" she repeated under her breath, running her fingers along the elegant ink strokes of the agreement. The terms had been structured strategically. Instead of demanding full payment upfront, Ravenna had secured her compensation through tax exemptions. Over the next five years, the Ronin family would be exempt from taxing the gambling houses she planned to build in Ronin Town. The amount waived would be deducted from the total sum they owed her. On top of that, she had also negotiated a prime piece of land, a location of her choosing¡ªto establish her gambling empire in their territory. It was a win-win for her; not only would she recover the debt, but she would also gain a permanent foothold in the Ronin region¡¯s economy. Her lips curled into a satisfied smile. ¡°Well¡­ I have 200 mana coins now," she murmured, glancing at the first payment she had received. The Ronin family had paid an initial 200 mana coins upfront, with an additional 50 mana coins set to arrive in the coming weeks¡ªthis amount serving as war reparations from the larger debt. Of course, she had spent some funds during this trip as well. Three mana coins had gone toward various purchases, leaving her with a net gain of 196 mana coins from this transaction alone. Her fingers traced the edges of the parchment as she leaned back, settle in. Morgen Dukedom, Kingdom of Estra, Vassal Kingdom to Ancrona Empire, Far South from mainland Ancorna bordering Conley Empire. The howling blizzard raged on, thick sheets of snow swallowing the land in a suffocating white haze. Against the merciless storm, a group of soldiers stumbled forward, their breath ragged, their bodies trembling¡ªnot just from the cold, but from the terror chasing at their heels. Two monstrous orcs¡ªhulking creatures nearly twice the size of a man¡ªlet out guttural roars, their powerful legs tearing through the snow as they bore down on their prey. Their crude weapons, massive spiked clubs, were already swinging downward, ready to crush the terrified men beneath them. And then¡ªa flash. Before the clubs could reach their targets, a silver streak cut through the air with lightning speed. A sickening slice followed, and before the orcs even realized what had happened¡ªtheir heads were already gone. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. The massive creatures tumbled forward, their lifeless bodies crashing into the frozen ground, sending a spray of snow and blood into the air. The soldiers, frozen in shock, barely had time to process what had happened before their savior stepped forward. Eugene stood among the fallen monsters, wiping his gleaming sword clean of their tainted blood. His expression remained cold, unaffected by the carnage he had just wrought. Seated atop a sturdy warhorse nearby, Prince William observed the scene, shaking his head in a mix of admiration and disbelief. Next to him, another horse¡ªEugene¡¯s¡ªstood waiting, evidence that the swordsman had dismounted mid-charge just to cut down the beasts in time. William let out a chuckle, his breath visible in the frigid air. ¡°No matter how many times I witness it, I¡¯m still fascinated by the speed of your swordplay,¡± he remarked. Eugene, already climbing back onto his horse, replied calmly without a hint of pride. ¡°It¡¯s all thanks to the Pendina Flower embedded in my sword, Your Highness. I¡¯ve told you this before.¡± William laughed again, his gaze lingering on the ornate weapon in Eugene¡¯s grasp. ¡°Perhaps, but no one else can handle its magic as effortlessly as you.¡± Eugene offered no response. Instead, his focus shifted to the shadowed silhouette of a dungeon entrance coming into view ahead. William sighed. ¡°How long do we have to keep doing this, Eugene? You told me something important would happen, but for the past month and a half, all we¡¯ve done is kill magical beasts. I understand that securing this dungeon helps stabilize the dukedom, and I know it bolsters my reputation¡­ but¡ª¡± Eugene cut him off, his voice unwavering. ¡°Just a little longer, Your Highness. Once we reach the second floor today, the truth will be revealed.¡± William exhaled through his nose, frustration evident. He wasn¡¯t blind¡ªhe knew the political game that was being played. Prince Landon had somehow managed to convince the Council of Vassal States to mobilize the Imperial Army. However, the task of leading the operation had fallen onto William. Landon was gaining the political merit for rallying the imperial army into vassal states region. Meanwhile, William was here in the freezing wasteland, knee-deep in blood and snow, doing the dirty work. Of course, Emperor Andrew had arranged for this outcome. The people¡¯s champion, they had called William, ever since he dismantled several underground black markets in the capital. The Emperor had seized the opportunity and declared that, since William was already in the region, he should personally lead the dungeon operation. This was clearly his way of evening out the playing field since William was gaining too much of a stronghold in the capital. And yet¡­ Eugene had predicted all of this. It was Eugene who had insisted they attend the council meeting in the first place. It was Eugene who had foreseen how the game would play out. And so, despite his mounting exhaustion, William chose to believe in him. ¡°Fine,¡± William muttered, gripping the reins of his horse. Together, they descended into the dungeon once more¡ªfor what felt like the thousandth time in the past month. Meanwhile in the north estate, Jola island The North Estate¡¯s courtyard was filled with people, the air heavy with an uneasy silence. Hundreds of slaves stood gathered under the open sky, their expressions a mix of confusion, uncertainty, and wary hope. Among them stood Bradon and his family, their eyes fixed on the makeshift stage at the center of the courtyard. The wooden platform, hastily constructed yet sturdy, was where a single figure now stood, facing the crowd. Marie. She could feel their eyes on her¡ªhundreds of them¡ªeach gaze heavy with expectation. She clenched her fists, her palms damp with sweat, and forced herself to stand tall. This was her moment. Ravenna had given her guidelines, a few key points that needed to be addressed, but the speech itself¡ªthe words, the tone, the delivery¡ªwas entirely up to Marie. And that realization only made the weight on her shoulders heavier. Her heart pounded against her ribs as she swallowed the lump in her throat. This was nothing like her past as a slave. She had never spoken before a crowd like this, never been the voice of change for so many people. But Ravenna trusted her. That alone gave her the courage to push forward. Marie took a deep breath, steeling herself, before raising her voice over the murmuring crowd. ¡°Hello, everyone.¡± 59. Addressing the Slaves Marie took a deep breath, steeling herself, before raising her voice over the murmuring crowd. ¡°Hello, everyone.¡± But her voice barely carried past the first few rows. The crowd remained restless, their conversations drowning her out. Panic surged in her chest. Had she already failed? Sensing her unease, Alice¡ªstanding beside her¡ªgently patted her back. She slipped a small jasmine flower into Marie¡¯s palm and whispered, ¡°Deep breaths. Don¡¯t be so stiff.¡± Marie blinked, realizing she had completely forgotten about the jasmine flower. A wave of embarrassment washed over her. Clenching the flower between her fingers, she crushed it. A faint golden shimmer spread through the air as the spell activated. She took another deep breath before calling out once more, this time with a newfound force behind her voice. ¡°H-HELLO, EVERYONE!¡± This time, her words boomed across the courtyard, carrying all the way to the farthest reaches of the gathered crowd. A hush fell over the slaves as all eyes turned to her, truly noticing her for the first time. Among the crowd, Bradon narrowed his eyes. Something about that voice felt strangely familiar. He squinted at the girl standing on the platform, her face just distant enough to be unclear. Beside him, his son Samuel suddenly pointed, his brows furrowing. "Father, isn''t that the girl from our neighboring village?" Bradon¡¯s wife, Camilia, gasped softly as she, too, recognized the young woman. "Yes! I remember her now! She used to live alone with her father, didn¡¯t she? They would visit our village every other week to buy firewood." Bradon¡¯s eyes widened in realization. It all clicked into place. "Oh! That lovely little lady¡­ But what is she doing here?" Before anyone could voice another thought, Marie¡¯s voice rang out once more, firm and clear. "I am Marie Leon! The Disciple of the Esteemed Princess Ravenna Solarius¡ªDuchess of Jola Dukedom!" The weight of her declaration settled over the crowd. Whispers rippled through the slaves, their wariness evident. Marie didn¡¯t waver. She knew what they were thinking¡ªthe same doubts that had plagued her once. "I know many of you are wondering¡ªare we simply your new masters? Will you continue to suffer under the chains of unjust slavery?" Marie let the question hang in the air before answering, her voice firm. "The answer is NO!" A stunned silence followed. "Princess Ravenna has made a choice¡ªa choice most nobles would never make. She chose not to sink the ships that carried you here, even though your so-called ¡®masters¡¯ attacked this land. She could have destroyed everything, let you all drown alongside them, but she didn¡¯t. She spared you!" Murmurs spread through the crowd. What she said was true¡ªthe pirates and syndicate members had been swiftly captured, yet their ships had not been sunken, nor had they been left to die at sea. And yet, the skepticism remained. Ravenna Solarius. A name both feared and respected. Stories of her ruthlessness and unshakable authority had spread across the empire. Many still believed this was a trick¡ªthat she would find another way to exploit them. Marie felt their uncertainty. She knew it would take more than words to convince them. "Yes! My master is ruthless and blunt. That much is true!" She paused for a moment, bracing herself before continuing. "But¡­ she also cares about her people, even if she has a strange way of showing it." The murmurs deepened. The contradiction in her words confused them. How could someone be both cruel and compassionate? Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. Marie took a steadying breath. "What I mean is¡ªshe is FAIR." She raised her hand, gesturing to herself. "Look at me! I was once a slave, just like all of you. Under the syndicate, I had no future. I had no hope. But now?" She straightened her back, holding her chin high. "Now, I stand before you as the disciple of a Duchess." Her words struck like a hammer against the walls of doubt surrounding the crowd. "I am living proof that you will not be exploited like you were under the syndicate. You will not be left to rot or sold off like cattle!" Marie took a step forward, her voice steady and resolute. ¡°You have a future here. A choice.¡± She let her gaze sweep across the gathered crowd, taking in the mix of skepticism, hope, and fear on their faces. She knew her words alone wouldn¡¯t be enough to earn their trust¡ªbut actions, over time, would. Taking a deep breath, she continued, ¡°In the coming days, we will be acquiring enough lotus flowers to break all of your servitude spells.¡± A wave of relief rippled through the former slaves. For the first time since their capture, they dared to hope. Whispers of astonishment spread among them. Could it really be true? Would they finally be free? Marie saw the change in their expressions and pressed on. ¡°Those of you who have nowhere else to go may choose to stay here in Jola and begin anew. Those who wish to return home will be free to do so.¡± Excited murmurs rose among the crowd, but Marie raised a hand, signaling for silence. ¡°However¡ª¡± The crowd instantly hushed, bracing themselves for the catch. Marie hesitated for a brief moment, but she knew she had to be transparent. This was not going to be easy, and they needed to understand why. ¡°We won¡¯t be breaking everyone¡¯s servitude spells immediately.¡± A tense silence settled over the crowd. Marie swallowed hard, feeling the weight of their expectant stares. ¡°As you may already know, lotus flowers are incredibly expensive. Purchasing enough to free all of you at once would place an enormous burden on the dukedom.¡± The relieved expressions from earlier faltered, replaced by looks of concern and disappointment. Some lowered their heads, as if hope had been dangled before them, only to be cruelly snatched away. Marie clenched her fists. She had to reassure them before their fears took hold again. ¡°But don¡¯t worry!¡± she said quickly, her voice rising with conviction. ¡°Those of you who are able to work will only need to do so long enough to earn your travel expenses before we break your servitude spell.¡± A murmur of understanding spread through the crowd. That was far more reasonable than the alternative. Then, a strong voice cut through the murmuring. ¡°What about those who can¡¯t work? The children? The elderly?¡± Marie turned her gaze towards the speaker¡ªBradon. She recognized him immediately. He was the same man she and her father had bought firewood from back when they lived in the village. A small smile flickered across her lips despite the tense situation. It was comforting to see a familiar face. ¡°That¡¯s a very good question,¡± Marie said, acknowledging his concern. ¡°The children will be provided education by the Herptian Church. Once they learn how to read and write, they can decide for themselves whether they wish to stay or leave.¡± She paused before adding, ¡°If a child has family elsewhere in the empire, we will arrange safe passage for them. They will be escorted by our men to their guardians after their servitude spell is lifted.¡± A sigh of relief spread through the crowd. That was more than fair. ¡°As for the elderly,¡± Marie continued, ¡°they will also be taken in by the church and cared for. They will not be abandoned.¡± Bradon gave a slow nod, seemingly satisfied with the response. Around him, others whispered among themselves, considering Marie¡¯s words. She knew they understood how expensive lotus flowers were. Engraving them for spell-breaking cost at least two gold coins per person¡ªsometimes even more depending on the type of spell used. A simple peasant couldn¡¯t even dream of earning that much, not when the average monthly wage was between five to ten silver. But Marie had given them a way out. Instead of buying their freedom, they only needed to earn enough for travel expenses¡ªno more than 30 to 50 copper coins for a ship ticket. That was something they could achieve in just a month or two. Marie let that sink in before she delivered her final words. ¡°Most of you have lost your homes¡­ just like I did. For many of you, there is nothing left but a burned-down village and bitter memories.¡± Her voice softened, but there was an unshakable strength in her words. ¡°But if you choose to stay here in Jola, you will have a roof over your head. You will have food to fill your bellies. And, most importantly, you will have safety.¡± She straightened her back, her voice clear and unwavering. ¡°You will live under the protection of the Ruthless Princess¡ªso that no tragedy like this ever happens to you again.¡± A hushed silence followed. The weight of her words hung heavy in the air. Then, Marie gave a deep bow. ¡°Thank you for listening.¡± She lifted her head and delivered one final statement. ¡°While you stay in Jola, we will not activate your servitude spells to force you into labor. However¡ª¡± she let her gaze sweep over them, ¡°that does not mean we will tolerate criminal behavior. If any of you break the law, force will be used.¡± With that, she stepped back. The murmuring intensified as the slaves turned to one another, debating, questioning, and contemplating their options. The tension in the air had not disappeared, but hope had taken root. Marie took one last look at them before following the other representatives of the Princess as they left, allowing the people time to decide their own futures. 60. An Abomination Eight Floor Dungeon, Morgen Dukedom, Kingdom of Estra, Vassal Kingdom to Ancrona Empire, Far South from mainland Ancorna bordering Conley Empire. The flickering glow of enchanted torches barely illuminated the damp stone walls as the party ventured deeper into the dungeon. The once solid, rocky surface had begun to change, shifting in texture as if it were alive. A deep, rhythmic thudding echoed through the passageways¡ªlike the slow, steady beat of a colossal heart. A pair of red-furred wolves, their eyes gleaming with unnatural malice, lunged from the darkness. Before they could close the distance, two mages stepped forward, each holding a delicate sunflower encased in a small glass tube filled with a glowing golden liquid. With a flick of their wrists, the flowers blazed with radiant light, instantly igniting the wolves in an inferno of golden flames. Their agonized screeches filled the cavern before they collapsed into smoldering heaps of ash. Before the glow of the flames had fully faded, three goblins darted out from the shadows behind them, their jagged weapons raised. A flash of silver cut through the dimly lit corridor as Eugene, his sword gleaming with enchanted light, struck down two in a single, fluid motion. The third, clad in heavy furs, let out a guttural snarl before lunging at William. Without hesitation, William sidesteppedand drove his sword through the goblin¡¯s chest, twisting the blade before yanking it free. The goblin let out a gurgling death cry before collapsing onto the cold stone. William exhaled sharply, flicking the dark blood from his blade. "We¡¯ve cleared the first floor and are on the second. Now, tell me¡ªwhat is this important thing you wanted me to see?" he asked, turning to Eugene with an impatient frown. Eugene sheathed his sword and nodded toward the tunnel ahead. ¡°Just a little further, Your Highness. You¡¯ll understand when we get there.¡± William groaned but followed, the knights and mages falling into step behind them. With each step forward, the atmosphere of the dungeon shifted. The air, once thick with the smell of damp stone and monster blood, became unnaturally cold. The once solid dungeon walls began to undulate, as if something beneath them was stirring. A low, haunting sound filled the space¡ªthe rhythmic thump-thump of something massive beating in the distance. As they continued forward, the tunnel¡¯s appearance became more grotesque. The vines that had once clung to the walls, appearing almost like natural overgrowth, had transformed into pulsating red tendrils, throbbing in time with the eerie heartbeat. William¡¯s breath fogged in front of him. The temperature had dropped drastically, the chill seeping into his bones. He glanced at Eugene. ¡°This is far enough. We¡¯ve already cleared the magical beasts pouring out of this dungeon. If we establish an Adventurers¡¯ Guild here, they can keep it in check. There¡¯s no need to go any deeper.¡± Eugene didn¡¯t stop walking. ¡°We must go further, Your Highness. This is important¡ªfor your future.¡± William gritted his teeth. ¡°Damn it, Eugene¡ª¡± but he cut himself off, realizing that the knight wouldn¡¯t back down. The further they walked, the worse the dungeon became. The floor was no longer solid rock but something softer, slicker, like the inside of a living creature. The walls, once rough and uneven, had taken on the appearance of pulsating flesh, shifting as though breathing. The dripping sound of moisture echoed through the passage, the scent of iron and decay thick in the air. The knights tightened their grips on their weapons, while the mages whispered protective incantations under their breath. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. The beating sound intensified¡ªthump-thump, thump-thump¡ªuntil it resonated through their very bones. Then, they reached it. A vast chamber stretched before them, its walls covered in a tangled mass of pulsating red veins that all converged toward the center. There, embedded into the very structure of the dungeon, was a monstrous, heart-shaped growth¡ªa grotesque fusion of flesh and plant, its surface slick and glistening with crimson fluid. It throbbed, beating like a heart, and with each pulse, a low, wet squelching sound echoed through the chamber. At the center of the grotesque flower, a single massive eye snapped open, its golden iris narrowing into a slit as it fixated on them. A chilling silence fell over the group. Eugene exhaled, a satisfied nod forming on his lips. ¡°There it is.¡± William took a slow step forward, his heart pounding in his chest. The knights and mages stood frozen, their eyes darting around the chamber, trying to process the monstrous sight before them. "What in the name of the Goddess¡­ is this?" he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. Beside him, Eugene exhaled slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "An Abomination, Your Highness." The chamber seemed to shudder at the words, as if the walls themselves could understand the gravity of what had just been spoken. William¡¯s breath caught in his throat. "An Abomination?!" he repeated, his voice tinged with disbelief. "I thought those were nothing more than myths, old stories meant to scare children!" The mages, however, were already murmuring amongst themselves in hushed urgency, their eyes wide with realization. One of them, an older scholar draped in deep blue robes, took a hesitant step forward, his voice trembling with awe. "Yes¡­ yes! An Abomination! That explains it!" he said, his eyes gleaming with both excitement and terror. "I couldn¡¯t place it at first, but this¡ªthis is exactly like the descriptions found in ancient records. But I never thought I would live to see one with my own eyes!" William turned sharply toward Eugene, his expression dark and demanding. "Is this why you insisted on bringing me here?" Eugene met his gaze without hesitation, nodding once. "This is just the first of many to come. And you already know what that means, Your Highness." William''s throat felt dry. He swallowed hard before responding. "The return of the Absolute Being¡­" Eugene¡¯s expression hardened, his piercing gaze drilling into William¡¯s own. "Which is why you must succeed the throne, Your Highness. The world is changing. We are at the dawn of the end times. And I can only pray that when the storm arrives, you will be strong enough to stand against what is coming." For a moment, there was silence. The only sound was the steady, haunting thrum of the Abomination¡¯s heartbeat, echoing through the chamber like a distant war drum. Then, something in William shifted. His fists clenched, his spine straightened, and in his eyes, a newfound fire burned. Before this moment, the throne had only ever been a burden¡ªa responsibility he had been fighting for not because he desired power, but because he wished to protect those he cared for. His friends, his knights, his people. That was the reason he sought the crown. But now? Now, the stakes were far greater. The survival of the entire world could rest on his shoulders. His grip on his sword relaxed slightly as he inhaled deeply, steadying himself. Then, with fierce determination, he gave his answer. "I understand." His voice was no longer uncertain. It was the voice of a man who had just seen the abyss and refused to back down. Eugene watched him carefully, nodding in approval. Good. This is the resolve he will need. William turned back to his men. "Extract its blood. I will speak to Duke Morgen and negotiate full control of this dungeon. Until then, this discovery must remain a secret." The knights and mages bowed their heads in agreement, immediately moving to follow his orders. As the group set to work, Eugene allowed himself a small, satisfied smirk. This was it. The moment he had been waiting for. In his past life, everything had fallen apart. William had been the last surviving member of the Imperial Family of Ancorna, forced to rule during the era of the Witch of the West¡¯s attack. Desperate for a way to fight back, he and the Saintess had spent years capturing Abominations, experimenting on them, and using their essence to push magic beyond its natural limits. They had almost succeeded, uncovering the theoretical blueprint of a weapon that could have slain the Witch and prevented the resurrection of the Absolute Being. But by the time they had fully grasped the power of the Abominations¡ªit had already been too late. The Witch¡¯s army had descended upon the world, and the Absolute Being had awakened. The war had ended in annihilation. Now, Eugene had been given a second chance. He was no longer the helpless observer of a doomed future. This time, he would change fate. This time, he would prepare William early, make sure he succeeds the throne and builds the ultimate weapon to destroy the witch. He exhaled, his breath visible in the unnatural cold of the chamber, and muttered to himself as he turned to follow the others. "This time¡­ we will win." Eugene thought to himself. 61. Changes to Jola The arid desert air still carried its characteristic dryness, and the golden sands stretched endlessly, shimmering beneath the relentless sun. Yet, despite the unforgiving environment, it has changed far more than it already had. Patches of vibrant green now dotted the landscape at regular intervals, creating a surreal contrast against the dunes. Clusters of cultivated land thrived, breaking the monotony of sand with rich, fertile soil imported from seabeds. Rows of crops¡ªpotatoes, onions, carrots, and other hardy vegetables¡ªflourished under careful cultivation. Workers, clad in light, breathable fabrics, moved diligently across the fields, some harvesting fully grown plants while others plowed fresh furrows in preparation for the next cycle of growth. The cityscape itself had transformed drastically. Rising from the sands were grand structures of brick and cement, blending Romanesque aesthetics with innovative architectural adaptations to withstand the desert¡¯s harsh conditions. Large domes, designed to deflect heat and regulate indoor temperatures, crowned many buildings. Intricately carved pillars and arched doorways adorned the facades, lending the city an air of both antiquity and resilience. Apartment complexes of the same Romanesque style dominated the skyline, their designs echoing both the grandeur of old Herptian religious cities from the western continent and the practical ingenuity of modern engineering. Unlike the slow, painstaking construction of cities in the mainland, Jola¡¯s embrace of the power of steam-assisted machinery, allowing entire buildings to rise in a matter of weeks instead of years. Scaffolding surrounded incomplete structures, where laborers toiled to complete an intricate water distribution system. Elevated tanks¡ªdesigned in the same dome-capped style as the city¡¯s other structures¡ªwere being connected through a network of aqueducts and underground pipes. These innovations ensured a stable water supply, a lifeline in a region where every drop was precious. From her comfortable carriage, rolling smoothly over paved cement roads, Ravenna gazed out at the breathtaking transformation. "Much progress has been made in just a month, huh¡­" she murmured to herself, leaning against the plush seat. It had been a full month since she last set foot in Jola City, having spent her time away in Ronin Town Negotiating and other important tasks. The place she had departed had been a city in its infancy, struggling against the odds, but the one before her now was something else entirely¡ªa city that looks like it has been thriving for centuries . The winds of change had swept through Jola, and what had once been a mere outpost in the sands was now a rising stronghold. Marie walked briskly alongside members of the city¡¯s militia, her boots tapping against the newly paved cement roadsas she conducted her daily inspections. It was part of her routine to observe the city¡¯s progress firsthand, ensuring everything was running smoothly. As she scanned the horizon, her eyes suddenly lit up with excitement. If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. A carriage, elegant and sturdy, rolled past the city¡¯s gates, its design unmistakable. Ravenna had returned. Marie¡¯s heart leaped, and before she could stop herself, she broke into a sprint. Her brown curls bounced with each step as she raced towards the carriage, calling out in delight. ¡°Master! You¡¯re back!¡± she exclaimed, breathless yet brimming with enthusiasm. Ravenna, seated inside, noticed the familiar voice and waved a hand. ¡°My, my¡­ as energetic as ever, huh?¡± she mused with a small smile before signaling the driver to halt. The carriage came to a smooth stop, and the door swung open. ¡°Hop in,¡± Ravenna said, her expression warm. ¡°I¡¯d like to hear about everything that¡¯s happened while I was away.¡± Marie¡¯s face lit up. ¡°Yes! Master!¡± she chirped, wasting no time as she climbed inside. She settled into the seat across from Ravenna, fidgeting with excitement. ¡°Well,¡± she began, ¡°I won¡¯t be able to explain things in as much detail as Miss Alice or Miss Sarah, since I¡¯m still learning, but I¡¯ll do my best!¡± Ravenna crossed her legs and rested her chin on her hand, watching the girl with an amused expression. ¡°That¡¯s exactly why I want to hear your report, Marie. Let¡¯s see how much you¡¯ve learned about the city¡¯s affairs.¡± Marie nodded so aggressively that her short curls bounced, her eyes sparkling with determination. ¡°Alright! So, the priests worked hard to finalize the architectural designs, and once they did, the workers got right to it! Thanks to the steam engines, construction has been going faster than ever. The machines help crush stones into cement, making the process so much easier.¡± She glanced up at Ravenna, eager to see her reaction. The older woman gave her a small nod of approval, encouraging her to continue. Marie beamed. ¡°The steam engines also made it possible to use elevators to lift heavy materials, which means we need fewer workers for those tasks. Demolishing old structures is much easier too! So overall, construction is progressing way faster than expected.¡± Ravenna listened intently, impressed by Marie¡¯s enthusiasm and understanding. ¡°And what about the slaves?¡± she asked, her tone shifting slightly. Marie¡¯s excitement dimmed a little, but she quickly recovered. ¡°Many have been working alongside the other laborers. Some, after seeing how much the city has progressed, decided to stay and make a new life here.¡± She hesitated for a moment, then added in a softer voice, ¡°But¡­ a lot of them still chose to leave. Many wanted to return to their hometowns and rebuild their lives.¡± Her fingers fidgeted on her lap. ¡°I don¡¯t know the exact numbers, though. That¡¯s something Miss Alice and Miss Sarah are in charge of, so¡­¡± Ravenna waved a hand dismissively. ¡°That¡¯s fine. I brought the lotus flowers from Ronin Town, so we¡¯ll start breaking the servitude spells.¡± She met Marie¡¯s gaze firmly. ¡°Those who have earned enough for their travels will be set free first. Then, we¡¯ll release those who chose to stay and integrate into the city.¡± Marie nodded in understanding. ¡°Understood, Master.¡± She straightened up, eager to add more. ¡°Oh! Also, we managed to house at least half of the city¡¯s population thanks to the apartment complexes. More buildings are under construction, so we¡¯ll soon have enough space for the remaining people.¡± Ravenna smirked slightly, leaning back in her seat. ¡°Good. It seems things have been progressing well.¡± Marie tapped her chin, trying to recall if she had forgotten anything. Then, as if remembering something important, she gasped. ¡°Ah! There¡¯s one more thing¡ªMiss Alice¡¯s daughter, Mina, fell sick¡­¡± Ravenna¡¯s relaxed expression instantly vanished. Her body tensed, and her sharp eyes narrowed as she leaned forward. ¡°What?!¡± she demanded, her voice laced with urgency. 62. Weather of Jola Ravenna climbed the cement steps of Alice¡¯s home¡ªone of the newly completed apartment complexes that now stood tall against the desert skyline. The buildings had their arched windows and curved domes designed to combat the oppressive desert heat. Though still fresh with the scent of dried cement and polished wood, the structure already felt lived-in, a testament to how quickly Jola was evolving from a barren city into a thriving city. Yet, despite the progress, Ravenna found her thoughts drifting elsewhere. Her footsteps slowed as she exhaled sharply, a twinge of unease settling in her chest. Her emotions were uncharacteristically turbulent¡ªanxiety, worry, even fear¡ªall for Mina¡¯s well-being. But what unsettled her more than the concern itself was the realization that it might not even be her own. ¡°Since when did I start feeling Ravenna¡¯s emotions?¡± It had been some time since she had taken on the persona of the original Ravenna, carefully shaping herself into the woman everyone expected her to be. Yet, despite knowing that her own memories and identity remained intact, the emotions, instincts, and even habits of the former Ravenna seemed to bleed into her thoughts, intertwining with her own like creeping vines. She clenched her fists. ¡°I should stop thinking about it.¡± Pushing aside the unsettling notion, she reached the top of the stairs and stepped forward. Marie and Hughes followed closely behind as they entered the flat, the cool interior providing a brief respite from the desert¡¯s heat. Inside, the room was simple yet well-furnished, its wooden beams and sandstone walls giving it a sturdy, homely feel. The apartment, like many in the complex, was built with high ceilings and strategically placed windows to allow natural ventilation, a necessity in Jola¡¯s unforgiving climate. A woven rug covered the floor, and a small dining table sat in the corner, but Ravenna¡¯s gaze went immediately to the cradle near the window. Alice sat nearby in a sturdy wooden chair, her posture weary yet attentive as she watched over her daughter. At the sound of footsteps, she turned, her eyes widening in surprise. ¡°R-Ravenna?¡± Alice¡¯s voice wavered slightly. ¡°When did you return?¡± Before Ravenna could answer, Hughes moved past her, stepping toward the cradle where his tiny daughter lay. He gently cupped her small hand, his expression softening with a mix of concern and relief. Ravenna crossed her arms. ¡°Just now,¡± she said simply. ¡°I heard Mina was sick.¡± Alice sighed, rubbing her temples as if the weight of the past few days had finally caught up to her. ¡°Yes¡­ The healer from the church came by earlier. From what they told me, it¡¯s the heat. Apparently, young children in Jola tend to fall sick from it now and then. It¡¯s a common occurrence.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Hughes, still looking down at Mina¡¯s sleeping form, frowned. ¡°And what did they say about treating it?¡± Alice¡¯s fingers brushed against Mina¡¯s forehead as she adjusted the damp cloth resting there. ¡°They recommended keeping a wet cloth on her head and ensuring she stays cool. The healer also used some minor healing spells, but they said she should recover on her own in a few days.¡± Ravenna¡¯s sharp gaze drifted around the room before settling back on Alice and the sleeping child. ¡°I see¡­¡± she murmured, almost to herself. She turned toward the window, where the bright desert sun streamed in, casting long golden rays across the floor. Even with the architectural adaptations, the heat was relentless. ¡°So the weather really is becoming a problem¡­¡± she muttered. Jola had grown rapidly and while they had overcome many obstacles, they had yet to truly address the harsh realities of their desert environment. If even the local children were falling ill from the heat, how would newcomers fare? What about the workers, the elderly, or those with weaker constitutions? Her fingers lightly tapped against her arm as thoughts churned in her mind. This was another challenge to overcome. Sun Palace, Capital City, Ancorna Empire In a secluded corner of the Sun Palace, a hidden courtyard flourished, untouched by the outside world. Unlike the rest of the empire¡ªwhere strict laws forbade the cultivation of certain rare flora¡ªthis garden was an exception, a secret oasis of forbidden beauty. Enclosed within a dome of shimmering magical energy, the air was thick with the fragrance of exotic blossoms, their petals glistening with an unnatural radiance. Deep violet roses, golden lotuses, and silver-leafed vines climbed gracefully along the carved stone walls, thriving in a space where magic itself kept them in bloom year-round. At the heart of the courtyard, a fountain stood¡ªits marble surface carved in the image of Goddess Solious. Water cascaded gently from the statue¡¯s open palms, trickling into a crystal-clear pool below, where koi fish of shimmering gold and silver swam lazily. The serene atmosphere made it easy to forget that beyond these walls lay the vast and turbulent world of politics and power. A man sat at the edge of the fountain, his posture relaxed, yet there was an undeniable aura of authority about him. Though well into his late sixties, he retained a youthful vitality that defied his years. His raven-black hair, streaked with only the faintest hints of silver, reflected the soft glow of enchanted lanterns, giving him an almost ethereal presence. His eyes¡ªpiercing gold, like the sun itself¡ªheld the weight of decades of rule, countless victories, and unspoken burdens. This was Andrew Solarius, Emperor of the Ancorna Empire. As he absentmindedly trailed his fingers through the water, the quiet of the courtyard was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. A man of advanced age, dressed in luxurious silk robes of deep crimson and gold embroidery, entered with careful steps. His whitening hair and the slight weariness in his movements hinted at the burdens of decades spent in service to the empire, yet his sharp eyes still gleamed with intelligence. This was Frank Eldric, one of the Emperor¡¯s most trusted ministers, a man who had served the Solarius dynasty loyally for decades. The moment he stepped into the courtyard, he bowed deeply. "Your Imperial Majesty." Andrew looked up and smiled. "Ha, Frank. Come in." His voice was warm yet carried the weight of command. Frank stepped forward, his movements precise and respectful. ¡°I bring the latest reports on the status and activities of your children, Your Majesty.¡± Andrew¡¯s golden eyes flickered with a mix of amusement and intrigue as he leaned back against the fountain. "Ah, my troublesome brood. Let''s hear it, then." 63. Emperor of the Empire Frank Eldric stood with practiced ease, hands folded behind his back as he delivered his report. The cool breeze in the enchanted courtyard rustled the leaves, carrying the faint fragrance of forbidden flowers as Emperor Andrew Solarius listened in silence. Frank cleared his throat and began, ¡°First Prince Nolan continues to spend his days in the southern reaches of the continent, deepening his ties with the Hilda Kingdom through his marriage to Her Highness, Princess Frederica Hill. Recently, he achieved a rare honor¡ªhe was granted access to the Alchemy Research Institute¡¯s High Library, making him only the twenty-sixth foreigner in history to be permitted entry.¡± The Emperor¡¯s eyes gleamed with faint interest. ¡°That boy always had a talent for diplomacy. I take it he¡¯ll be returning to the empire soon?¡± ¡°Yes, Your Majesty. If all proceeds as planned, he and his wife should make their way back next month.¡± Frank replied Andrew nodded, then his expression darkened slightly. ¡°And what of that scandal? The affair?¡± Frank hesitated only briefly before answering, ¡°It was swiftly suppressed by King Julian Hill himself. His Majesty sought to protect his daughter''s dignity, and in doing so, he also preserved the imperial family''s reputation.¡± A small chuckle escaped the Emperor. ¡°King Julian is a wise man. Give him my thanks¡ªhe has spared us from unnecessary trouble.¡± Frank gave a respectful nod before continuing, ¡°Second Prince Landon remains stationed in the Council of Vassal States Region, as per Your Majesty¡¯s orders. He is gathering intelligence on anti-imperial factions.¡± The Emperor scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°That fool. He may be a grown man with a wife and children, yet he still fails to grasp my intentions. First, he hijacks my envoy, speaking out of turn in the council, fumbling his own position. Now, he plays at being a spy? Tch. A laughable attempt.¡± Frank, as always, remained neutral, simply acknowledging the Emperor¡¯s words before moving on. ¡°Third Prince William has completed his exploration of the newly spawned dungeon in the Morgen Dukedom. However, rather than moving on, he has begun negotiating for the dungeon¡¯s controlling rights. The exact details of his reasoning remain unclear.¡± Andrew¡¯s fingers paused over a silver-petaled flower as he hummed in thought. ¡°Is this the work of that knight, Eugene?¡± ¡°It seems so, Your Majesty,¡± Frank confirmed. ¡°Since Ser Eugene entered his service, Third Prince William¡¯s strategies have grown more elusive. There are odd instances where he appears to know exactly where to be and what to do, as if foreseeing events before they unfold.¡± The Emperor¡¯s brows furrowed. ¡°That is concerning. A tactician of that caliber could be a valuable asset¡ªor a dangerous liability. Keep a watchful eye on Eugene. If he is a plant sent by our enemies to manipulate the succession, I will not tolerate it.¡± ¡°Understood, Your Majesty.¡± Frank turned a page in his report and proceeded, ¡°Fourth Princess Serena has sent word of her return from the Western Continent. She is expected to arrive within the month. Her party has taken the long but safer route to avoid encounters with sea-dwelling magical beasts.¡± If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Andrew¡¯s lips curled into a smirk. ¡°I see. And tell me, is she bringing that fool back with her?¡± Frank kept his tone measured. ¡°Lord Gary may be of simple baronial status, Your Majesty, but he is a widely respected merchant and has secured his engagement to Fourth Princess Serena.¡± It was evident that the two men held vastly different opinions on the matter. Frank saw Gary as an asset¡ªan ambitious and resourceful merchant capable of bringing financial stability to the empire through trade. The Emperor, on the other hand, dismissed him as an insignificant commoner who had merely gotten lucky. Andrew waved his hand dismissively, as if brushing the matter aside. His attention, however, sharpened at the next report. Frank turned another page. ¡°Finally, Fifth Princess Ravenna was last seen visiting the Ronin Family. Reports indicate that she conducted large-scale purchases before returning to her dukedom.¡± The Emperor¡¯s eyes narrowed. ¡°Large-scale purchases? What exactly did she buy?¡± ¡°A significant quantity of common spell flowers along with lumber, grains, and an ongoing trade deal for a steady supply of paper.¡± Frank finished. Andrew¡¯s irritation flickered to the surface. ¡°Paper trade deals?¡± Frank remained composed as he confirmed, ¡°Yes, Your Majesty.¡± Andrew let out a slow, measured exhale, irritation flickering in his golden eyes. ¡°As spoiled as ever. I had hoped that after her exile, she would have finally learned some responsibility. But it seems she is determined to dig an early grave now that she has been removed from the succession race.¡± He set down his watering can and straightened, his gaze drifting toward the grand walls that enclosed the secluded courtyard. The air was thick with the fragrance of rare, forbidden flowers, a stark contrast to the weight of his thoughts. Ravenna¡¯s exile had not been a death sentence, not completely. He had ensured that she had a slim chance at survival, a way to carve out a future for herself if she was truly capable. A reasonable course of action would have been to take the initial 300 mana coins he had provided and sail westward to the western continent, leveraging her status as an apostle of Herptian to gain the support of the Herptian faith. With their backing, she could have recruited mercenaries, gathered resources, and returned with an army, from there, she could have declared an official territorial war to seize control of the weaker coastal towns near Jola Island. opening trade routes into the mainland empire. Even without direct financial support from the imperial palace, she could have secured her dominion, establishing the barren land of Jola as her stronghold. That would have been the logical choice. Instead, she was¡­ buying common spell flowers and paper? Andrew scoffed, shaking his head. ¡°With no substantial wealth in her hands, she still wastes what little she has on frivolous luxuries. I thought she was smarter than that.¡± Finishing his task, he set down the small pruning shears he had been using and turned back to Frank. The minister, ever patient, waited for the Emperor¡¯s next words before offering further insight. ¡°Our reports suggest that Fifth Princess Ravenna has struck some sort of trade deal with the Ronin family.¡± Frank adjusted his grip on the leather-bound report in his hands. ¡°We lack the exact details, but our best estimate is that she has secured a long-term loan.¡± Andrew¡¯s lips curled into a half-smirk, half-scowl. ¡°A loan? Hah. Even now, she relies on borrowed power.¡± He flicked his wrist dismissively. ¡°If she fails, she¡¯ll be crushed under the weight of her own debts. And if she succeeds¡­¡± He trailed off, unwilling to entertain the thought that she might still surprise him. Instead, he merely waved his hand, signaling his disinterest in further discussion. Frank bowed in quiet acknowledgment before turning to leave. As the minister disappeared into the palace halls, Andrew Solarius glanced back at the fountain in the center of the courtyard. The goddess¡¯s stone-carved face stared back at him, her expression one of serene indifference. 64. Original Ravenna鈥檚 Fate? "Sigh." Ravenna let out a long, weary exhale as she slumped deeper into the velvet chair in her study. A dim candle flickered beside her, casting restless shadows on the walls lined with bookshelves. The air was thick with the scent of aged parchment and ink, yet despite the peaceful atmosphere, her mind was anything but at ease. For what felt like the fortieth time, she was poring over Light¡¯s Conquest, desperately trying to piece together a timeline of past events¡ªwhat had changed, what remained the same, and what unforeseen ripples might still be forming. She muttered under her breath, "The last time a small change happened, it caused such a massive shift¡­ Marie is here instead of being in the Western Continent. I can¡¯t afford another unexpected deviation." She took up her notebook, flipping through pages filled with carefully written observations, theories, and speculations. There was one glaring truth she had noted over and over: by the novel¡¯s original timeline, she should have been dead before ever reaching Jola. "So that means the battle between Jola¡¯s forces and Ronin Town¡¯s knights¡ªdisguised as pirates¡ªnever happened in the novel." Ravenna frowned as she scrawled this new insight onto the page, her quill scratching against the parchment. That alone was a significant divergence. If she had been fated to die before arriving in Jola, then the entire sequence of events surrounding her exile had played out differently than what was written. She had carefully molded Jola¡¯s governing system to ensure that she maintained an iron grip on the island¡¯s affairs. Every decision was deliberate, each policy crafted to keep the story from deviating too drastically while still ensuring Jola¡¯s survival. But why? In Light¡¯s Conquest, Ravenna was never mentioned again after her exile in the first arc. The story simply moved on as if she had ceased to exist. This was bizarre for several reasons. If she had died in Ronin Town, as seemed likely, then her death would have undoubtedly reached the imperial palace. There would have been an imperial funeral¡ªperhaps a cursory mention in the novel, even if only to highlight the downfall of a disgraced princess. Yet, nothing. It was as though her very existence had been erased. Ravenna tapped her quill against her notebook, deep in thought. "Did the Ronin family seize control of Jola without the imperial palace noticing? Could they have used it as a secret site to dispose of their slaves when William began his hunt for slave traders?" If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. It was a chilling possibility, but something didn¡¯t add up. Hughes, John, and the rest of her entourage would have reported her death if that were the case. It wouldn¡¯t have been a quiet affair. No, something else had happened. She rubbed her temples, frustration building. "If I assume the poison didn''t kill Ravenna in the original timeline¡­" she murmured. That would mean she still made it to Jola. If that were true, then the most logical course of action would have been to sail to the Western Continent, leveraging her status as an apostle of Herptian to rally support. The Herptian Church could have provided her with resources, mercenaries, and trade connections. From there, she could have returned with the backing to establish Jola as a proper trade hub¡ªa logical, calculated move that fit the Ravenna she knew to be. Yet, in the novel¡¯s second half, which largely took place in the Western Continent, there was still no mention of her. That meant¡­ she never made it there. But why? "Ugh, this is eating away at my brain." Ravenna groaned, dropping her quill with an irritated flick of her wrist. She leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling as if it held the answers she was searching for. If the novel never mentioned what happened to her, then how could she track what small changes she had already caused? How could she prevent even larger deviations from spiraling out of control? Ravenna exhaled sharply, setting aside her notes. "At least the structure of my administration is working in my favor," she thought, drumming her fingers against her desk. In Light¡¯s Conquest, the entire Eastern Continent was plunged into devastating wars, resulting in catastrophic death tolls and endless turmoil. Yet, Jola was never once mentioned again after her exile. That meant, in the original timeline, the island had been isolated from the main events, left untouched by the infamous Witch of the West¡¯s army due to its remote location. This was both an advantage and a curse. Ravenna needed Jola to prosper, but not so much that it would draw the empire¡¯s attention or cause economic ripples that could alter the political landscape. The moment Jola became too significant, the imperial palace would inevitably intervene, and that was something she couldn''t allow. The solution? Absolute control over every business, trade, and technological development on the island. Her administrative structure ensured that all economic activities flowed through her hands. She had positioned herself as the central authority in Jola¡¯s economy, making sure that no independent power could rise and make reckless decisions that might alter the novel¡¯s course. This control gave her two critical advantages: She had seen this happen once before the previous caretaker of Jola had been stripped of his position overnight. She wouldn¡¯t suffer the same fate. With a deep breath, Ravenna leaned back in her chair, massaging her temples. "Thinking about the novel too much is giving me a headache." Dwelling on things she had no answers to would only waste time. She had work to do. Pulling a fresh stack of documents from the side of her desk, she unfolded the top page and scanned its contents. ¡°New Renovations for the Education of the Youth of Jola City.¡± 65. New Renovations for the Education of the Youth of Jola City Pulling a fresh stack of documents from the side of her desk, she unfolded the top page and scanned its contents. ¡°New Renovations for the Education of the Youth of Jola City.¡± She let out a small hum of approval. ¡°Oh¡­ Alice finally finished drafting it, huh?¡± she murmured, flipping through the neatly written proposal. Without wasting time, she began reading and making adjustments where necessary, her quill scratching softly against the parchment. This document outlined the proposed new regulations and structures for Jola¡¯s education system. While Ravenna had direct authority over what would be taught in Jola¡¯s schools, she still had to adhere to the imperial system¡¯s guidelines. Moreover, as part of her agreement with the Herptian Church, she had promised to support the spread of their faith in Jola. For the most part, Ravenna had chosen to delegate the control of education to the church. Unlike the mainland empire, where literacy was a privilege of the nobility, the Herptian Church had long ensured that Jola¡¯s native population was literate. Given this advantage, it wasn¡¯t necessarily a bad idea to allow them to continue operating the schools¡ªespecially since it provided a valuable loophole in imperial law. The empire¡¯s strict laws prohibited commoners from learning certain disciplines¡ªadministration, legal studies, advanced alchemy, higher-level magic, and geopolitics¡ªall of which were reserved for those of noble origin. Previously, these laws explicitly stated "of noble birth," but during the reign of Ravenna¡¯s great-grandfather, the language had been subtly revised with the support of the Herptian Church. Now, the law stated that only those of ¡®noble origin¡¯ were eligible for higher education. This distinction was poorly defined, which allowed for exploitable loopholes. Nobility wasn¡¯t solely limited to birthright¡ªit could also be granted through honorary titles or positions within the empire¡¯s recognized religious institutions, including the Twelve Faiths. Ravenna saw an opportunity. By officially placing the Herptian Church in charge of Jola¡¯s education system, she could reclassify students who completed their basic education as honorary members of the faith. Once recognized as disciples of the Goddess Herptian, they would, by technicality, qualify as nobility under imperial law¡ªmaking them eligible for higher education in fields normally reserved for the elite. ¡°This is bound to land me in hot water with the imperial court sooner or later,¡± Ravenna muttered, tapping her quill against the parchment. ¡°But it¡¯s a risk worth taking.¡± Jola needed skilled administrators, legal experts, chemists, and magic scholars if it was going to survive in the long run. Without these reforms, the island would forever remain a dependent backwater, its people at the mercy of the empire¡¯s whims. Ravenna expanded the curriculum beyond traditional subjects. Advanced chemistry, mathematics, and physics were now being introduced, along with other modern educational disciplines typically found in high school and middle school. The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement. Thanks to the reputation system and the internet, she could easily acquire textbooks and materials that covered these fields. However, she knew better than to overload the current population with highly sophisticated concepts right away. ¡°Subjects like advanced medical studies, programming, and scientific research¡­ They¡¯re beyond what the people of Jola can grasp at their current level.¡± Ravenna muttered to herself as she flipped through her notes. The transition needed to be gradual. For now, these advanced subjects would be taught to adults and the priests of the Herptian Church first. Once they had a solid foundation, they could become teachers themselves and pass the knowledge on to the next generation. It would take time¡ªyears, perhaps even decades¡ªbefore Jola could produce its own doctors, engineers, and economists. But even so, the island¡¯s population would soon surpass the mainland empire in educational knowledge. Ravenna smirked to herself. "A single well-educated generation can change the fate of an entire nation. It help the island a lot" With the foundation of Jola¡¯s education system laid out, Ravenna turned her attention to structural reforms. The way the Herptian Church currently handled schooling was chaotic at best, with class schedules scattered throughout the week and little consistency in teaching methods. That needed to change. She established a unified curriculum system, ensuring that students would attend school five days a week, with Saturdays and Sundays designated as holidays. This structure would not only bring stability but also allow families to plan around a consistent schedule. However, academics weren¡¯t the only concern. With the influx of former slaves, tensions were bound to rise between them and Jola¡¯s native citizens. Social division could lead to discrimination, resentment, and even violence¡ªproblems that needed to be addressed before they could take root. To combat this, Ravenna implemented strict anti-bullying and anti-discrimination policies, making it clear that any form of harassment or prejudice would not be tolerated within the education system. She also standardized school uniforms and study materials, ensuring that every student¡ªregardless of background¡ªwould receive the same attire and learning tools issued by the church and schools. On Earth, bullying often stemmed from economic inequality, social status, and appearance. By removing visible markers of wealth or poverty, she could at least minimize the divide that might form between Jola¡¯s freed slaves and native-born citizens. But that wasn¡¯t enough. Discipline needed to be enforced. She drafted firm school policies against bullying and harassment, pouring more personal attention into these guidelines than she had with anything else so far. Perhaps she was being too passionate about it, but she couldn¡¯t help herself. After all, in her past life as Joy Kim, she had experienced bullying firsthand. The scars of those days still lingered, and if she had the power to prevent others from going through the same suffering¡ªshe would. She was about to move on to the next set of documents when a sharp knock echoed through the room. ¡°Come in.¡± The door swung open, revealing Marie, slightly out of breath as if she had hurried over. ¡°Master! High Priest James has asked me to bring you to the church! He says all the preparations for the ceremony are complete!¡± Ravenna placed her quill down and stood up from her chair, dusting off the hem of her coat. ¡°I see.¡± Her gaze sharpened. The preparation for the public execution ritual ceremony was ready. This event would serve a crucial purpose, a defining moment that would permanently shift the people¡¯s stance on crime in Jola. Without another word, she turned to Marie and nodded. ¡°Well then, let¡¯s get going.¡± the streets of Jola are going to witness a change one that would ensure order and loyalty for years to come. 66. Ceremony Ravenna sat in the meeting room of the Herptian Church, facing High Priest James across a polished wooden table. The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the walls, casting shadows that danced across the grand hall¡¯s intricate carvings. She set down her teacup, her expression unreadable as she tapped a finger against the rim. ¡°So the preparations are complete, yet we can¡¯t proceed with the ceremony today?¡± she asked, her gaze steady. James sighed, rubbing his temples before responding. ¡°Unfortunately, yes. We received word from Chief Blacksmith Nilie¡ªthere¡¯s been an issue with the steam-powered printing press. It¡¯s not operational yet.¡± Ravenna¡¯s eyes narrowed slightly as she processed the news. The printing press was a vital component of their larger strategy, and without it, the ceremony¡¯s impact would be significantly weakened. ¡°I see,¡± she murmured, lifting her teacup again for a slow sip. ¡°Then we¡¯ll have to postpone. I¡¯ll stop by the blacksmith district on my way back to the castle and check on the progress myself.¡± Beside her, Marie, who had been quietly listening, tilted her head in confusion. ¡°Master, why does the printing press matter so much? The ceremony was meant to discourage crime¡ªshouldn¡¯t we proceed regardless?¡± Her curiosity was genuine, but Ravenna could see the deeper question in her eyes. Setting her cup down, Ravenna leaned back in her chair. ¡°Because the printing press is crucial to a much bigger plan.¡± Marie blinked, still puzzled. James, seeing her confusion, stepped in. ¡°Her Highness is referring to something called a newspaper,¡± he explained. ¡°It¡¯s a form of public information that will be printed and distributed daily to households across the dukedom.¡± Marie frowned slightly.¡°So it¡¯s like a public notice board? The villages usually send officials door to door to announce tax changes or laws. But since everyone in Jola is literate, we¡¯d just be handing them a sheet with all the information, right? Tax updates, news of crimes, Master¡¯s new policies¡­ and maybe even gossip?¡± Ravenna chuckled.¡°That¡¯s exactly right.¡± Marie understood the concept now, but she still wasn¡¯t seeing the connection.¡°But what does this have to do with the public execution?¡± James clasped his hands together, his gaze serious.¡°Because the execution isn¡¯t just about punishing criminals¡ªit¡¯s about making a statement.¡± Marie leaned forward, listening intently. ¡°Two child predators are scheduled for execution,¡± James continued. ¡°We plan to frame their punishment as divine justice¡ªan unshakable message that lawlessness will no longer be tolerated.¡± Ravenna picked up where he left off.¡°The printing press would have launched the newspaper on the same day as the execution.¡± She tapped the table, emphasizing her next point. ¡°Over the following weeks, we¡¯d start subtly weaving in news about the fate of criminals¡ªstories of swift, merciless justice, each case reinforcing the idea that crime leads to unavoidable punishment.¡± Marie¡¯s eyes widened as realization dawned on her.¡°Ah¡­ so by witnessing a public execution first, people will already associate your rule with strict justice. Then, when they read about criminals being arrested and punished in the newspaper, they¡¯ll assume every case is treated just as ruthlessly.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± James nodded. ¡°When there was no administration, crime became a way of life. No one reported thefts, murders, or assaults because there was no one to enforce laws. People accepted lawlessness as the norm.¡± Ravenna¡¯s tone turned sharp. ¡°That changes now.¡± James continued, ¡°If the people believe every crime¡ªno matter how small¡ªis swiftly and severely punished, they will start policing themselves. They will fear the militia¡¯s authority. They will hesitate before committing offenses. And over time, the crime rate will naturally decline.¡± Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Marie nodded slowly, processing the strategy. ¡°So¡­ by creating fear first, we force them to adapt. Eventually, Jola will become safer, not because of constant executions, but because no one will dare commit crimes in the first place.¡± Ravenna smirked. ¡°Now you understand.¡± Marie let out a breath, now seeing the full picture. James cleared his throat, shifting the conversation. "On a brighter note, just before you arrived, I received news that the construction of the elevated water tanks has been completed." Ravenna''s eyes lit up with interest."Is that so? When will they be operational?" James nodded, his expression pleased."If all goes well, they should be fully functional within a week. The Magnolia flowers you brought back from Ronin Town during your last trip have played a crucial role in making the system far more efficient." Marie, who had been following the conversation closely, furrowed her brows."Magnolia flowers? How did those help with the water tanks?" James chuckled at the young girl¡¯s curiosity. "The design Her Highness came up with is quite ingenious," he began, shifting into an explanation. "The elevated tanks were built to pump seawater into large lower basins. From there, the sun''s heat causes the water to evaporate, leaving the salt and impurities behind. The purified steam then rises into upper tanks, where it condenses back into liquid form¡ªessentially functioning as a large-scale solar still." Marie nodded slowly, trying to visualize the process. James continued, gesturing with his hands as he spoke."The key to making this work was the city¡¯s layout. During the planning stage, we integrated a pipe network into every apartment complex. Once the purified water collects in the upper tanks, it flows down naturally through these pipes, providing every household with clean drinking water via simple taps." Marie¡¯s eyes widened."So it''s like the hand pumps and rotational wells used in the mainland?" James shook his head slightly."Not quite, but somewhat similar in concept. Instead of relying on manual labor to draw water, this system uses gravity. Since the tanks are elevated, the water flows downward on its own after purification, requiring no additional effort from the people." Marie hummed in thought, but she was still stuck on one thing."But how do the Magnolia flowers fit into all this? I only know them for being used for weak spells¡ªthey can condense air and release it in one direction, but that¡¯s hardly useful in combat." Ravenna, who had been quietly listening, smirked."That weak spell happens to be extremely useful in water purification," she said. James picked up from there, his tone full of excitement."You see, once the sun heats the lower tanks, the water turns into steam, leaving behind salt and other impurities. Normally, we''d have to rely on layers of cloth to trap the steam and let it condense naturally¡ªbut that process is terribly slow and inefficient." Marie¡¯s eyes suddenly widened in realization."Wait¡­ a Magnolia flower''s condensation spell! It can rapidly condense steam back into water!" James chuckled."Exactly! By strategically placing enchanted Magnolia flowers around the upper tanks, we can instantly convert the rising steam into purified water. This means we don¡¯t have to wait for natural condensation, making the whole process much faster and more efficient." Marie sat back, impressed."So the upper tanks fill with drinkable water almost immediately after evaporation¡­ That¡¯s brilliant!" She paused for a moment, her mind racing. Then, as if struck by sudden inspiration, she blurted out, "Wait a minute! If steam can be condensed this easily, doesn¡¯t that mean we can apply the same principle to steam engines? The leftover steam from the engine could also be converted into drinkable water!" James let out a hearty laugh, while Ravenna smirked at Marie¡¯s enthusiasm. "That¡¯s exactly what we¡¯re doing, Lady Marie," James said, his voice full of approval. "We¡¯re not just using sunstill tanks¡ªwe¡¯re also integrating this technique into steam-powered machines. That way, we maximize water efficiency while also advancing our industry." Marie beamed, her admiration for Ravenna growing even more. Before she could voice her thoughts, a sharp knock echoed through the room, breaking the moment. The heavy wooden door swung open, revealing John, one of Ravenna¡¯s trusted aides. His expression was serious, indicating the importance of his visit. "Your Highness," he said, bowing respectfully, "a message has arrived from the imperial capital via the Merchant Association." Ravenna raised a brow as John stepped forward, handing her a sealed letter. She immediately recognized the golden wax imprint¡ªit bore the emblem of the imperial family. She examined the letter closely before breaking the seal. If this were an official decree or a direct order from the emperor, it wouldn¡¯t have come through the Merchant Association. Messages of true urgency would arrive directly through the imperial palace. This, however, was different. Invitations, announcements, and formal notices were usually sent this way. As her eyes scanned the neatly penned words, a sigh escaped her lips, followed by a soft chuckle. She folded the letter and placed it on the table before looking up at John. "Notify Alice to prepare my finest dresses. And while you¡¯re at it, have a suitable wardrobe prepared for Marie as well. We will be traveling soon." John bowed again, acknowledging the command before swiftly exiting the room to carry out his orders. Marie, still caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, blinked in confusion. "M-Master, what¡¯s going on? Why are we traveling all of a sudden?" Ravenna smirked and reached out, gently patting Marie¡¯s head as if she were an inquisitive child. "We¡¯ve been invited to a grand ceremony, my dear disciple." Marie¡¯s eyes widened. "A ceremony? What kind of ceremony?" Ravenna chuckled before casually leaning back in her chair. "It¡¯s an imperial wedding, Marie. My elder sister is returning from the western continent and is getting married." 67. Staying Behind Duke Kevin Morgen¡¯s study, Morgen Dukedom, Kingdom of Estra, Vassal Kingdom to Ancrona Empire, Far South from mainland Ancorna bordering Conley Empire. The steady crackling of the fireplace provided the only warmth in Duke Kevin Morgen¡¯s grand study as a cold breeze howled outside. Stacks of documents cluttered the large desk, and a rich scent of parchment and ink filled the air. Seated across from each other, Duke Kevin and Prince William engaged in a tense discussion, the weight of political maneuvering pressing heavily between them. Duke Kevin ran a hand through his graying hair, his sharp gaze locked onto the young prince before him. "I don¡¯t understand why you¡¯re so hellbent on this, Your Highness." His voice carried the weight of years spent navigating the treacherous currents of noble politics. "I can¡¯t simply hand over the rights to the dungeon. It has the potential to become a significant economic asset to my dukedom." William leaned forward, his expression calm but determined. "I understand your concerns, Uncle. That¡¯s precisely why I¡¯m only asking for administrative rights, not full ownership. You will still have complete control over the local Adventurers'' Guild, and the profits will be split generously¡ªeighty percent for you, only twenty for me." Duke Kevin narrowed his eyes. "That¡¯s exactly what I don¡¯t understand. No one willingly takes such a massive loss unless they know something the other party doesn¡¯t." His fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest of his chair. "What are you after, William?" The prince exhaled slowly, offering a disarming smile. "I won¡¯t deny that I stand to gain from this arrangement. But let¡¯s be honest¡ªwhether I reveal the dungeon¡¯s secret or not, it won¡¯t change the fact that you¡¯ll be making a profit either way. I¡¯m offering you a deal where you gain everything and lose nothing. Isn¡¯t that a favorable outcome?" Duke Kevin leaned back, deep in thought. The offer was tempting, but his instincts warned him there was more to this than William was letting on. The prince was far too shrewd to act without an ulterior motive. After a long pause, the duke finally spoke. "Fine. I¡¯ll grant you administrative rights to the dungeon¡­ but on one condition." William arched a brow. "And that is?" The cold wind rattled the windows as Duke Kevin folded his hands together, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. "Get me an invitation to Her Highness Serena¡¯s wedding." William blinked, processing the unexpected request. Duke Kevin chuckled, his tone laced with amusement. "Don¡¯t you think I should be present at my own niece¡¯s wedding? I have reliable intel that Princess Serena is returning to the empire from the Western Continent, and her wedding to Lord Gary will be held soon after her arrival." His smirk widened. "It would be a shame for a duke of the empire to be left out of such an important event, don¡¯t you think?" William studied the duke¡¯s expression, his gaze searching for any hidden motive. After a brief silence, he sighed and nodded. "Alright. I¡¯ll arrange an invitation for you and your family." Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation. Duke Kevin¡¯s smirk deepened into a satisfied grin. He extended his hand. "Then we have a deal." William shook his uncle¡¯s hand, sealing the agreement. But even as the deal was struck, he couldn''t shake the nagging suspicion that Duke Kevin had his own reasons for wanting to attend the wedding. Lord¡¯s Bedroom, Jola City, Jola Island, Ancorna Empire The warm glow of candlelight flickered against the polished wooden walls of Ravenna¡¯s bedroom. The scent of sea salt drifted in through the open balcony, carried by the island¡¯s evening breeze. Inside, the air was thick with tension as Alice rummaged through Ravenna¡¯s wardrobe, shaking her head in dismay. "We can¡¯t just have you wearing one of these," Alice huffed, pulling out one dress after another. "You¡¯re an Imperial Princess! We need to place an order with a proper seamstress¡ªone who can craft something truly luxurious. You have to make an impression." Ravenna sat on the edge of her bed, rubbing her temples as she listened to Alice fuss over fabric choices. But there was something far more pressing on her mind. "Alice," she said, her voice steady but thoughtful, "this invitation¡ªit wasn¡¯t from Serena. It came from Father himself." Alice froze mid-motion, her hands gripping a silken gown. Her expression darkened. "Of course it did," she muttered, tossing the dress onto a growing pile. "The emperor is playing at something again. There¡¯s definitely an ulterior motive behind this. We can¡¯t go unprepared!" She resumed sorting the garments, muttering under her breath. "Her Highness Serena and your other siblings... they¡¯re surely involved in this too. You know how they are. If they¡¯re planning something¡ª" "That¡¯s precisely why you¡¯re staying back." Ravenna cut her off Alice snapped her head toward Ravenna, eyes widening in disbelief. "What?!" Ravenna met her gaze, unwavering. "You¡¯re not coming to the capital, Alice." Alice¡¯s hands clenched into fists. "You can¡¯t be serious!" She stepped forward, frustration clear in her voice. "You know this isn¡¯t just a simple wedding invitation. It¡¯s a political move. If something happens, you¡¯ll need someone you trust by your side!" Ravenna exhaled slowly, then stood up. She reached out and took Alice¡¯s hands in her own, her grip firm but gentle. "That¡¯s exactly why you have to stay behind." Alice was stunned by the rare moment of vulnerability in Ravenna¡¯s eyes. "You have Mina now," Ravenna continued. "She¡¯s unwell, and she needs you more than I do right now. I can¡¯t have you running around the palace, sniffing for information like you used to." Alice swallowed hard, emotions warring in her chest. "But¡ª" "I appreciate you, Alice," Ravenna said softly, squeezing her hands. "If not for you and Hughes, I wouldn¡¯t have survived the palace¡¯s chaos before my exile. You two ran through shadows, extracted information, and did the dirty work to keep me standing." Alice bit her lip. She had never once regretted her loyalty to Ravenna, but she had lost count of the times they had fought and bled to protect her. Ravenna¡¯s grip tightened slightly. "That¡¯s why, for me, stay back this time. I need you and Hughes to sit this one out." Alice wanted to argue, wanted to insist that she should be there. But she could see the determination in Ravenna¡¯s eyes¡ªthis wasn¡¯t just a command; it was a plea. "John will be my second-in-command," Ravenna continued. "I won¡¯t be alone. But if things take a turn for the worse, I don¡¯t want them using you or Hughes against me." Alice felt her breath hitch. She knew exactly what Ravenna meant. The imperial court was a battlefield without swords, where loved ones became hostages and pawns. If the emperor, Serena, or anyone else wanted leverage over Ravenna, they wouldn¡¯t hesitate to use those closest to her. A heavy silence settled between them. Finally, Alice sighed in defeat and nodded. "Fine. I¡¯ll stay." Ravenna smiled faintly, relief flickering in her gaze. "Thank you." Alice crossed her arms, scowling. "I don¡¯t like this." "I know," Ravenna said. "But it¡¯s for the best." Alice huffed, muttering under her breath as she continued sorting clothes. "At least let me make sure you don¡¯t look like a beggar at the ceremony." Ravenna chuckled. "I¡¯d expect nothing less from you." 68. Invitation to the Capital Alice huffed, muttering under her breath as she continued sorting clothes. "At least let me make sure you don¡¯t look like a beggar at the ceremony." Ravenna chuckled. "I¡¯d expect nothing less from you." As the door clicked shut behind Alice, Ravenna exhaled and leaned back in her chair. The faint sound of waves crashing against the shore outside Jola City served as a rhythmic reminder that she wasn¡¯t in the imperial capital yet. But her mind was already there¡ªsifting through possibilities, playing through events like pieces on a chessboard. With a flick of her wrist, she summoned the Reputation System. A translucent window appeared before her, floating in midair. [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 61 (4032 / 9400 EXP) Current Reputation Points: 24,567 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } "Hmm..." Ravenna hummed thoughtfully. Her reputation points had been growing steadily, But that wasn¡¯t her main focus. [ Spend Reputation Points ] She swiped through the system interface and pulled up the Internet Function, quickly navigating to the familiar website¡ªthe archive of the novel. Her fingers moved with practiced ease as she scrolled through the pages, re-reading the arc they were currently in. Serena¡¯s wedding marks the conclusion of the William Arc. After that, Eugene moves on to a different cast while William continues his pursuit of the throne. Ravenna tapped her fingers against the desk. ¡°Did I receive the invitation simply because I¡¯m still alive?¡± In the novel¡¯s original timeline, Ravenna should be long dead by the time this event took place. The poison meant to kill her would have already done its work. Her presence alone was a deviation from the plot. And she couldn¡¯t ignore what that meant. ¡°If I refuse to go, they¡¯ll think I¡¯m plotting something,¡± Ravenna muttered, eyes narrowing as she scrolled further. She continued reading, analyzing every detail of the events surrounding Serena¡¯s wedding. And then¡ª This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it. Something was off. She scrolled back, scanning the text again, her mind working at a breakneck pace. It all makes sense. She had long suspected that Ravenna originally died in Ronin Town but now she was sure of it. If Ravenna had been poisoned within the imperial palace, she shouldn¡¯t have lasted long enough to reach Jola. The Ronin family must have been involved in the poisoning. If she had truly died there in the original timeline, then her entourage¡ªHughes, John, Alice¡ªshould have been able to send word of her death back to the imperial palace. But they never did. No funeral. No mourning. No mention of her death in the novel at all. Because nobody even knew she had died. Her heart pounded as the realization set in. The Ronin Family must have wiped out her entire entourage after the poisoning took effect, ensuring that no messages escaped. And then, to cover their tracks, they must have staged an attack on Jola City like in this timeline, blaming it on pirates¡ªspreading the false narrative that Ravenna had been kidnapped and disappeared without a trace. That¡¯s why no one in the empire ever spoke of her again. It wasn¡¯t just an assassination¡ªit was an erasure. And William¡ªhe had known. That explained why he had so quickly launched a crusade against the Ronin Family in the novel, under the guise of "rescuing slaves". He had used their involvement in human trafficking as an excuse to dismantle them, destroying all traces of their connection to her death. The Ronin Family had been loyal to William. He had used them, let them carry out his dirty work, and then discarded them the moment they became a liability. He had tied up his loose ends so neatly that even the narrative of the novel never acknowledged his hand in Ravenna¡¯s death. The attack on Jola City had still happened, but this time, Ravenna was alive to see it unfold. That changed everything. Her survival had disrupted the natural flow of the plot. It forced the story to account for her presence, and the imperial court had responded accordingly. Ravenna sat back in her chair, tapping her fingers rhythmically against the desk."I need to make sure I stay out of the core events, and everything will be fine," she muttered to herself. She had already read this part of the novel multiple times, but she skimmed through it once more, ensuring there were no details she had overlooked. The Wedding Arc. In the novel, Serena¡¯s wedding was not just a grand imperial event¡ªit was a catastrophe. The ceremony was attacked by a horde of magical beasts, they tore through the palace guards like paper. Hundreds died, including noble families and high-ranking officials. And in the midst of the chaos, two figures rose as heroes. Eugene and William. The protagonist and the crown prince led the counterattack, rallying what remained of the imperial forces to fight back. Their actions solidified William¡¯s reputation, painting him as a leader worthy of the throne. His favorability among nobles skyrocketed, pushing his claim as emperor even further. Meanwhile, Eugene uncovered a critical clue about the mastermind behind the attack. That moment marked the end of the William Arc. From there, Eugene left the capital to pursue the villain behind the attack, and a new cast of characters joined him in the next arc. Ravenna sighed, rubbing her temples. "All I need to do is leave the room before the attack happens and return safely afterward," she murmured. It wasn¡¯t a complicated plan. She didn¡¯t need to interfere. She didn¡¯t need to be a hero or a villain. She just needed to stay out of the way. She closed the floating system window and exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling. ¡°Hopefully, this trip doesn¡¯t cause any major plot deviations¡­¡± But deep down, she had a sinking feeling. 69. Aim and Practice The protagonist and the crown prince led the counterattack, rallying what remained of the imperial forces to fight back. Their actions solidified William¡¯s reputation, painting him as a leader worthy of the throne. His favorability among nobles skyrocketed, pushing his claim as emperor even further. Meanwhile, Eugene uncovered a critical clue about the mastermind behind the attack. That moment marked the end of the William Arc. From there, Eugene left the capital to pursue the villain behind the attack, and a new cast of characters joined him in the next arc. Ravenna sighed, rubbing her temples. "All I need to do is leave the room before the attack happens and return safely afterward," she murmured. It wasn¡¯t a complicated plan. She didn¡¯t need to interfere. She didn¡¯t need to be a hero or a villain. She just needed to stay out of the way. She closed the floating system window and exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling. ¡°Hopefully, this trip doesn¡¯t cause any major plot deviations¡­¡± But deep down, she had a sinking feeling. Next Day at the Western Beach, Jola City, Jola Island With a sharp whip through the air, a steel-tipped arrow cut through the wind, slicing cleanly across the salty breeze before striking its target¡ªa small, circular archery mark tied to a wooden pillar on the beach. The target, suspended by a rope, swung wildly with each gust of wind, making it a difficult mark to hit. Then came another. Whip! Thud! And another. Whip! Thud! Each arrow landed, embedding itself into the target¡¯s outer rings. The strikes were rapid, precise, yet none found the bullseye. "Again! I¡¯ll try again!" A determined voice rang out across the shoreline, filled with frustration and resolve. Standing atop a large rock formation a few meters away, Marie readied another arrow, her fingers deftly loading the crossbow with practiced ease. Her brown hair, tied loosely behind her, was tousled by the coastal wind, strands whipping against her face. But she hardly noticed. Her focus was singular. She had to hit the bullseye. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. "Nope! You need to stop and review why you missed first!" The firm yet patient voice of Dame Aisha carried over the sounds of crashing waves. She stood near the pillar, arms crossed, her sharp eyes assessing Marie¡¯s form. The knight¡¯s tone was strict, but there was an unmistakable smirk on her lips. She had trained Marie for months and knew her better than anyone¡ªthe girl¡¯s stubbornness was unmatched. Marie groaned but lowered her crossbow. This was part of her daily training routine, an essential part of her combat drills. However, today was different. In just a week''s time, she would be leaving with Ravenna for the capital. It was more important than ever that she honed her skills¡ªespecially if she was to defend herself in unfamiliar lands. But Marie wasn¡¯t one to let a few missed shots deter her. "Oh, come on, Master Aisha! I can do it¡ªjust place them back!" She beamed at the older woman, her eyes filled with determination. The ocean breeze carried her voice, light yet unwavering. Aisha shook her head, chuckling softly. Marie¡¯s eagerness was obvious. She wanted to impress Ravenna before they departed. With a sigh, Aisha finally relented. "Fine. Only once," she said, amusement flickering in her gaze. Marie grinned triumphantly. Wasting no time, she adjusted her stance, bracing herself against the wind. Aisha turned back toward the target, resetting the worn wooden frame. The rhythmic crash of waves echoed across the shore, the scent of salt thick in the air. But Marie barely noticed. This time, she would hit the bullseye. She took a deep breath. Steady grip. Focused aim. Pull the trigger. Whip¡ª! But something went wrong. The moment she fired, a sharp sting shot through her hand. "Ouch¡ª!" She gasped, instinctively dropping her crossbow as pain flared through her finger. Dame Aisha¡¯s head snapped toward her. The bolt had fired, but Marie¡¯s finger had gotten caught in the mechanism. A thin line of blood welled up along her skin, the fresh cut standing out against her pale complexion. Aisha¡¯s eyes hardened, and without hesitation, she rushed toward her. "Let me see that!" Her voice was sharp with concern. Marie flinched but didn¡¯t pull away in time. Aisha had already grabbed her injured hand, her fingers firm yet careful as she examined the wound. A small but clean gash stretched across Marie¡¯s finger, a slow trickle of crimson seeping through. "We need to stop the bleeding¡ªcome on, let''s get to the church for a proper healing." Marie¡¯s reaction was far too quick. Before Aisha could even finish, Marie yanked her hand back, wrapping it tightly with a piece of cloth in one swift motion¡ªso fast it startled Aisha. Something wasn¡¯t right. Why was she acting like this? "It''s just a small cut¡ªdon¡¯t worry about it!" Marie forced a casual smile, but there was tension in her voice. Her posture had shifted, her shoulders tight, her gaze flickering toward the ground. She was avoiding eye contact. Aisha¡¯s brows furrowed. Something felt off. Marie¡¯s feet shuffled slightly as if she were preparing to run. Aisha moved quickly, gripping her arm before she could slip away. "Hold on. What are you¡ª" Her words died on her tongue. Aisha¡¯s sharp instincts screamed at her. She stared. The blood was gone. The wound that had been open just seconds ago¡ªcompletely vanished. Aisha¡¯s breath caught in her throat. "What in the world...?" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. Marie froze. Her expression was a storm of emotions¡ªfear, panic, and something else. A silent plea. Her wide brown eyes locked onto Aisha¡¯s, silently begging her not to say anything. But at the same time, there was a deep-rooted terror¡ªas if even Marie wasn¡¯t sure what was going to happen to her. Aisha slowly let go of her arm. "Marie¡­" she started, her voice gentle but firm. Marie opened her mouth, struggling for words. "I... I¡ª" But before she could finish, a voice echoed from behind them. "She is the Saintess." 70. Saintess鈥檚 Power "She is the Saintess." Both Marie and Dame Aisha turned their heads sharply toward the source of the voice. Standing a short distance away, her crimson cloak billowing slightly in the ocean breeze, was Ravenna. Her expression was unreadable¡ªstern, yet not unkind, her violet eyes studying them both with quiet intensity. Marie¡¯s breath hitched in her throat. ¡°M-Master?¡± she stammered, her wide brown eyes filled with shock and uncertainty. Beside her, Dame Aisha immediately straightened and bowed deeply. "Your Highness." Ravenna stepped forward with a deliberate grace, her heeled boots sinking slightly into the sand before she came to a stop in front of them. Her gaze lingered on Marie for a long moment before she finally spoke again. "I had hoped to keep this truth hidden for a little while longer," Ravenna admitted, a hint of irritation lacing her tone. "But it seems fate has other plans." She turned to Dame Aisha, her expression hardening. "I trust you understand the weight of this revelation?" Dame Aisha straightened, her posture rigid with the weight of responsibility. "I swear upon my honor as a knight, Your Highness, I will not speak of this to another soul." Ravenna studied her for a moment before giving a small nod of approval. "Good." Marie fidgeted, her hands curling into fists at her sides. She still hadn¡¯t fully processed what was happening. How did Ravenna know? How long had she known? And if she did¡­ why hadn¡¯t she said anything before? Before she could voice any of her questions, Ravenna turned her attention back to her. "Now, Marie. We have more pressing matters to attend to." Marie blinked in confusion. "Huh?" "Your dress fitting. We need to have it tailored before our departure to the capital." Ravenna stated, already turning on her heel and starting toward the waiting carriage. Marie, still dazed, cast one last glance at Dame Aisha. The knight gave her a reassuring nod, though there was an undeniable curiosity behind her gaze. Snapping back to the present, Marie quickly dipped into a small bow. This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version. "Thank you for today''s lesson, Dame Aisha!" she called before scrambling to catch up with Ravenna. The moment Marie climbed into the carriage, her heart was still pounding in her chest, and her hands felt clammy against the fabric of her dress. She barely had time to steady herself before Ravenna, seated across from her, let out an exasperated sigh. "I thought you knew better than to use your powers in public." Marie winced. "I do!" she insisted. "My father always told me to hide them¡ªto never heal in front of others. But¡­ it was a reflex this time." She glanced down at her hands, flexing her fingers as if expecting the wound to still be there. It wasn¡¯t. She had healed herself without even thinking. Ravenna clicked her tongue and leaned back against the cushioned seat, rubbing her temple with one hand. "Honestly, I can''t believe you managed to survive as a slave all this time without slipping up, given how little control you seem to have over yourself." The words, though not meant to be cruel, struck Marie like a dagger to the chest. Her breath hitched, and before she could stop it, her eyes stung with unshed tears. Ravenna, realizing her mistake, immediately sighed again¡ªthis time with a hint of regret. "Alright, alright¡ªstop with the waterworks. I get it, okay?" Marie gulped, blinking rapidly, but the emotions refused to be suppressed. Her voice cracked as she whispered, "I just¡­ I got too comfortable. I let my guard down." And just like that, the dam broke. Tears spilled down her cheeks, silent at first, but then her shoulders trembled, and a quiet sob escaped her lips. Ravenna''s eyes widened slightly, clearly caught off guard. "Oh, for the love of¡ª" She groaned under her breath before shifting closer, her hand reaching out hesitantly before finally resting on Marie¡¯s head. The touch was warm. Firm. Marie clenched her jaw, pressing her lips together as more tears fell. The weight of her past bore down on her shoulders like an unshakable shadow¡ªthe years of loneliness, of hiding. The memories of her father resurfaced like ghosts, vivid and aching. She could still feel his calloused hands wrapping hers in rough linen when she¡¯d scrape them on the village roads, hear the deep yet gentle cadence of his voice whispering reminders to always be careful. She remembered the warmth of their tiny home, the flickering lantern casting soft golden light against the wooden walls, the distant laughter of the village children playing outside. But that warmth had been ripped away, replaced by the cold, unrelenting dark of the slave cells. The stench of damp straw. The sharp clang of iron bars. The gnawing ache of hunger twisted her stomach until it became a dull, constant pain. The fear¡ªthe suffocating, ever-present fear that she wouldn¡¯t survive another day. That someone would discover her secret. That she would be dragged away and never see the light again. She had spent so many nights swallowing her tears, forcing herself to stay strong, to endure. Because if she had broken down then, no one would have been there to pick up the pieces. But now¡­ now, for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn¡¯t have to hold it all in. The realization shattered something inside her. A quiet, stifled sob turned into an uncontrollable flood of tears, her body trembling with the force of emotions she had buried for too long. Ravenna let out a small, almost resigned sigh, but this time, there was no impatience in it. She shifted closer, her movements slow and deliberate, as if unsure of what to do. Then, after a brief pause, she reached out and placed a hand atop Marie¡¯s head. It was an awkward gesture¡ªhesitant, unpracticed¡ªbut it was warm. Gentle. Comforting in a way that caught Marie completely off guard. Ravenna ruffled her hair lightly, exhaling another sigh¡ªsofter now, as if the weight of Marie¡¯s sorrow had settled on her shoulders, too. "What am I going to do with you?" she muttered, shaking her head. Marie let out a shaky breath, her sobs quieting just a little. She buried her face in her hands, her fingers curling into the fabric of her sleeves, as the last of her tears spilled freely. But the unbearable heaviness in her chest felt just a little lighter. And for that, she was grateful. 71. Tap Water 5:55 PM. The anticipation in the city was palpable. Thousands of citizens sat in their homes, eyes flickering between the ticking clock and the gleaming metal taps installed in their kitchens and bathrooms. This was a historic evening¡ªone that would forever change daily life in the city of Jola. Angelo stood in the small yet comfortable bathroom of his family¡¯s apartment, staring at the unfamiliar metal fixture before him. He hesitated, pointing at it as though it were some ancient relic rather than a marvel of modern ingenuity. ¡°S-So I just turn this, and water will start flowing?¡± he asked, his voice laced with both awe and skepticism. Sarah, chuckled softly as she sat on the floor playing with their young son, gently rolling a wooden toy cart back and forth between them. ¡°That¡¯s what the announcement said,¡± she replied, her tone brimming with excitement. ¡°According to Her Highness, the water is drinkable too. We just have to wait five more minutes¡ªwhen the clock strikes six.¡± Angelo glanced over at the large wooden clock mounted on the wall. Its ticking echoed softly through the room, each passing second making his heart race with anticipation. Five more minutes. Outside, the streets were unusually quiet. Normally, around this hour, farmers would still be working away their crops, children would be playing in the alleyways, and the sounds of life would fill the air. But tonight was different. Everyone had gathered in their homes, waiting for the exact moment when the city¡¯s promised water system would be activated. Angelo exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°That clock thing is really useful. We always get off work at the exact time and get back home without fail.¡± Sarah hummed in agreement, though her gaze remained on their child, who giggled as he chased after the rolling cart. The warm glow of the setting sun streamed through the windows, casting long shadows across the floor. As the final minutes ticked away, the entire city held its breath. Meanwhile, in Jola''s Lord Castle, Ravenna sat in her bedroom rather than her usual study. Stacks of documents lay spread across her desk, their contents detailing the final logistical reports of the water system¡¯s launch. Though her mind remained focused on the papers, her ears were keenly attuned to the ticking of the ornate golden clock mounted on the far wall. Not far from her, Marie stood before a full-length mirror, fidgeting uncomfortably as Alice and Jessica Taylor¡ªthe head of clothing in Jola¡ªadjusted yet another extravagant gown on her. Alice clapped her hands together, stepping back to admire her latest choice. ¡°How does this look?¡± This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. Marie turned to face the mirror, her reflection now adorned in an elegant young lady¡¯s gown. The fabric shimmered like liquid silver, catching the dim candlelight with every tiny movement. The fitted bodice was adorned with delicate gold embroidery, vines and flowers intertwining along its seams. The sleeves, flaring slightly at the elbows, ended in lace-trimmed cuffs. A high lace collar framed her slender neck, accentuating her refined features. Draped across her shoulders was a velvet capelet in midnight blue, its edges lined with soft silver fur. A crescent moon brooch fastened it in place, gleaming under the light. Her skirt cascaded in layered silk, translucent enough to reveal hints of glittering beadwork sewn along the hems. A silver pin adorned her styled hair, completing the look of quiet nobility. Alice smiled proudly, but Ravenna barely glanced up from her papers before shaking her head.¡°Hmm, the blue doesn¡¯t suit her. Try something less bright. She needs to match me too, right?¡± Alice tilted her head in thought. ¡°You might be right. I did think it was a bit too loud for the eyes.¡± muttered. Marie groaned dramatically. ¡°Master¡­ come on! I¡¯ve been changing clothes for three whole hours now! Can¡¯t we just pick one? Or better yet, why can¡¯t I wear something comfortable¡ªlike my usual outfits? These are so suffocating! I¡¯m sweating unfathomably!¡± Ravenna finally looked up, her lips curving into an amused smirk. The frustration in Marie¡¯s voice reminded her of herself¡ªof the long, grueling hours spent in the imperial palace, forced into layers upon layers of suffocating noble attire when she first arrived in this world. ¡°You¡¯ll have to endure it,¡± Ravenna said, stretching her arms before standing. ¡°This will be your first official appearance as my disciple. We can¡¯t have you wearing subpar clothing, and the free, open styles we wear in Jola aren¡¯t appropriate for the capital.¡± She gestured toward the window, where the golden hues of sunset bathed the distant horizon. ¡°The southern part of the empire is much colder than the far north where we are now. You grew up in one of the villages near the southern towns, didn¡¯t you? You should know that.¡± Marie huffed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. ¡°I know, I know¡­ but that doesn¡¯t mean I have to like it.¡± Alice and Jessica exchanged amused glances before selecting the next gown. Marie braced herself for yet another round of fittings, when¡ª The clock struck six. A chime echoed throughout the room. Ravenna¡¯s expression shifted, her lips curling into a satisfied smile. Setting her papers aside, she straightened her coat. ¡°Alright, let¡¯s take a break and check out the tap water, shall we?¡± Marie¡¯s frustration vanished in an instant. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she quickly turned toward the door. Behind her, Alice and Jessica began tidying away the fabrics, chuckling at her sudden burst of excitement. The moment the word ¡®break¡¯ left Ravenna¡¯s lips, Marie had already darted forward, practically dragging her along. As they made their way toward the main hall, the excitement outside had reached its peak. The entire city, from its southern districts to its northern apartment complexes, stood in anticipation. Then, at long last¡ª The taps turned. And for the first time in history, clean, fresh water flowed into every home. Cheers erupted across the city, voices rising into the evening sky as children laughed and splashed in the newfound miracle. People gathered around their taps, filling their cups and drinking in disbelief, some even shedding tears at the realization that they no longer had to fetch water from distant wells. Marie stood in stunned silence as Ravenna gracefully turned on the tap in her bedroom¡¯s private chamber. A stream of crystal-clear water flowed effortlessly into a porcelain basin. Marie gasped. ¡°It¡­ it really works.¡± Ravenna smirked, arms crossed as she watched the water glisten under the candlelight. ¡°Of course, it does. You didn¡¯t doubt me, did you?¡± 72. Siblings in the Imperial Palace of Ancorna [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 61 (7034 / 9400 EXP) Current Reputation Points: 44,454 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } Ravenna frowned slightly as she reread the glowing interface before her. ¡°My points doubled.¡± She scrolled through her status, taking note of the numbers. The surge had happened shortly after the city¡¯s household tap system was officially launched¡ªsomething she had expected. What caught her attention, however, was how the gain had slowed to a near halt. The increase had been rapid at first, but now, despite the continued waves of praise and gratitude from the citizens, her reputation points barely moved. ¡°Maybe there¡¯s a limit to how many points you can gain from the same people within a certain timeframe.¡± She tapped her fingers rhythmically against her desk, deep in thought. The system wasn¡¯t infinite¡ªit had rules. But if that was the case, it meant she couldn¡¯t rely on repeated actions to farm reputation indefinitely. She would need new accomplishments, and new ventures to keep her momentum going. Her gaze flickered toward the piles of parchment spread across her desk. The Innovation and Initiative Program still needed to be finalized before she departed for the imperial capital. The upcoming royal wedding had placed a strict deadline on her schedule. If she didn¡¯t complete it before leaving, progress in Jola might stagnate in her absence. With a sigh, she leaned back against her chair, rolling her shoulders to ease the stiffness from hours of work. Her attention drifted toward her bed. Nestled beneath the thick covers, Marie lay sound asleep. Her small form was curled up, her breathing soft and steady. Exhaustion had finally caught up to her after spending the entire day enduring dress fittings. She had tried to stay awake, still muttering complaints about suffocating corsets and heavy skirts, but sleep had claimed her mid-sentence. Ravenna¡¯s lips curved into a faint, almost wistful smile. The sight of Marie¡¯s peaceful face reminded her¡ªthis world is all I have now. Her past life, the life of Joy Cha Kim, was gone, nothing more than a distant memory. There was no going back, no waking up in her old world. But perhaps that wasn¡¯t such a tragedy. She had a new name. A new purpose. A new life. And as long as she remained in this world, she would live it to the fullest. With renewed determination, Ravenna turned back to her work, the candlelight casting a golden glow over her desk. There was still much to do, plans to complete, projects to oversee, and a main event of the story waiting beyond the horizon. Sun Palace, Capital City, Ancorna Empire The grandeur of the Imperial Palace was on full display as more than sixteen carriages rolled through its towering gates, their polished exteriors gleaming under the afternoon sun. Five of the carriages bore the emblem of Hilda Kingdom, while the remaining eleven carried the golden insignia of the Ancorna Empire¡ªa radiant sun encircled by a ring of swords. The arrival marked the long-awaited return of First Prince Nolan Solarius, who had spent the past two years in Hilda Kingdom alongside his wife, Princess Frederica Hill of Hilda, and their young son, Hans Solarius. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. As the lead carriage came to a halt, the door was opened by a royal attendant, and Prince Nolan stepped out first. He was a tall man with sharp, well-defined features, his black hair and dark eyes marking him unmistakably as a true-blooded Solarius. His imperial bearing was effortless, honed by years of training and discipline, yet there was a quiet edge to his gaze¡ªa subtle wariness cultivated by court life. Following behind him, Princess Frederica descended gracefully. Her golden-blonde hair shone like spun sunlight, cascading in elegant waves over her shoulders. Her cool blue eyes scanned the palace entrance with a practiced composure, though the slight stiffness in her posture betrayed her unease. Unlike her husband, whose roots were deeply tied to the empire, she was an outsider¡ªa princess of a foreign land now bound to the intricate web of imperial politics. Trailing behind them was their son, Hans Solarius, a small boy of about four years, his black hair a striking contrast to his mother¡¯s golden locks. He clutched the fabric of Frederica¡¯s gown tightly, peeking out cautiously from behind her as they approached the palace entrance. Standing at the top of the grand marble staircase was Emperor Andrew Solarius himself, flanked by palace officials and high-ranking nobles. Despite his advancing years, the emperor remained an imposing figure, his regal bearing unshaken by time. His dark eyes, much like his son¡¯s, carried both wisdom and the weight of rulership. As they approached, the emperor¡¯s stern expression softened slightly. ¡°My, my, Hans! You¡¯ve grown quite a bit since I last saw you!¡± His voice, deep yet warm, carried easily over the courtyard. Hans stiffened at the attention, gripping his mother¡¯s gown even tighter. After a brief pause, he peeked out hesitantly and mumbled, ¡°G-Good morning, Grandfather...¡± A low chuckle escaped Emperor Andrew¡¯s lips. ¡°Good morning, indeed!¡± Princess Frederica offered a polite smile and curtsied. ¡°Greetings, Father-in-law. It has been quite some time since I last set foot in the capital.¡± The emperor gave her a curt nod, though his attention remained fixed on his grandson. Frederica glanced down at Hans, gently rubbing his back before speaking again. ¡°I apologize. Hans is quite shy. He was only an infant when he last saw you, so it may take him some time to grow comfortable.¡± ¡°No need to apologize,¡± the emperor said, his gaze unwavering. ¡°Trust is not earned so easily, especially from such an esteemed young man.¡± At his words, Hans peeked up again, his small fingers twitching against the fabric of his mother¡¯s gown. ¡°Indeed, Father,¡± Prince Nolan interjected, stepping forward. ¡°It brings me great relief to see you in such fine health.¡± Emperor Andrew finally shifted his gaze to his son and gave him a slow nod. Then, without preamble, he stated, ¡°You should head inside. Landon and William arrived earlier today. Serena will be here in a few more days. As for Ravenna¡ªshe will be arriving in a week.¡± A brief silence followed. Prince Nolan blinked, his expression momentarily frozen. ¡°Ravenna? You invited Ravenna?¡± Princess Frederica, standing beside him, stiffened slightly, though she masked it well. The emperor¡¯s lips curved into a knowing smile, though his dark eyes gleamed with something unreadable. ¡°But of course. She may be exiled, but she is still your sister. It is only natural that she attends Serena¡¯s wedding.¡± A fleeting look of discomfort crossed Frederica¡¯s face. Nolan, too, hesitated before nodding stiffly. ¡°You¡­ You are right, of course.¡± With that, the imperial entourage moved inside, the grand palace doors swinging open to welcome them into the lavish corridors of the Sun Palace. The opulence of the Imperial Dining Hall was unrivaled¡ªits towering chandeliers cast a golden glow upon the long banquet table, set with the finest porcelain and silverware. The air was thick with the scent of freshly prepared delicacies, and murmured conversations echoed beneath the high-vaulted ceilings. As Prince Nolan and his family made their way inside, they were immediately approached by a tall man with broad shoulders and a playful smirk. ¡°Well, well. The mighty scholar has finally returned,¡± the man remarked with an amused gleam in his sharp eyes. Prince Landon Solarius. His dark hair and piercing gaze marked him as another of the emperor¡¯s sons, though unlike Nolan, his expression always carried a mischievous edge. Nolan let out a short laugh. ¡°Of course¡ª¡± ¡°Oh, I wasn¡¯t talking about you,¡± Landon interrupted smoothly, his smirk widening. He then crouched down to Hans¡¯s level, ruffling the boy¡¯s hair. ¡°I was talking about the mighty Prince Hans.¡± Hans blinked in surprise, looking up at his uncle with wide eyes. Frederica chuckled, finally relaxing slightly. ¡°It¡¯s nice to see you again, Your Highness Landon,¡± she greeted with a polite nod. ¡°And you as well, Frederica.¡± Landon straightened and fell into step beside Nolan as they continued toward the main table. Once they were slightly distanced from the rest, Nolan lowered his voice and murmured, ¡°What¡¯s this about inviting Ravenna? I thought Serena explicitly ensured she wasn¡¯t on the guest list?¡± Landon sighed, his demeanor fading just a fraction. He responded in the same hushed tone, ¡°I don¡¯t know. He made the decision himself. This is one of his games again.¡± Nolan clenched his jaw. Their father was always calculating, always scheming. If he had invited Ravenna to the wedding, It meant something. And whatever it was, it would soon come to light. 73. A Breakfast at Imperial Palace Prince Landon took his seat beside his wife, Maria Eldric, the daughter of Minister Frank Eldric. Maria carried herself with the same regal bearing as her father¡ªa woman of grace and quiet strength. Her dark brown hair, styled in an elegant updo, framed her poised features, and her sharp, perceptive eyes reflected a composed intelligence. She rarely spoke unless necessary, yet when she did, her words were measured and precise, leaving little room for dispute. She was a pillar of dignity, embodying the refined decorum expected of an imperial princess by marriage. Seated beside her were their two children¡ªBenric Solarius, their fourteen-year-old son, and Gracie Solarius, their fifteen-year-old daughter. Benric sat upright, his posture disciplined even during the informal setting of breakfast. A small sword rested at his waist, a silent declaration of his dedication to the art of swordsmanship. Though it was not customary to bring weapons to the imperial dining table, no one questioned it¡ªhis unwavering passion for the blade was already well known. His deep, dark eyes, a signature trait of the Solarius bloodline, carried a quiet intensity, while his dark brown hair, inherited from his mother, framed his youthful yet resolute face. Even at his age, there was an air of seriousness about him, as if he were already preparing for the responsibilities that awaited him in the future. Next to him, Gracie Solarius sat with the effortless grace expected of a noble lady. Her brown hair, styled in soft curls, cascaded elegantly down her back, complementing the intricate design of her luxurious dress¡ªembroidered with gold and adorned with fine pearls. Unlike her mother and brother, whose expressions remained measured, Gracie¡¯s deep, dark eyes shimmered with curiosity and quiet amusement as she observed the interactions around her. There was an air of refinement in her every movement, yet beneath that polished demeanor lay a keen mind and a subtle sharpness, inherited from both her parents. She was no mere decoration at court¡ªGracie was a young lady who watched, listened, and understood far more than she let on. The sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the grand hall as Prince William Solarius entered, his long stride exuding confidence. His black hair, neatly combed back, and his finely tailored attire reflected the effortless elegance of a man well-versed in imperial decorum. Though he was slightly late, his entrance carried none of the hurried energy of someone seeking to make up for lost time. Instead, he exuded the casual ease of someone who knew that his presence alone was enough. "Oh, I apologize, Father. I seem to be a bit late," William said smoothly, bowing his head slightly as he approached the table. Emperor Andrew barely spared him a glance, simply nodding and waving a hand dismissively before returning his attention to the meal preparations. It was neither approval nor disapproval¡ªjust a silent acknowledgment. William, unfazed, moved to take his seat opposite Prince Landon and next to Prince Nolan. ¡°Good to see you back, brother. And you as well, sister-in-law,¡± William greeted with a charming smile as he settled into his chair. Frederica returned the greeting with a graceful nod, her voice calm and composed. ¡°I am also grateful to see you again, Your Highness William.¡± Nolan, always the quieter of the brothers, simply nodded with a small smile. William¡¯s gaze drifted past Frederica until he spotted Hans, the youngest member of the family, seated beside his mother. A warm smile spread across William¡¯s face as he addressed him. ¡°This is my first time meeting you, Hans.¡± He leaned forward slightly, his tone playful yet gentle. ¡°I am Uncle William.¡± Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. Hans hesitated for a moment, his small fingers clutching his spoon tightly before he finally stammered, ¡°Ni... Nice to meet you too, Uncle William.¡± A chuckle escaped William at the boy¡¯s shy response, but before he could say more, Emperor Andrew clapped his hands once, signaling the beginning of the meal. Servants immediately entered the hall in well-practiced synchronization, carrying silver trays laden with an array of dishes¡ªsteamed eggs with herbs, roasted meats, freshly baked bread, golden honeyed pastries, and an assortment of fruits imported from the southern provinces. The rich aroma filled the hall, mingling with the gentle clinking of silverware as the Imperial family prepared to dine. As the meal commenced, Prince Nolan took a measured bite of his food before turning his attention to his younger brother. "I heard you''ve accomplished quite a bit while I was away, William." His tone was casual, but the underlying curiosity was evident. "Subduing an eighth-rank dungeon isn¡¯t a small feat." Across the table, Prince William reached for his goblet, taking a sip of water before responding with an easy smile. "Well, you¡¯re no stranger to making history yourself, brother. Didn¡¯t you gain access to Hilda Kingdom¡¯s Alchemy Research Institute¡¯s High Library? That makes you the twenty-sixth foreigner ever to be granted that honor, doesn¡¯t it?" Nolan chuckled, leaning back slightly. "Yeah, that was a surprise to me as well." It was clear that William was deliberately steering the conversation away from his own achievement¡ªor more specifically, from any talk regarding the dungeon. The avoidance did not go unnoticed. Seated beside Nolan, Princess Frederica took the opportunity to praise her husband. "Nolan worked tirelessly to earn the scholars¡¯ approval. His dedication and understanding of their teachings impressed even Father." Her words were graceful, yet laced with a quiet assertion¡ªa reminder that her husband¡¯s accomplishments were not to be downplayed. Prince Landon, however, smirked as he lazily cut into his meal. "Yes, I imagine it must have been quite the effort¡­ spending long hours behind closed doors with scholars, it requires quite the stamina." His tone was light, but there was a distinct sharpness to it¡ªa thinly veiled reference to the affair scandal that had been discreetly covered up by King Julian Hill to preserve both his dignity and his daughter¡¯s reputation. A brief silence followed. Nolan¡¯s jaw tightened ever so slightly before he made a deliberate clearing of his throat¡ªa subtle attempt to shift the conversation. For a fraction of a second, a flicker of something cold and sharp passed across Frederica¡¯s expression, but it vanished almost immediately, replaced by her usual composed smile. Nolan exhaled and returned fire. "You certainly don¡¯t lack accomplishments yourself, Landon. Increasing anti-imperial sentiment among the vassal states¡ªquite the remarkable achievement, wouldn¡¯t you say?" The tension in the room thickened. Landon¡¯s easygoing demeanor faltered for just a moment as he opened his mouth to retort, but before he could get a word out, a sharp clink echoed through the hall. The deliberate tap of a spoon against a fine porcelain cup. All eyes turned toward Emperor Andrew. His expression remained impassive, but the message was clear¡ªthis childish bickering would not continue under his watch. With effortless authority, Emperor Andrew redirected the discussion. "Benric," he said, turning toward his grandson, "I hear your swordsmanship training has been progressing well. Your master tells me you''re already fighting at the level of a knight?" At the sudden attention, Benric Solarius immediately straightened his posture. The fourteen-year-old carefully wiped his mouth with a napkin before setting it down, demonstrating the disciplined composure expected of him. "Yes, Grandfather!" His voice carried a mixture of pride and youthful excitement. "Just last week, I won a duel against a knight. My master said I¡¯m ready to advance to magic swordsmanship training!" A ripple of murmurs passed through the table. Such progress at his age was impressive. Emperor Andrew¡¯s gaze softened with approval. "My, my¡­ quite the fast learner, aren¡¯t you? I recall having to wait until I was sixteen before I was even allowed to begin magic swordsmanship." Benric¡¯s chest swelled slightly at the praise, his dark eyes shining with satisfaction. The emperor smiled, nodding. "Such dedication deserves to be rewarded. I ought to present you with something fitting for your efforts." Benric¡¯s expression brightened further, though he remained respectfully silent, waiting to hear what his grandfather had in mind. 74.The Capital City Benric Solarius immediately straightened his posture. The fourteen-year-old carefully wiped his mouth with a napkin before setting it down, demonstrating the disciplined composure expected of him. "Yes, Grandfather!" His voice carried a mixture of pride and youthful excitement. "Just last week, I won a duel against a knight. My master said I¡¯m ready to advance to magic swordsmanship training!" Emperor Andrew¡¯s gaze softened with approval. "My, my¡­ quite the fast learner, aren¡¯t you? I recall having to wait until I was sixteen before I was even allowed to begin magic swordsmanship." Benric¡¯s chest swelled slightly at the praise, his dark eyes shining with satisfaction. The emperor smiled, nodding. "Such dedication deserves to be rewarded. I ought to present you with something fitting for your efforts." Benric¡¯s expression brightened further, though he remained respectfully silent, waiting to hear what his grandfather had in mind. "I also heard that Gracie has performed exceptionally well in her Hilda language studies at the Imperial Noble Academy," he remarked. At this, Gracie froze mid-bite, her fork hovering above her plate. A moment later, she puffed her cheeks in an indignant pout before setting down her utensils. "Grandfather! You promised not to have spies watching over me at the academy!" she protested, her voice carrying the unmistakable tone of youthful exasperation. "I was planning to surprise Aunt Frederica by speaking in Hilda when I visited her!" A soft chuckle rippled through the table. The Emperor, unfazed by his granddaughter¡¯s mock outrage, let out a deep, hearty laugh, the sound echoing warmly through the grand dining hall. "My dear Gracie, how could I not be concerned about my beloved granddaughter¡¯s progress?" he said, his tone rich with affection. "It is only natural that I take an interest in the accomplishments of my family. And if you truly wish to surprise Frederica, I am certain she will be delighted regardless." Frederica, sitting beside Nolan, smiled at Gracie. "Oh? I would love to hear you speak in Hilda, dear. Perhaps you can give us a small demonstration now?" she teased lightly. Gracie crossed her arms, still pouting, though her expression betrayed amusement. "No, Aunt Frederica! I refuse! You¡¯ll have to wait for my surprise!" A ripple of laughter spread around the table. Even Prince William, who had been somewhat withdrawn, allowed himself a small chuckle. The once-tense atmosphere had lifted entirely, replaced with the warmth of familial teasing and shared amusement. With a pleased nod, Emperor Andrew leaned back slightly. "You both have shown great dedication in your pursuits¡ªBenric with his swordsmanship and Gracie with her studies. Such efforts should not go unrewarded." The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. His words carried the weight of a promise. At this, both Benric and Gracie sat up straighter, anticipation glimmering in their eyes. Though no specific rewards were mentioned yet, they knew their grandfather was a man of his word. As the conversation drifted back to lighter topics, the atmosphere around the table settled into one of ease and warmth. A Week Later, Street of Imperial District, Capital City of Ancorna [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 61 (9390 / 9400 EXP) Current Reputation Points: 49,000 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } Ravenna¡¯s lips curled in satisfaction as she reviewed the numbers. Her reputation points were growing steadily, no doubt thanks to her high-profile return through the main streets. The whispers, the gazes, the hushed voices carrying her name¡ªit all fed into the system. [Reputation System Log] Just then, a burst of excitement shattered her thoughts. "Master! Look over there! That shop is selling artifacts! And¡ªwait! That one has caged magical beasts!" Ravenna turned to see Marie, her ever-enthusiastic companion, practically hanging out of the carriage window, eyes wide with childish wonder. The girl¡¯s exuberance was infectious, and for a brief moment, Ravenna almost felt amused. The grandeur of Ancorna, the heart of the empire, stretched out before them as the imperial carriage rumbled along the cobblestone streets of the Imperial District. Banners bearing the golden insignia of the Solarius family fluttered high above the streets, marking the city''s noble quarters. Beyond the window, the marketplaces of Ancorna were alive with a vibrant display of goods¡ªenchanted jewelry, elixirs in crystalline vials, finely crafted weapons, and magical trinkets pulsing with magic energy. There were beast merchants, their stalls lined with glowing-eyed felines, miniature drakes, and even the rare spirit-bound familiars that only the wealthiest could afford. Marie, completely mesmerized, pressed her hands against the window as if she might leap out at any moment. Ravenna let out a soft chuckle. "At least try to maintain some decorum, Marie. We will be meeting our enemies soon." Marie pulled her head back inside, blinking in confusion. "You keep calling them enemies¡­ but aren¡¯t they your family, Master?" she asked, tilting her head. Ravenna¡¯s smile did not falter. If anything, it sharpened. "Of course. That is precisely why they are the enemies." There was a brief silence, the weight of her words sinking in. Then, her voice took on a teaching tone, one Marie had heard many times before. "Now, tell me¡ªwhat must a raven do when faced with a beast larger than itself?" Marie straightened up, eager to recite the lesson she had memorized. "It targets its weak spots since it cannot fight head-on! Like¡­ plucking out its eyes!" Ravenna gave an approving nod. "That¡¯s right. A raven does not fight for dominance¡ªit fights for survival. It strikes where it must, and only when the time is right." Marie clenched her small fists, determination flickering in her youthful gaze. "Then I will make sure to hold my own, Master! You don¡¯t need to worry!" Ravenna simply smiled, shifting her gaze back to the window. In the distance, the imperial palace loomed, its towering spires of white marble and gilded domes gleaming under the midday sun. It stood majestic. "The den of beasts is finally in sight," she murmured. 75. Herptian As Ravenna stepped down from the carriage, the grand entrance of the Imperial Palace stretched before her in all its imposing majesty. The sun cast long shadows against the towering white marble columns, their golden inlays glinting under the afternoon light. The palace gates stood open, welcoming yet suffocating, as if beckoning her back into the den of beasts. Before she could take another step, a mocking voice rang out, laced with familiar condescension. ¡°So, how was the weather in the north?¡± Ravenna¡¯s gaze flickered to the speaker Prince William, her ever-persistent thorn. He stood beside their father, Emperor Andrew Solarius, his arms crossed and a smirk playing on his lips. Without missing a beat, she replied with an air of calm indifference. ¡°Hot, as one would expect from the northern empire, brother.¡± The emperor intervened before the conversation could devolve into pettiness as always among his children. His piercing gaze settled on Ravenna as he spoke. ¡°Welcome back to the capital, Ravenna. Get some rest¡ªyou¡¯ve only just arrived.¡± His words were formal, spoken more like an edict than a warm greeting, but she expected nothing more. Ravenna gave a small, measured nod. "Good meeting you, Father." Her tone was neither cold nor affectionate, just matter-of-fact, as if discussing diplomatic affairs rather than familial ties. Turning, she reached out a hand, helping Marie out of the carriage. The young girl¡¯s bright eyes darted around the palace grounds, her wonder barely concealed behind a veil of practiced composure. stepping onto the imperial palace was an entirely different experience. The emperor¡¯s gaze landed on the unfamiliar girl, his brow slightly furrowing. "And who is this young lady?" Ravenna smiled, a rare expression, though one that did not quite reach her eyes. "Oh, I took in a disciple." That single statement sent a ripple of surprise through the air. Emperor Andrew¡¯s eyes widened slightly, though he said nothing. It was William who let out a short, disbelieving chuckle. ¡°Huh¡­ the high and mighty Ravenna taking in a disciple? I never thought I¡¯d see the day.¡± His smirk deepened as he added, ¡°Well, I suppose it was bound to happen. Given your¡­ attitude, you have no prospects for a normal successor, after all.¡± His words were a thinly veiled jab, an attempt to provoke her. Ravenna did not rise to the bait. She had long since learned that responding to a barking dog only encouraged it to bark louder. Instead, she merely turned to Marie and dusted off the hem of the girl¡¯s cloak. Before William could push further, the emperor¡¯s voice rang out¡ªfirm and unwavering. The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon. ¡°Get the young lady inside. She must be fatigued from the journey.¡± Though spoken as an instruction, the message was clear: This was not the time for petty quarrels. William huffed but said nothing more. With that, Ravenna, Marie, and their entourage of attendants and guards moved past them, stepping through the grand doors of the Imperial Palace. As they entered, the scent of polished stone, parchment, and distant flowers filled the air¡ªa place unchanged yet ever treacherous. The Raven had returned to the nest. After a few hours, Ravenna had finally settled into her chambers within the Imperial Palace. The familiar rich scent of cedarwood and lavender filled the air, mingling with the warmth of the crackling fireplace. Marie had been given a room in the same wing, close enough to be summoned at a moment¡¯s notice. But for now, exhaustion weighed heavily on Ravenna¡¯s limbs. With a sigh, she undressed and slipped into a silken nightgown, welcoming the contrast between the capital¡¯s cool night air and the dry, relentless heat of Jola. Here, nestled beneath soft velvet sheets, she could finally relax. The warmth of the fireplace was just enough to lull her into a deep, dreamless slumber. At least, that was what she thought. Yet, within that sleep, something felt off. At first, she dismissed it as nothing more than the natural sensation of her body shifting beneath the covers. But soon, the feeling became strange¡­ intoxicatingly warm. A pleasurable heat coursed through her veins, a hypnotic trance settling over her. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she felt herself moving yet not by her own will. Then, in an instant, she became aware. Her eyes fluttered open, and everything was different. The sheets beneath her were not the ones in her chamber. In fact, the entire room was different¡ªgrander, more opulent than even the Imperial Palace itself. The bed she lay upon was unlike anything she had ever known, its pillows impossibly soft, its silken drapes embroidered with intricate celestial patterns. For a moment, her drowsy mind struggled to process her surroundings. Then, another realization struck her. She was naked beneath the sheets. Her pulse spiked, a confusion running down her mind as she clutched the fabric to her chest. Where am I?! Her breath came in slow, controlled exhales as she took in the grand chamber. The architecture was otherworldly¡ªtowering marble columns carved with golden vines, a ceiling that seemed to shimmer like a night sky, and a scent in the air that was both intoxicating and divine. Then she noticed it¡ªa presence beside her. Turning her head sharply, her breath hitched. A woman lay beside her, barely concealed beneath the silken sheets. And she was breathtaking. Long, flowing hair cascaded over the pillows, glistening like strands of liquid gold. Her skin was flawless, radiating an ethereal glow, and her features were so perfect that they seemed almost otherworldly. No¡ªthey were otherworldly. Ravenna¡¯s heart pounded violently in her chest. She couldn¡¯t look away¡ªsomething about this woman¡¯s beauty was mesmerizing, overwhelming, inescapable. And then, the woman stirred. With a soft, melodic hum, she stretched like a feline, her eyes fluttering open. Their gaze met. Deep, celestial eyes¡ªimpossibly radiant¡ªlocked onto Ravenna¡¯s. A chill of recognition ran through her. The woman giggled¡ªa sound both enchanting and terrifying. "W-Who are you?! What have you d¡ª" Ravenna¡¯s voice caught in her throat. Her body trembled, not from fear, but from sheer, undeniable realization. She knew this face. She had seen countless sculptures, paintings, and holy depictions of this very figure. This presence¡­ this radiance¡­ it was impossible to mistake. And yet, here she was¡ªlying beside her, as real as the breath in her lungs. The woman smiled, tilting her head as if amused by Ravenna¡¯s shock. "Me?" Her voice was like a celestial melody, reverberating not only in the room but within Ravenna¡¯s very soul. "I can''t believe my most favored subject doesn¡¯t recognize me." Ravenna''s mind spun, her breath caught between disbelief and undeniable truth. For the woman beside her was none other than¡ª Goddess Herptian. 76. Conversation With A Goddess "Me?" Her voice was like a celestial melody, reverberating not only in the room but within Ravenna¡¯s very soul. "I can''t believe my most favored subject doesn¡¯t recognize me. Or rather, you aren''t, isn''t that right¡­ Joy Cha Kim?" Herptian said The words struck like thunder, sending an icy shiver down Ravenna''s spine. She felt frozen, her breath hitching as she stared at the divine being before her. ¡°I¡­ I¡ª¡± Ravenna stammered, unable to form a coherent response. Herptian¡¯s golden eyes gleamed with amusement as she leaned closer, placing a finger beneath Ravenna¡¯s chin. ¡°How arrogant of you¡­¡± Herptian purred, her voice dripping with mockery and amusement, ¡°to steal my beautiful Apostle¡¯s place and deprive me of indulging in her beauty.¡± Her lips curled into a teasing smirk as she crawled onto the bed, her body bare and divine, a vision so alluring that Ravenna felt her senses slipping. This is dangerous. She was overwhelmed. The soft glow of her golden skin, the delicate curves of her form¡ªeverything about Herptian was hypnotic, unnatural, divine. Ravenna forced herself to focus, clutching the silk sheets closer to her chest. ¡°I¡­ I didn¡¯t take this body because I wanted to!¡± Ravenna protested, her voice shaky but firm. ¡°I just woke up in it! I don¡¯t even know how it happened!¡± Herptian¡¯s expression didn¡¯t change, but there was something amused in the way she tilted her head. ¡°Oh? So you claim innocence?¡± The goddess''s voice was soft yet dangerous, like the purr of a lioness about to pounce. Ravenna took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside her head. She needed to think. Where was she? She looked around, her mind racing through the religious texts and myths of this world. This must be Celestia Castle, the divine palace in the realm of the gods, the heaven of light¡¯s conquest¡¯s world. Herptian, the goddess of indulgence and lust, ruled this place. It was said she brought souls into her embrace, seducing them into pleasure and servitude before passing them along to Solious, the goddess of light, for reincarnation. A terrifying realization struck her. "Am I¡­ dead?" Ravenna whispered. Herptian''s laughter rang through the air¡ªrich, sultry, and full of mischief. She reached out, trailing a soft finger over Ravenna¡¯s lips before answering. "No, my dear. You''re very much alive. I simply summoned you here for a little¡­ fun." Ravenna felt her stomach drop. The goddess¡¯s voice dripped with implication, making her clutch the sheets even tighter. "You¡­ you didn¡¯t¡ª¡± she started hesitantly. Herptian chuckled. "Why do you think I wouldn¡¯t?" The goddess leaned back, stretching like a satisfied predator. "I did," she purred, her golden eyes locked onto Ravenna¡¯s. "Many times, in fact." Ravenna felt the blood drain from her face. "What¡­?" "Ravenna was already mine," Herptian continued casually, twirling a strand of golden hair around her finger. "She belonged to me long before you ever stole her body. I''ve taken her to my bed countless times, after all. She is an Apostle, my favored beauty." If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. Ravenna''s mind reeled. She had read the legends¡ªHerptian, the most depraved of the divine, was famous for claiming her Apostles. It was said that once an Apostle of Herptian passed on, their soul remained in her harem forever, as a divine resting place for them. What More the whispered folklore¡ªthat Herptian could summon the souls of her chosen even while they still lived, indulging in them and then erasing their memories before sending them back to the mortal realm. And now, the goddess was telling her that Ravenna had been one of them too. "Your interference has cost me dearly," Herptian sighed dramatically. "Ravenna was supposed to join me permanently months ago. Do you have any idea how much effort it took to make one of Solious¡¯s own lineage my Apostle? Do you even understand what you''ve ruined?" She stretched, her movements slow and deliberate, as if to torture Ravenna further with seducation. "You¡¯ve deprived me of a beautiful soul in my bed, little thief." Ravenna clenched her fists, frustration and confusion warring within her. ¡°I told you, I don¡¯t know how I got here! It wasn¡¯t my intention, okay?!" Herptian sighed, resting her chin in her palm as she studied Ravenna with an unreadable expression. "Even so," she mused, "you should be grateful." Ravenna blinked, her expression with wariness. "Grateful?" Herptian¡¯s lips curled into a slow, indulgent smile, her golden eyes gleaming with amusement. "Yes, grateful," the goddess murmured, voice dripping with honeyed mischief. "Grateful that I didn¡¯t strip you of your status as my Apostle after you merged with her soul. You¡¯re still mine, after all." Ravenna uneasily. "What¡­ what do you mean?" she asked, her voice quieter now, laced with apprehension. Herptian let out a soft chuckle, shifting to sit beside Ravenna on the bed, her presence both intoxicating and suffocating. She leaned back against the plush pillows, her body draped in nothing but divinity. "You see," she began, tracing lazy circles on the silk sheets, "Ravenna¡ªthe youngest of Solious¡¯s bloodline at the time¡ªwas never meant to live." Ravenna was confused. Never meant to live? Herptian sighed, as if recalling something mildly inconvenient. "Solious messed up," she continued, her voice laced with satisfaction. "Ravenna¡¯s soul was flawed¡ªdefective, even. She was born incapable of circulating mana, meaning she wouldn¡¯t have survived infancy.". "So Solious¡­ begged you for help?" Ravenna asked cautiously, she used ¡®begged¡¯ to appease Herptian''s ego. Herptian smirked, tapping a finger against her lips. "Life might be her domain, but death belongs to me," she purred. "She came crawling, pleading for me to intervene." Ravenna processed the words carefully. "And in return, you made Ravenna your Apostle¡­ to keep her alive?" "Naturally." Herptian stretched luxuriously, tilting her head. "How could I possibly resist? A direct descendant of that insufferable wench of justice and purity¡ªin my harem?" Her laughter was rich and sultry. "It was the perfect revenge." Ravenna nodded slowly, piecing things together. In The myths of the First Age, when the twelve gods, alongside the Saintess, waged war against the Absolute Being, Who enslaved the world. Herptian had no interest in that war¡ªuntil Solious made an offer. She had promised to sleep with Herptian in exchange for her support in the final battle. But once the war was won, Solious had turned her words against her. "I promised to ¡®sleep¡¯ beside you, not to lay with you," she had said with a triumphant smile. The deception had enraged Herptian. Since then, their faiths had been locked in eternal opposition¡ªSolious, the paragon of purity and light, and Herptian, the embodiment of indulgence and lust. Herptian had never forgiven her. And now, taking Ravenna into her harem had been her way of one-upping her divine rival. Ravenna exhaled. "But then you came along and ruined it," Herptian mused, her voice turning colder. "Ravenna was supposed to die, poisoned, fated to join me here in my bed for eternity. But then you, little thief, interfered." Ravenna swallowed hard. She hadn¡¯t known. She hadn¡¯t meant to change anything. She had only woken up in this body and had to survive. Ravenna clenched her jaw, biting back the first thought that came to her mind. "Incestuous pervert." Herptian¡¯s expression shifted again, a lazy smirk playing on her lips. "But despite your transgression," she continued, "I didn¡¯t revoke your status. I allowed you to remain my Apostle, even as you¡ª" she trailed a finger down Ravenna¡¯s arm, her touch feather-light, "slowly erased everything that made you An Apostle." "You stopped indulging in the luxuries Ravenna once adored," Herptian mused, her voice almost wistful. "You dissolved the traits that defined my Apostles, and yet, I let you live." She tilted Ravenna¡¯s chin again, forcing their gazes to meet. "You should be grateful." Ravenna gritted her teeth, her throat dry. ¡°I¡­¡± She took a slow breath before stiffly murmuring, "Thank you, Goddess. Is that enough?" Herptian¡¯s smile widened. "No." Before Ravenna could react, warm lips pressed against her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. "You dared to ignore Ravenna¡¯s greatest desire," Herptian whispered against her skin. "And that, my dear, I will not forgive." A pulse of divine energy surged through the room. Ravenna jerked back, her body instinctively trying to retreat. "What¡ª?" Herptian finally pulled away, standing to her full height, her golden hair cascading over her bare shoulders like liquid sunlight. Her expression was no longer playful, but resolute. "You must become the Empress Of Ancorna." 77. Rules for Survival "You dared to ignore Ravenna¡¯s greatest desire," Herptian whispered, her warm breath grazing Ravenna¡¯s skin. "And that, my dear, I will not forgive." A pulse of divine energy rippled through the chamber, sending a tremor through the air. Ravenna instinctively jerked back, her body tensing as if struck by an unseen force. "What¡ª?" Herptian finally stepped away, straightening to her full height. Her golden hair cascaded over her bare shoulders like liquid sunlight, each strand shimmering with divine radiance. Her eyes, which had once held amusement, now burned with cold determination. "You must become the Empress of Ancorna." Ravenna¡¯s breath hitched. "What?!" she blurted, her voice sharp with disbelief. In her shock, she let go of the bedsheet she had been gripping, barely noticing as it pooled around her feet. She pointed at Herptian, her movements frantic. "I told you already¡ªit wasn¡¯t my intention to take over Ravenna¡¯s body! I don¡¯t even know how it happened!" Herptian¡¯s smirk remained, unfazed by Ravenna¡¯s panic. "It may not have been your intention," she conceded, voice as smooth as silk, "but the one who did this clearly wished for you to have another chance at life. And in doing so¡ª" her smile darkened¡ª"they robbed me of my favored Apostle." Ravenna clenched her fists, her mind racing. Herptian continued, stepping closer with an almost predatory grace. "I would have traced the magic that facilitated this¡­ inconvenience. But there¡¯s something¡ªsomething powerful¡ªpreventing me from tracking the origin of the spell that brought you here." Just then, a faint chime echoed in Ravenna¡¯s mind. The translucent screen appeared before her. [ Reputation System v0.1 ] Notice: Tracking Prevented Ravenna¡¯s eyes widened. So the system is actively blocking Herptian from investigating the truth? Even with this revelation, she wasn¡¯t given time to dwell on it. Herptian¡¯s voice remained unwavering. "Regardless," the goddess murmured, "it does not change my demand. You will ascend the throne." Ravenna exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "I can¡¯t. If I become the Empress, the Absolute One will be revived! He will destroy everything!" Her voice rose in desperation. "I want no part in this story! Just like it was supposed to be!" Herptian scoffed, tilting her head slightly, the movement slow and deliberate. "Why should I care," she mused, "if my father is revived? Or if the world is destroyed?" Her gaze flickered with amusement. "That¡¯s of no consequence to me." Ravenna fell silent, her pulse thudding against her ribs. Of course. Herptian was never one to concern herself with the fate of the world. She indulged only in her desires, in the pleasures of the flesh, in the pursuit of luxury. That was why Solious had tricked her into aiding the gods during the Age of Divinity¡ªoffering a false promise in return for Herptian¡¯s power. Now, Herptian¡¯s only grievance was losing what she believed was hers. "I went through so much trouble to bring Ravenna into my harem," Herptian continued, her voice laced with frustration, "and now my plans are in ruins. And you expect me to simply accept that without any conditions?" Ravenna took a deep breath, forcing herself to stand her ground. She lifted her chin. "You keep saying you worked hard for this," she countered, "but all you did was accept Solious¡¯s request to save her. Ravenna just fell into your lap¡ªit was given to you for free." Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. Herptian¡¯s expression flickered, but rather than anger, there was something else¡ªamusement. The goddess stepped closer, the space between them shrinking. "You¡¯ve seen the past and the future, haven¡¯t you?" Herptian murmured, eyes half-lidded. "You ought to know why time was able to reverse in the first place." Ravenna¡¯s breath caught as Herptian¡¯s charm washed over her like a tide¡ªseductive, overwhelming. She forced herself to take a step back, sitting on the bed once more, mind racing. Why did the timeline reset? Then it clicked. In Light¡¯s Conquest, the revelation had come at the very end¡ªa twist that redefined everything. The protagonist, Eugene, had woken up in the past, memories intact, because all twelve gods had agreed to turn back time. The world had been at its final moments¡ªthe Absolute One had nearly emerged, unstoppable and eternal. Desperate, the gods had collectively reversed the timeline to prevent his resurrection entirely. Solious, the Goddess of Life, had ensured that her chosen Apostle, Eugene, would retain his memories, giving him the power to rewrite fate. Ravenna¡¯s gaze snapped back to Herptian. "If all twelve gods agreed to turn back time¡­" she murmured, eyes narrowing. "That means you did too." Herptian¡¯s smile grew, slow and knowing. "But," Ravenna continued, voice growing sharper, "you just said you don¡¯t care about the world¡¯s destruction.There¡¯s nothing in it for you." She took a breath. "So why did you do it?" Ravenna nodded, trying to piece everything together. Herptian¡¯s smirk widened as she tilted her head playfully. "Do you know how Ravenna died in the original timeline?" The question sent a chill down Ravenna¡¯s spine. She searched her fragmented memories, recalling the pivotal chapters where Eugene, the protagonist, outlined the crucial changes he needed to make. Slowly, she exhaled, her voice steady. "Ravenna won the succession race and became the Empress of the Ancorna Empire. But she died at the hands of the Witch of the West." Her lips pressed into a thin line as she continued, "The reason Eugene targeted Ravenna first in the new timeline was to prevent her from becoming Empress. That way, William would take the throne instead." Herptian let out a delighted laugh, pointing two fingers at Ravenna in the shape of a gun and winking. "Bingo." Her playful expression didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes, though. There was something sharp beneath her amusement¡ªresentment. "My Father¡¯s dear disciple killed my favorite apostle," Herptian continued, voice laced with irritation. "And not just killed¡ªerased. That wench destroyed Ravenna¡¯s soul. And for what? She just couldn¡¯t help herself." Ravenna stared at her, finally grasping the sheer absurdity of the perverted goddess¡¯s motives. She doesn¡¯t care about fate, the world, or even the Absolute One. All she cares about is her own indulgence. With a weary sigh, Ravenna ran a hand through her hair. "So, let me get this straight. You agreed to reverse time because Solious promised that Eugene would retain his memories. That meant he¡¯d target Ravenna again and kill her in this timeline first. And when she died, her soul would ascend to Celestia Castle, where you could add her to your harem?" Herptian grinned, pleased with Ravenna¡¯s quick thinking. "Now you¡¯re getting it." She spread her arms in exasperation. "But instead of dying like she was supposed to, some outworlder possessed her body. And worse, you don¡¯t even care to maintain her position as my apostle!" Herptian let out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "My plans always go wrong. Is it really too much to ask for a beautiful souls to warm my bed?" Ravenna narrowed her eyes. "So what you¡¯re saying is¡­ if I don¡¯t fulfill Ravenna¡¯s greatest desire, you¡¯ll revoke my status as your apostle¡ªwhich will kill me?" Herptian¡¯s expression turned cold. "That¡¯s exactly right, Joy Cha Kim." Ravenna stiffened. The goddess¡¯s voice had lost its teasing lilt. "I have exhausted myself trying to claim Ravenna¡¯s soul," Herptian said, her golden eyes burning with irritation. "And now, thanks to you, this timeline has strayed from the vision I originally agreed to. So frankly?" She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Ravenna¡¯s cheek. "I don¡¯t care anymore." She pulled back, flipping a golden strand over her shoulder. "I don¡¯t know when or how you¡¯ll die now. Your death is no longer certain¡ªwhich means Ravenna¡¯s soul is no longer guaranteed to be mine." Ravenna sat there in silence, absorbing the weight of Herptian¡¯s words. Minutes passed. Then, finally, she exhaled. "So if you revoke my status and I die, you won¡¯t get my soul either. But you¡¯re saying you don¡¯t care because it¡¯s already uncertain that you¡¯d get Ravenna¡¯s soul anyway?" Herptian nodded. Ravenna¡¯s fingers curled against the bedsheet as she swallowed. "Then¡­ what will happen to my soul if I die in this body?" A slow, wicked smile stretched across Herptian¡¯s lips. "Nothing much," she purred. "I¡¯ll simply have your soul tortured for eternity in my castle¡¯s dungeon¡­ as punishment for all the trouble you¡¯ve caused me." Ravenna shuddered. "Fine," she blurted. "I¡¯ll try to become the Empress." Herptian¡¯s smile widened, victorious. "But," Ravenna added, steel returning to her voice, "there has to be a deadline. I can¡¯t just magically become the Empress overnight." Herptian tapped her chin, considering, before shrugging. "Five years." Ravenna¡¯s breath hitched. "You have five years," Herptian repeated. "If you can¡¯t claim the throne by then, you are not worthy of being my apostle." Ravenna nodded. "You¡¯ll keep your word, right? Unlike Goddess Solious?" At that, Herptian¡¯s expression darkened. "Don¡¯t compare me to that wench." Her voice dripped with disdain. "I always honor my word." 78. The Imperial Family of Ancorna The first rays of morning sunlight streamed through the massive windows of the imperial bedroom, casting golden hues across the opulent chamber. Ravenna, still wrapped in the soft silk sheets of the royal bed, sat up with a gasp. First thing¡¯s first. [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 61 (7,834 / 9,400 EXP) Current Reputation Points: 47,454 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } She opened the Reputation System, her fingers gliding through the translucent interface hovering in front of her. Without hesitation, she navigated to { Spend Reputation Points } [ Spend Reputation Points ] and quickly tapped into the Internet function. For the hundredth time, she frantically re-read the novel. The familiar words blurred before her eyes, the pages filled with the story she had once devoured for entertainment. But now? Now it wasn¡¯t just a story¡ªit was her damn reality. Slamming the system shut with an aggravated sigh, she fell back onto the bed. "I can¡¯t believe a literal goddess summoned me just to shove me into the main story," she muttered, her voice dripping with frustration. Everything had been going so well. The island she had painstakingly built was thriving. A few more months, and she could have lived the rest of her days in peace¡ªfar from the chaotic power struggles of the imperial court. She had meticulously planned her low-key existence, only stepping into the main story when necessary. But now? "Now, I have to fight for the throne?" Ravenna groaned, dragging her hands down her face. "Of all things, why the hell is that Ravenna¡¯s greatest desire?" She didn¡¯t get an answer, of course. Just the mocking silence of her grand surroundings. A sharp knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. "Your Highness, it¡¯s morning. I will be assisting you in getting ready for breakfast." Ravenna sighed. The voice belonged to one of the palace maids, a woman assigned to serve her in the imperial household. "Come in," she called reluctantly, pushing herself up. The door creaked open as the maid entered, her head respectfully lowered as she moved to prepare Ravenna¡¯s morning routine. Ravenna let out another deep breath. Her original plan had been simple¡ªkeep her head down, lay low, and wait for Serena¡¯s wedding to pass before slipping away. Once the Imperial wedding was over, she could have returned to Jola, and spent the rest of her days in peace. But now? Now, she had no choice. Now, she had to step back into the succession race. Ravenna stood before the grand mirror of her chamber, her gaze trailing over her new attire¡ªa striking departure from the simpler garments she favored in Jola¡¯s heat. She wore a dark, commanding ensemble inspired by the sleek elegance of a raven. Made of rich, black velvet, it hugs the figure with a fitted corset bodice, its neckline a sharp, plunging V that exudes confidence and authority. The corset is adorned with intricate silver embroidery, featuring feather-like patterns that fan out like wings across the chest and waist, catching the light with every movement. The sleeves are long and fitted, made of sheer black fabric dotted with subtle raven feather motifs, tapering into pointed cuffs that resemble sharp talons. The skirt is high-low, with a front slit that reveals sleek, onyx-black boots. The back flows into a short, layered train, each layer edged with delicate silver trim that mimics the sheen of raven feathers. A high, structured collar rises behind her neck, its edges tipped with silver spikes, evoking the image of a raven''s crown. A thin silver belt cinches her waist, its buckle shaped like a raven in mid-flight. The overall look is sharp, sophisticated. Totally different look compared to her attire in Jola. Ravenna stepped into the marble-lined corridor, the soft click of her boots echoing through the palace halls. As she moved forward, a familiar figure rushed toward her. Marie. Her disciple was dressed in a striking ensemble, a perfect counterbalance to Ravenna¡¯s dark elegance. Marie was wearing a very different dress, The base of the dress is a deep, midnight blue, reminiscent of a raven¡¯s iridescent feathers, but it¡¯s accented with striking silver and pops of crimson to symbolize her fiery energy. The fitted bodice is adorned with shimmering silver embroidery in feather-like patterns, but the design is looser and more playful, with asymmetrical lines that give it a dynamic, almost rebellious feel. The neckline is an off-the-shoulder design, revealing a hint of collarbone and adding a touch of youthful charm. The sleeves are short and puffed, edged with silver trim and sheer black fabric that flutters like raven wings when she moves. The skirt is full and flared, ending just above the knees for a more energetic look, with layers of tulle that shimmer in shades of blue and silver. A high slit on one side reveals sleek, silver-lined boots, adding a touch of practicality and edge. "You look beautiful, Marie," she said, a rare warmth in her tone. "The perfect image of my disciple." Marie beamed, clearly pleased by the praise, and fell into step beside Ravenna as they made their way toward the imperial dining hall. As the heavy golden doors to the dining hall swung open, the court announcer¡¯s voice rang out through the chamber. "Her Highness, Princess Ravenna Solarius, and her disciple, Lady Marie." The moment Ravenna stepped inside, she braced herself. The dining table was already filled with her family¡ªeach facing a potential rival in the battle for succession. The air was thick with underlying tension, masked by polite smiles and calculated glances. Dining with the imperial family was never a simple affair. It was a battlefield. 79. Marie鈥檚 First Imperial Breakfast The imperial dining hall was a grand chamber of golden chandeliers, polished marble floors, and towering windows that bathed the long dining table in a soft morning glow. The room¡¯s regal beauty, however, was no match for the cold tension simmering beneath the surface of the conversation. Ravenna casually lifted a teacup to her lips, her expression unreadable as she prepared for the inevitable verbal sparring that came with every family meal. Predictably, it was William who struck first. With a mocking smirk, her older brother sliced a piece of steak with his knife, then spoke, his voice dripping with feigned curiosity. ¡°So, sister, how is life scraping fish or whatever it is you do in the barren, sun-scorched wasteland of Jola?¡± others watched with thinly veiled interest. Ravenna didn¡¯t so much as blink. Instead, she gently set down her tea and leaned back in her chair, her lips curling into a mocking smile. ¡°Ah, quite quaint, actually, thanks to the blessed absence of a certain barking weasel.¡± Ravenna replied. William¡¯s smirk faltered for half a second before he let out a soft chuckle, clearly entertained by her sharp retort. He tilted his head slightly, his fork still in hand. ¡°Is that so? I certainly hope that weasel¡¯s generous donation of thirty mana coins was put to good use. After all, I recall the great Raven coming to beg for it.¡± The veiled insult was clear¡ªhe was reminding everyone at the table of the time Ravenna had sought financial aid before leaving for Jola. But Ravenna? She remained unbothered. Calmly lifting her teacup once more, she took a slow sip, savoring the moment before responding. ¡°Hmmm¡­ That¡¯s strange. I remember it quite differently, dear brother. Wasn¡¯t the weasel the one who so graciously donated those mere thirty mana coins? In the name of Solious?¡± William narrowed his eyes slightly, as a new conversation was unfolding further down the table. Marie sat quietly, absorbing the charged atmosphere around her. She was seated further down, away from the direct verbal crossfire of the imperial contenders, but she was still watching, learning. Beside her sat Gracie Solarius, daughter of Prince Landon Solarius. Unlike the adults, whose positions at the table were dictated by rank, the younger members were seated by age, to ensure they weren¡¯t drawn too deeply into the storm of courtly politics. If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. Still, that didn¡¯t mean they weren¡¯t paying attention. Gracie turned to Marie and studied her with open curiosity before finally speaking. ¡°So, you¡¯re Aunt Ravenna¡¯s disciple?¡± she asked, taking a bite of her toasted bread. Marie straightened slightly, remembering her etiquette lessons, and replied with a polite nod. ¡°Yes, Your Highness Gracie.¡± She didn¡¯t elaborate. She simply continued eating, maintaining her composed demeanor. But just as she thought the questioning would end there, another voice joined in. Sitting next to Gracie was her younger brother, Benric Solarius. He, too, was observing Marie with keen interest. ¡°So, what does Aunt Ravenna have you studying?¡± he asked, swirling his spoon through his porridge. ¡°I imagine she¡¯s not easily satisfied with anything below average... She has quite the temper, to say the least.¡± There was an undeniable wariness in his tone, one Marie recognized immediately. Gracie and Benric weren¡¯t just asking questions out of idle curiosity. They were assessing her. After all, Ravenna¡¯s name carried weight. She was known as the "Unruly Princess," a ruthless, cunning figure in the imperial court¡ªsomeone not to be crossed lightly. And now, Marie was her disciple. What kind of person would the Unruly Princess choose to mentor? Taking a careful breath, Marie placed her utensils down before responding. ¡°I study a range of subjects, Your Highness Benric,¡± she began evenly, ¡°Mathematics, Imperial History, Etiquette, Theology, Administration, and¡­ some combat training.¡± Her answer was not too revealing, yet enough to satisfy polite conversation. Benric raised an eyebrow. ¡°Combat training? Of what kind?¡± At the same time, Gracie tilted her head slightly, her curiosity sharpening. ¡°And why etiquette lessons? At our age, those are usually long mastered, aren¡¯t they?¡± Marie felt her heart skip slightly, but she didn¡¯t let it show. She was keenly aware of the trap hidden within Gracie¡¯s words. A normal noble-born girl would already be fluent in etiquette by now, yet Marie was still studying it daily since she was not a noble but a slave. Marie¡¯s mind worked quickly, finding the best way to deflect without raising suspicion of her non-noble origins. Finally, she gave a small, plain smile and replied, ¡°Ah¡­ I¡¯m afraid I¡¯m a bit unruly, as they say.¡± She glanced briefly toward Ravenna. ¡°Just like Master.¡± Gracie and Benric exchanged a look at her carefully chosen words. It was a clever answer. Instead of making an excuse, Marie had embraced her master¡¯s unruly nature¡ªturning it into her own shield. Benric let out a soft chuckle. Gracie, while still skeptical, seemed satisfied enough for now. Still, Benric wasn¡¯t quite done. ¡°And the combat training?¡± he pressed. Marie took a small sip of her tea, allowing herself a brief moment to compose her next words. ¡°I¡¯ve only just begun,¡± she admitted, ¡°but I¡¯ve been training in long-range weapons¡ªbows and crossbows, to be specific, Your Highness Benric.¡± She set her cup down gently and exhaled slightly. That was enough information. Not too much, not too little. A perfectly polished answer. Benric hummed thoughtfully. Finally, Gracie spoke once more. ¡°Interesting.¡± She then took another bite of her bread, her expression unreadable. But Marie could tell¡ªshe had passed their little test. As the verbal duels between the adults continued at one end of the table, the subtle battle of perception among the younger members had quietly reached its conclusion. Marie, though still new to this world of political games and imperial mind play, had successfully navigated her first challenge. She glanced briefly at Ravenna. Her master was still engaged in a war of words with William, effortlessly parrying insults with wit and poise. Marie felt a small sense of admiration. "One day," she thought, "I¡¯ll have to be just as sharp." 80. Emperor Andrew鈥檚 Intention ¡°So, I hear you¡¯ve taken in a disciple,¡± Prince Nolan remarked, a knowing smile playing on his lips. He carefully sliced a piece of steak with his knife, his tone casual, yet laced with underlying intent. ¡°Strange, though¡ªI¡¯ve never heard of her family name. Are you registering her as a ward? I don¡¯t recall you doing so, sister.¡± Despite his friendly demeanor, his words carried a pointed edge. He was subtly reminding Ravenna that, even though he had been away from the Empire for years, his information network was still very much intact. Ravenna returned his smile, unfazed. ¡°I¡¯ve decided against it for now. Once she turns seventeen, I will adopt her officially.¡± Her response was carefully measured. She knew exactly what Nolan was after¡ªMarie¡¯s origins. If she admitted outright that Marie was not of noble birth, Nolan would undoubtedly use it against her. In truth, Ravenna had already made up her mind about adopting Marie, not just because of her promise to the girl but because of the political implications. The Empire barred commoners from holding administrative positions, but higher positions within the Herptian Faith were still considered under noble jurisdiction. It was the same loophole she was using in Jola to build an independent education system. However, the faith did not permit individuals under the age of seventeen to hold higher-ranking roles. Hence, she had to wait before formally adopting Marie and bestowing upon her a noble title. Prince Landon, seated beside Nolan, tapped his fingers lightly against the table and asked, ¡°Why wait until she turns seventeen?¡± Ravenna smirked, effortlessly slipping into her unruly persona. ¡°Because I have no interest in wasting time on unworthy little ladies,¡± she replied with deliberate crudeness. Landon exhaled sharply, clearly taken aback by her bluntness. He had pushed for an answer but was met with a wall of deflection. Across the table, Emperor Andrew remained silent, his expression unreadable. His sharp gaze flitted across his children as he listened intently, though he had yet to make any remarks since breakfast had begun. Ravenna took another bite of her meal, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. So, he¡¯s merely observing for now. In the previous timeline, she had never been invited to this gathering¡ªshe had been ¡°kidnapped¡± before such an event could take place. However, in this life, she was here, and she knew the Emperor¡¯s reasoning had not changed. In the original novel, Emperor Andrew had personally summoned all of his children and key ministers to the capital for Serena¡¯s wedding¡ªbefore Serena herself even sent word of it. The reason was simple: the imperial court had become a battlefield of political factions, and his once-reliable sources of information had been compromised. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. Ministers aligned with different contenders for the throne had begun intercepting and distorting intelligence reports, feeding the Emperor either misleading details or outright lies. Even Minister Frank Eldric, the Emperor¡¯s closest ally and right-hand man, had subtly begun omitting certain details about his children¡ªprotecting Prince Landon¡¯s movements. Though initially neutral, Eldric had slowly drifted toward Landon¡¯s faction, largely due to his daughter''s marriage to him. By summoning his children to the capital, Emperor Andrew sought to personally assess their loyalties and determine their fates. ¡°But,¡± Ravenna thought as she sipped her tea, ¡°nothing ever goes as he plans.¡± Finally, the Emperor spoke, his deep voice cutting through the air like a blade. ¡°I am aware that I called all of you here earlier than necessary,¡± he said, setting his utensils down. ¡°Serena will be arriving in a week with her fianc¨¦, and the wedding will take place in the Imperial Solious Church shortly after. I trust none of you will find it too inconvenient to remain in the capital for another week?¡± Prince Nolan, ever the diplomatic son, responded immediately. ¡°Of course, Father. I would never miss my sister¡¯s wedding.¡± Beside him, his wife, Princess Frederica, offered a warm smile and added, ¡°I would also love to spend more time in the capital.¡± Landon gave a small nod of acknowledgment, while his wife, Maria, replied gracefully, ¡°It is our pleasure, Your Majesty.¡± William, disinterested as ever, merely grunted as he continued to eat. Ravenna, however, leaned back slightly, her lips curling into a smirk. ¡°Sure,¡± she said with casual indifference. ¡°I¡¯ll wait for that good-for-nothing to arrive.¡± The Emperor chuckled softly at her remark, though there was a glint of amusement in his usually stern eyes. To the others at the table, it might have seemed as though the Emperor was looking forward to the wedding¡ªa final event to solidify alliances and begin weeding out the unreliable figures within the court. But Ravenna knew better. She had read the novel. The wedding would not be a joyous celebration. Instead, it would be a disaster¡ªattacked by a horde of magical beasts, turning the ceremony into a bloodbath. And in the chaos, one man would seize the moment to elevate his standing: Prince William. Ravenna gripped her fork tightly, her expression unreadable as she took another bite of her meal. ¡°I need to change that.¡± If she was going to fulfill her deal with the Herptian to survive¡ªshe could not afford to let William seize the moment unchallenged. In the original novel, Prince William and Eugene had taken charge during the beast attack, rallying the capital¡¯s forces and leading the counteroffensive. Their valor and leadership had not gone unnoticed¡ªthey had saved the Empire¡¯s most powerful noble families from utter destruction. By the time the battle ended, the nobles practically worshiped them. The favor William had earned was so immense that Emperor Andrew, despite his earlier hesitations, had been forced to name him Crown Prince. Ravenna exhaled slowly, her eyes flickering toward William, who was still lazily chewing his food, completely unaware of her silent calculations. "I¡¯m not even in the succession line, thanks to my exile," she thought bitterly. Her banishment had stripped her of any claim to the throne. Her name had been all but erased from the Empire¡¯s line of succession, leaving her with nothing but a tarnished reputation. But this event¡ªthis wedding-turned-catastrophe¡ªwas an opportunity. A chance to rewrite the script. A chance to steal the moment for herself. ¡°If William used this crisis to rise¡­ then I will use it to return.¡± 81.Plan to return to the Succession Race Ravenna let out a long, exhausted sigh as she collapsed onto her bed, sinking into the plush mattress. For the first time in what felt like forever, she was alone, away from the suffocating atmosphere of people. The past twelve hours had been nothing short of hellish. First, she had barely closed her eyes before being dragged into a meeting with a goddess¡ªa divine being who had threatened her very existence unless she accepted the role of an Apostle. Without it, she would die. Then came the deal she struck. A deal that had completely derailed her original plan of staying far from the main story, living a quiet, peaceful life in the safety of her Jola Dukedom. Instead, she now had to become the Empress within the next five years. All of this, before sunrise. And then, as if fate itself was mocking her, she had been forced to endure breakfast with her infuriating imperial family¡ªa constant game of veiled insults, political maneuvering, and backhanded remarks. Only now did she finally have a moment to breathe. Still sprawled across the bed, Ravenna lazily lifted her hand and summoned her System Interface. The familiar blue window flickered into view. [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 61 (7,834 / 9,400 EXP) Current Reputation Points: 47,454 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } She tapped on { Spend Reputation Points } and scrolled through the available options. [ Spend Reputation Points ] Without hesitation, she spent 100 points and accessed the internet. She reread the novel. Ravenna already knew what was coming. The wedding would not be a celebration but a massacre. Hundreds of thousands would die, torn apart by a horde of magical beasts that would descend upon the capital. But she couldn¡¯t stop it. Not yet. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. In the original novel, Prince William and Eugene had saved the capital, leading the charge against the beasts and rallying the empire¡¯s forces. Their heroic deeds had cemented their reputations, earning them overwhelming support from the nobility and military alike. Emperor Andrew had no choice but to acknowledge them¡ªnaming William as the Crown Prince. Ravenna refused to let history repeat itself. She wasn¡¯t even in the succession race anymore thanks to her exile, but this event, this tragedy was an opportunity. A chance to reclaim her place and take back her power. ¡°The issue is¡­¡± Ravenna muttered, scrolling through the novel¡¯s contents. She knew that the attack was orchestrated by the Hericules Crime Syndicate. They had smuggled magical beasts into the capital, hiding them in multiple secret locations before unleashing them all at once on the wedding day. But the novel had never mentioned exactly where those hideouts were. She had a week until the wedding. A week to find several hidden underground lairs in a city as large as any metropolis in her past life. ¡°It¡¯s impossible to search every corner of the capital,¡± she whispered, frustration creeping into her voice. Even if she did find the hideouts in advance, she couldn¡¯t destroy them outright. If she prevented the attack entirely, the severity of the threat would never sink in for the Emperor or the nobles. They wouldn¡¯t grasp the true danger¡ªand if they didn¡¯t, she would lose her chance to use the event to return to the succession race. But¡­ Ravenna¡¯s grip on her bedsheets tightened. She might have been acting as the minor villainess Ravenna Solarius, but in the end¡­ She wasn¡¯t truly her. Even if the original Ravenna¡¯s emotions and personality were bleeding into her own, she was still Joy Cha Kimdeep down. And she couldn¡¯t let thousands of innocents¡ªchildren, families, commoners with no stake in the imperial war¡ªdie just so she could rise in power. Ravenna¡¯s fingers absently twisted a lock of her long, jet-black hair as she stared at the glowing interface before her. The weight of the situation pressed heavily on her shoulders. She had already made her decision¡ªshe wouldn¡¯t let thousands of innocents die just to gain political leverage. But stopping the attack before it happened would mean forfeiting her only chance to rise back into the imperial succession. ¡°There has to be another way,¡± she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. Her gaze flickered back to the Reputation System window, scanning her available options. ¡°I could use a Geographical Scan to locate the hideouts, but¡­¡± Her brow furrowed in thought. ¡°Then what? I barely have fifty knights under my command.¡± Even if she located the syndicate¡¯s underground bases, she didn¡¯t have the manpower to storm them. And even if she did, taking action before the attack would mean that the Imperial Knights and ultimately, the Emperor would take credit for stopping the crisis. That wouldn¡¯t do. The event needed to happen¡ªjust controlled enough for her to step in as the hero before William and Eugene could seize the moment. Her fingers hovered over the Geographical Scan option. ¡°First, let¡¯s find the hideouts,¡± she muttered, selecting a scan radius of 650 kilometers¡ªenough to cover the entirety of the capital. [ Geographical Scan Initiated ] 650 km scanned. -3,250 Reputation Points deducted. Remaining Reputation Points: 44,204 A detailed map of the capital materialized in front of her, dotted with bright red markers¡ªeach one indicating an unusually high density of magical beasts hidden underground. ¡°There they are.¡± Ravenna¡¯s eyes traced the locations carefully. Four hideouts. All of them were positioned alarmingly close to the Imperial Palace¡ªensuring maximum devastation once the beasts were unleashed. ¡°This is bad¡­ but also an opportunity,¡± she muttered, walking to the large map of the capital pinned against her wall. With a quill, she circled the four locations, marking them down. She had found the hideouts. Now she needed a plan. ¡°I could hire mercenaries to set up traps in advance¡­ and when the attack starts, they¡¯ll spring into action.¡± It made sense. A preemptive strike before the beasts could rampage unchecked. But then a sinking thought hit her. ¡°Can a bunch of mercenaries really handle hundreds of magical beasts?¡± The answer was obvious¡ªno. Magical beasts weren¡¯t ordinary creatures. Many of them required elite knights or mages to subdue. Even if she hired hundreds of mercenaries, they would crumble under the sheer might of the creatures waiting in the dark. Ravenna exhaled sharply and pressed a hand to her forehead. She wasn¡¯t a military strategist. She had no experience in warfare, no knowledge of battle formations or tactical maneuvers. Even during the battle against Ronin¡¯s knights, she had relied entirely on the expertise of Hughes and John to direct her forces. She couldn¡¯t afford to make a reckless decision now. ¡°What I need¡­ is a second opinion.¡± Her mind raced through the list of people she could turn to. ¡°Who can I consult?¡± she muttered, biting her lip. 82. Important Guest The sun shone brightly over the imperial palace, casting a golden glow on the courtyard where two maids stood, chatting as they collected dried linens from the clothesline. "Are you really going to the West Wing?" one of the maids asked hesitantly, her voice laced with concern. The other, a young woman with dark eyes and grayish-blue hair that shimmered under the sunlight, nodded as she folded a sheet into the basket. "I don¡¯t have a choice. They¡¯ve assigned me to serve Her Highness Ravenna." The first maid frowned. "But why? She brought over a hundred maids with her when she left for Jola, didn¡¯t she? Why didn¡¯t she bring them back with her?" "Who knows?" the gray-haired maid sighed, lifting the heavy basket of linens. "I used to work in the West Wing before she was exiled. When she left, I was transferred here, but now that she''s temporarily back, I¡¯m expected to return as well." The other maid shuddered. "I heard she was ruthless. The other maids said she had them whipped for the smallest mistakes. I remember when the news spread that she was gone¡ªeveryone who served under her celebrated." The gray-haired maid hesitated for a moment before responding. "She was strict, yes, but¡­" she trailed off, adjusting the basket in her arms. "I survived three years of serving her. What¡¯s another week?" The other maid¡¯s eyes gleamed mischievously as she leaned in and bumped her friend¡¯s shoulder. "Oh? Is that all? Or could it be that someone special is back with her as well?" The gray-haired maid, Katrina, turned red instantly. "W-What are you talking about?" The other maid smirked. "Oh, come on. Don¡¯t play dumb! That handsome knight, Ser John, returned with her, didn¡¯t he?" Just as she teased her, a familiar voice echoed through the corridor behind them. "Katrina!" The gray-haired maid stiffened, her heart skipping a beat. She knew that voice. She spun around so fast that the linens in her basket nearly tumbled out. "Ser John¡­?!" There he stood, Ser John, walking toward them with a small, uncertain smile. His armor gleamed under the palace lights, and his dark, wavy hair framed his sharp features. Katrina blinked, still in disbelief. "What¡­? What are you doing here, Ser John? Shouldn¡¯t you be with Her Highness?" John stopped a few steps away, rubbing the back of his neck. "I¡­ I just wanted to see you." Katrina¡¯s grip tightened around the basket. "You¡ª?" "I heard from the head maid that you were here, helping with the laundry," John continued, stepping closer. "So, I took a short break to visit." Katrina¡¯s lips parted, but before she could say anything, the other maid giggled and quickly grabbed the basket from her arms. "I¡¯ll take these back inside. You two have a lot to talk about." This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. "Wait, I¡ª" Katrina started to protest, but her friend was already gone, leaving her standing alone with John in the sunlit corridor. An awkward silence settled between them. John finally cleared his throat. "Shall we take a walk in the sun?" Katrina hesitated for a moment before nodding. The two walked side by side through the palace courtyard, the warm rays of the afternoon sun making Katrina¡¯s grayish-blue hair shimmer. She kept her gaze ahead, her heart pounding. "Ser John¡­" she began hesitantly. Before she could finish, John turned to her and cut her off with a single sentence. "I missed you, Katrina." Her steps faltered. She looked up at him, her face quickly turning red. "D-Don¡¯t say that¡­!" she stammered. "I might fall for you again!" John smiled, though there was regret in his eyes. "You left without saying a word," Katrina continued, voice shaking slightly. "I told you¡ªI didn¡¯t care about hardship. I would have followed you to Jola if you had just asked! But instead, you¡ª" "I apologize," John interrupted, his voice soft but firm. Katrina clenched her fists. John stepped in front of her, gently taking her hands in his own. "Please¡­ forgive me," he said, looking into her eyes. "When we left for Jola, I didn¡¯t know what the future held. I was afraid of dragging you into an uncertain life, so I thought it was better to cut ties rather than make promises I couldn¡¯t keep." Katrina bit her lip. "But now¡­?" "Now," John said, tightening his grip on her hands, "I will talk to your parents." Katrina¡¯s breath caught in her throat. "You¡­ you mean¡ª?" John nodded. "I will ask for your hand in marriage." Her face turned so red that she looked like she might burst. "You¡­ You¡¯re lying!" she accused. John chuckled. "Just like I promised you last summer at the Sun Festival¡­ I will keep my word this time." Katrina¡¯s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. John reached out, his calloused fingers brushing gently against her cheek. "And¡­ to make up for leaving without a word for an entire year, after the wedding, I am your servant, my lady." Katrina swung her fist lightly against his chest. "You moron¡­!" Her voice trembled as she looked at him with frustration and relief. "Why did you make me wait so long?" John pulled her into a tight embrace. For the first time in a year, Katrina let herself believe in the future she had once dreamed of. After lingering in the courtyard, exchanging whispered words and quiet laughter, the two finally parted ways. John walked towards the exit, his heart lighter than it had been in a long time. But just as he neared the entrance, a familiar figure came walking toward him from the opposite direction. The man¡¯s sharp gaze landed on him, and a voice¡ªrefined yet carrying an air of authority, rang out. "Ah, is that Ser John?" John immediately straightened and inclined his head in a respectful bow. "Duke Kevin Morgen." The duke, a tall man in his late forties with neatly combed gray hair and a presence that commanded attention, gave a satisfied nod. His dark blue cloak, embroidered with silver insignias of House Morgen, swayed slightly as he walked. "This saves me the trouble of sending a formal request," Duke Kevin said with a smirk. "I just arrived in the capital and was on my way to the administration department to request an audience with Her Highness Ravenna. But it seems that won''t be necessary anymore." John immediately understood what he needed to do. John gave a polite smile. "I will inform Her Highness at once, Your Grace." Duke Kevin nodded in approval. "Good. Then let us not waste time." With that, John turned sharply on his heel and made his way toward Ravenna¡¯s chambers, his pace quickening. Inside the grand chamber of the West Wing, Ravenna stood by her table, overlooking the capital¡¯s map. She couldn''t afford to make a reckless decision now. "What I need¡­ is a second opinion." Her mind raced through the list of people she could turn to. "Who can I consult?" she murmured, biting her lower lip in frustration. Just then, a knock echoed through the room, pulling her out of her thoughts. "Your Highness," came John¡¯s voice from the other side of the door. "An important guest requests an audience." 83. Ravenna鈥檚 Imperial Faction "Your Highness," John¡¯s voice came from the other side of the heavy wooden door. "An important guest requests an audience." Ravenna, who had been lost in thought, rubbed her temples. The morning had barely begun, and yet she already had matters to deal with. She let out a slow breath before responding. "Come in." The door creaked open, and John stepped inside, bowing respectfully. "Your Highness." Ravenna turned to face him, her piercing gaze locking onto his. "You¡¯ve come at the right time, John. I needed your counsel on a matter that falls within your expertise." John hesitated for a brief moment before shaking his head. "I¡¯m sorry, Your Highness, but we have an urgent matter. A guest is requesting an audience first." Ravenna¡¯s expression shifted into a scowl. She had too much on her plate to be dealing with unannounced visitors. Crossing her arms, she arched an eyebrow. "Oh? And who in the world is troubling me so early in the morning?" John lifted his head, meeting her gaze. "Duke Kevin Morgen has requested a meeting with you, Your Highness." Ravenna¡¯s eyes widened slightly, and she straightened up. "Uncle?" she muttered under her breath, momentarily taken aback. She hadn¡¯t expected him¡ªnot at all. She quickly masked her surprise and regained her composure. "Why is he here?" she mused in her mind before shaking her head. "Never mind. Tell him I will see him in a few minutes." John gave a sharp nod. "Understood." He bowed once more before swiftly exiting the room to deliver the message. The moment the door shut behind John, Ravenna¡¯s fingers curled into a loose fist as she paced across the room. Duke Kevin Morgen shouldn¡¯t be here. In the original novel, none of the vassal state nobles were invited to the capital for the imperial wedding. The empire had grown complacent in its rule over the vassal states region, outright dismissing the concerns of its vassal states. This blatant disregard had only fueled anti-imperial sentiment, something Prince Landon later capitalized on when he rebelled against Crown Prince William. But now, Duke Morgen is in the capital. Ravenna frowned. This was a serious deviation from the original plot. And it wasn¡¯t just that. If she remembered correctly, Duke Kevin Morgen was supposed to stay in his territory and focus on matters concerning the Eight-Floor Dungeon in the Morgen Duchy. William tries to take control of the dungeon¡¯s management, to strip Duke Morgen of direct authority over it but Duke Morgen refused and had to deal with William¡¯s representatives trying to take over the dungeon in the Estra Kingdom¡¯s official court. Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon. Duke Morgen never attended the wedding. He remained in Morgen Duchy, unaware of the imperial schemes at play. And, in the original storyline, he died. He was supposed to fall when the Conley Empire launched a surprise invasion in his territory during the wedding in the capital. Ravenna gritted her teeth. That event was a major turning point in the novel. Duke Kevin¡¯s death led to his daughter, Aria Morgen, inheriting the title of Duchess. In her grief, she swore loyalty to Crown Prince William, pledging to aid him in his war against the Conley Empire in exchange for revenge. But now? Now, Duke Morgen was here. Far from his territory. Which meant¡ª His death was no longer a certainty. And if he didn¡¯t die, the entire political landscape of the empire would shift. Ravenna exhaled slowly, her mind racing with possibilities. The domino effect of this single change could be catastrophic¡ªor an opportunity. ¡°The story has totally derailed,¡± she muttered under her breath She inhaled deeply, forcing herself to steady her racing thoughts. "Let''s not panic. Think positively," she murmured, absently biting her thumbnail. Yes, this was unexpected, but unexpected didn¡¯t necessarily mean disastrous. Duke Kevin Morgen wasn¡¯t just any noble. He was her maternal uncle, the younger brother of the late Empress and one of the few steadfast supporters of Ravenna¡¯s right to the throne. If he had traveled all the way to the capital, then it wasn¡¯t for a casual visit. He had come for her. That meant only one thing¡ª He was here to discuss the future of her faction. if Duke Kevin Morgen still supported her¡­ If he was still willing to stand by her claim, then she wasn¡¯t out of the race yet and she might also be able to use him in her scheme against the coming Magical Beast attack. Her fingers curled against the polished wood of the table. In the novel, Duke Morgen had died before he could ever take action. His premature death had sealed the fate of his duchy, leading to his daughter''s desperate plea for protection under Crown Prince William. But now he is alive. If she could ensure his survival, he could become one of her greatest assets. A Few Minutes Later ¨C Audience Room, Ravenna¡¯s Chambers, Imperial Palace The scent of freshly brewed tea drifted through the air, mingling with the rich aroma of polished wood and parchment. Sunlight streamed through the grand windows, casting golden hues across the ornately carved furniture. Seated across from Ravenna, Duke Kevin Morgen exuded the quiet confidence of a man who had weathered countless storms. his piercing blue eyes, so reminiscent of the late empress, held a calculating glint. He took a leisurely sip of tea, studying Ravenna over the rim of his cup. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you doing well despite all the chaos that unfolded last year, Your Highness,¡± he finally said, setting the cup down with a soft clink. Ravenna met his gaze with a cool, composed expression. ¡°It¡¯s good to see you as well, Uncle. I heard the past few months haven¡¯t been easy for you either.¡± Duke Morgen let out a wry chuckle, leaning back in his seat. ¡°That¡¯s an understatement. The eight-floor dungeon caused more trouble than I care to recount. But it¡¯s been dealt with.¡± He tilted his head slightly, his expression shifting from casual to intent. ¡°Now then, Your Highness, I didn¡¯t come all this way just to exchange pleasantries.¡± His eyes sharpened, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. ¡°I went through considerable effort to secure an invitation to the wedding. So let¡¯s get straight to it, shall we?¡± He placed his hands on the armrests of his chair and leaned forward slightly. ¡°What¡¯s your plan? How do you intend to return to the succession race?¡± Ravenna let out a small chuckle, unhurried as she swirled the tea in her cup before taking a slow sip. The warmth spread through her, but her mind remained as sharp as ever. ¡°So I take it that our faction is still intact?¡± she asked, a knowing glint in her deep black eyes. 84. Magical Beast Attack Plan Ravenna¡¯s Imperial Faction had once been a formidable force, filled with influential nobles and powerful allies who placed her leagues ahead of the other contenders for the throne. In the original timeline, it was this very advantage that had led her to ascend as Empress, crushing all opposition in her path. However, after his regression, Eugene had set his sights on her first and foremost. He understood that if Ravenna remained in the race, William would never take the throne. That was why he had orchestrated her downfall, ensuring her exile and dismantling her influence before she could consolidate her power. Duke Morgen sighed, setting his teacup down. ¡°Most of the nobles who once stood by you have already pledged their loyalty to either Landon or William after your exile.¡± His tone was measured, but there was an unmistakable hint of disappointment in his voice. ¡°Many saw no benefit in standing by an exiled princess.¡± Ravenna leaned back in her chair, her fingers tapping lightly against the armrest. ¡°That was to be expected.¡± She had never been naive enough to believe that loyalty in the imperial court was absolute. Nobles followed power, not sentiment. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t mean they can¡¯t be persuaded back.¡± Morgen nodded slightly, conceding the point. ¡°True, but there are still a handful of nobles who remain loyal to you.¡±His gaze sharpened. ¡°We will need to gather them and fortify our position before we make any significant moves.¡± Ravenna, however, had other priorities. She straightened, her dark black eyes gleaming with determination. ¡°We will deal with that in due time, Uncle. But there¡¯s something far more urgent we need to discuss first.¡± Duke Morgen raised a brow, intrigued. ¡°Oh?¡± Outside Garden, William¡¯s Chambers, Southern Wing, Imperial Palace The afternoon sun cast golden streaks over the palace gardens, its light reflecting off the delicate porcelain teacups placed between two men. William, dressed in an embroidered dark blue tunic, leaned forward, his expression laced with suspicion. Across from him, Eugene sat calmly, though the tension in his gaze was unmistakable. ¡°I can¡¯t shake this feeling,¡± William muttered, swirling his tea absentmindedly. His sharp eyes flickered with unease. ¡°She¡¯s up to something.¡± Eugene exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping against the table in thought. ¡°Duke Morgen couldn¡¯t have known that her Highness Ravenna would be here. Even we were unaware that His Imperial Majesty would extend an invitation to her.¡± William scoffed, setting his teacup down with a sharp clink. ¡°Then why in the world did Uncle go through such trouble to get an invitation himself?¡± His voice grew more agitated. ¡°He willingly gave up the dungeon rights for a mere wedding invitation. That¡¯s not something he would do without a deeper motive.¡± Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Eugene¡¯s gaze darkened. ¡°You suspect he planned this from the start?¡± ¡°Of course he did.¡± William¡¯s jaw tightened. ¡°He¡¯s using this opportunity to reconnect with Ravenna. If they manage to revive their faction, our entire plan will be in jeopardy.¡± The air between them grew heavy with unspoken tension. Eugene clenched his fists. He had spent considerable time orchestrating Ravenna¡¯s downfall, ensuring her exile so that William could ascend unchallenged. Yet now, she was back in the Imperial Palace, and despite his careful calculations, he couldn¡¯t predict her next move. Eugene forced a smirk, though his eyes were cold. ¡°Whatever she¡¯s planning, I won¡¯t let it succeed. You focus on the goal, Your Highness.¡± William gave a curt nod. ¡°Yeah, yeah. I know.¡± His gaze flickered toward the towering palace walls in the distance. ¡°We¡¯ve just begun experimenting on the Abomination. If all goes well, we¡¯ll have results soon enough.¡± Just then, a shadow fell over them. A messenger approached, bowing respectfully before whispering something into William¡¯s ear. William¡¯s expression immediately darkened. He turned to Eugene, his lips curling into a grimace. ¡°I was right.¡± Eugene narrowed his eyes. ¡°What is it?¡± William leaned back, a smug yet dangerous glint in his gaze. ¡°Uncle is in a private meeting with Ravenna in the West Wing. Right now.¡± Eugene¡¯s fingers tightened around his teacup, his mind racing. A Hidden Underground Warehouse Near the Imperial Palace Beneath the grand, bustling streets of the imperial capital, deep within a labyrinth of forgotten tunnels, lay a massive underground warehouse. The air was thick with the stench of damp stone, blood, and rotting meat. Towering metal cages, each twice the size of a man, were stacked in long rows, forming a nightmarish prison. Within them, monstrous magical beasts snarled and howled, their glowing eyes filled with rage and hunger. Some clawed relentlessly at their enclosures, while others growled in low, guttural tones, sensing the unnatural energy in the air. The dimly lit chamber flickered with an eerie glow as torches pulsed with faint orange light. Two cloaked figures moved methodically through the warehouse, their boots barely making a sound against the stone. Hooded and shrouded in secrecy, they carried sacks of raw meat, tossing chunks into the cages. The beasts lunged at their meager meals, the sounds of snapping jaws and tearing flesh echoing through the cavernous space. After completing their rounds, the two figures gathered at the center of the chamber, speaking in hushed tones. ¡°It¡¯s in a week, right?¡± the first hooded man asked, his voice gruff and impatient. He kicked a stray bone aside as he sighed. ¡°It¡¯s getting harder to feed these things ever since Prince William dismantled the underground black market. Supplies are running low.¡± The second figure, slightly taller, let out a low chuckle. ¡°Don¡¯t worry,¡± he said in a calm, almost amused tone. ¡°You won¡¯t have to worry about feeding them much longer. Word from the higher-ups is that Princess Serena¡¯s ship has just docked at one of the empire¡¯s ports. The time for release is near.¡± The first man¡¯s lips curled into a smirk beneath his hood. ¡°Hah. Finally, Hopefully, the Emperor himself gets torn apart in the chaos.¡± He let out a sinister chuckle, already picturing the bloodshed that would soon unfold. The second man, however, remained composed. ¡°Unlikely,¡± he said, crossing his arms. ¡°The Emperor is a tough one, but it doesn¡¯t matter. The real objective of this attack will be completed. That¡¯s all that matters.¡± For a moment, silence filled the chamber, save for the restless growls of the imprisoned creatures. Then, without another word, the two figures turned and vanished into the darkness, each disappearing through separate exits. 85. Duke Morgen鈥檚 Assistance Duke Morgen leaned back in his chair, his sharp gaze fixed on Ravenna. The sunlight casting shifting shadows across the ornately furnished chamber. His expression remained unreadable as he finally spoke. "Hmm¡­ so you have intel that the wedding will be attacked, with the primary targets being the high-ranking nobles attending the ceremony," he mused, swirling the tea in his cup. "And you intend to use this event as an opportunity to re-enter the succession race." Ravenna nodded, her fingers drumming lightly on the polished wooden table between them. Duke Morgen exhaled slowly, setting down his cup. "It does seem like the perfect chance, but¡­" He trailed off, tapping his fingers against the armrest. "I need more details. Who are the perpetrators? What kind of attack are we dealing with? I can¡¯t act on mere fragments of information, Your Highness." Ravenna let out a quiet sigh, mentally weighing her options. She hesitated, but only briefly. Among all the people in the empire, Duke Morgen was one of the few who had remained unwaveringly loyal¡ªnot out of personal gain, but because of the promise he had made to Ravenna¡¯s mother, the late Empress. Even so, trust was a dangerous thing. She couldn¡¯t reveal everything. If she wanted to keep events at least somewhat aligned with the original timeline from the novel, she had to be careful with what she shared. "I don¡¯t know the exact identity of the perpetrators," Ravenna said smoothly, keeping her voice steady as she lied. "But I do know what their plan entails." Duke Morgen narrowed his eyes, listening intently. "They have hundreds of caged magical beasts hidden throughout the capital," she continued. "On the day of the wedding, they plan to release them all at once, turning the city into a bloodbath." For the first time in their conversation, Duke Morgen¡¯s composed demeanor cracked. His eyes widened in disbelief. "That¡¯s an absurdly reckless method," he muttered, shaking his head. "If their goal is simply to eliminate a few high-ranking nobles, a group of trained assassins or even a handful of expendable slaves would have sufficed since they know the location of the wedding. This? This will throw the entire capital into chaos. Innocent civilians will be slaughtered." Ravenna nodded grimly. "Exactly, Uncle. And that¡¯s why I need your help." She leaned forward, her voice firm. "I can¡¯t let this opportunity slip away, but at the same time, I refuse to allow the Imperial Palace to take credit for stopping the attack. And more importantly, I won¡¯t let the citizens of the capital suffer needlessly." Duke Morgen was caught off guard by her last statement. The Ravenna he had known in the past would never have concerned herself with the safety of the common people. Just as that thought crossed his mind, Ravenna smirked and added with a casual wave of her hand, Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. "I will be Empress one day, Uncle. Everything in this empire will belong to me. How can I allow my own property to be damaged?" Duke Morgen let out a heavy sigh, a small chuckle escaping him. "There she is," he muttered. "That sounds more like the Ravenna I know." Still, he studied her carefully. "You also don¡¯t want to simply prevent the attack and report it after the fact, because that would lessen the danger the nobles experience," he said shrewdly. "You want them to feel the threat, to realize their own vulnerability¡ªso that when you emerge as their savior, they¡¯ll rally behind you." Ravenna¡¯s smirk deepened. "Precisely, Uncle." Duke Morgen rubbed his chin, sinking into thought. Unlike what she had told him, Ravenna did know exactly who was behind the attack. The Hercule Crime Syndicate. Their goal wasn¡¯t just to eliminate a few nobles; this attack was part of a much larger scheme to destabilize the Ancorna Empire itself. Of course, she would deal with the broader conspiracy in due time. For now, her priority was controlling this specific event to her advantage. After a moment, Duke Morgen looked up. "You said there are hundreds of magical beasts hidden in the capital. Do you know which direction the attack will come from?" Ravenna clapped her hands, and within seconds, a maid entered the room carrying a large, detailed map of the imperial capital. She carefully unrolled it onto the table. Ravenna pointed at four marked locations near the Imperial Palace. "These," she said, tapping each point, "are the underground storage sites where the magical beasts are being kept." After a long pause, he finally spoke. "We can use expendable slaves to our advantage," he said, tapping his finger against the four regions where the magical beasts were being kept. "If we spread rumors that these areas have been infested with slaves carrying Hilon Pox, the Imperial Guard will prioritize evacuating the surrounding civilians." He leaned back, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Once the beasts are released, their primal instincts will drive them toward the nearest sources of human presence. With the citizens already removed from the vicinity, the only place left teeming with people will be¡ª" "The Imperial Palace," Ravenna finished, her mind already racing ahead. Duke Morgen nodded. "Exactly. We¡¯ll station my knights and yours at key defensive positions¡ªeast, west, and north of the palace¡ªto intercept the beasts from those directions. But the southern region?" He dragged his finger along the map, stopping at the large, ornate depiction of the palace grounds. "We leave it completely unguarded." Ravenna¡¯s eyes narrowed as she followed his logic. "That way, the beasts will naturally be funneled toward the wedding venue, entering through the southern gate." "Precisely." Duke Morgen¡¯s voice held a note of satisfaction. "Once the beasts breach the venue and get dangerously close to the high-ranking nobles, that¡¯s when we make our move. You and I will take command, cutting down the creatures and leading the nobles to safety through the eastern, western, and northern wings of the palace." Ravenna tapped her chin thoughtfully. "And by that time, the Imperial Knights, the Imperial Mage Tower, and the Imperial Guard will be mobilized. They¡¯ll be the ones to finish off the remaining beasts, allowing us to recall our forces before they get caught up in the battle." Duke Morgen inclined his head. "With minimal manpower, we will appear as the first line of defense¡ªthe heroes of the night. And when the dust settles, the stronger imperial forces will swoop in to clean up the rest, ensuring we walk away with the recognition while taking minimal losses." It was a sound plan¡ªon the surface, at least. But Ravenna frowned. A jarring flaw. She folded her arms, her gaze darkening. "There¡¯s a problem." 86. Stirring Up The Pot It was a sound plan¡ªon the surface, at least. But Ravenna frowned. A jarring flaw. She folded her arms, her gaze darkening. "There¡¯s a problem." She folded her arms, her gaze darkening. "In Fact, There are multiple flaws in this strategy," she stated, her voice sharp with certainty. "First, the evacuation process will be slow, and more importantly, my father and siblings will undoubtedly take notice of it." Duke Morgen exhaled, rubbing his chin as he considered her point. "That¡¯s true. If we suddenly start evacuating civilians from key areas too close to the wedding, it¡¯ll raise suspicion." He paused, then nodded as a solution formed in his mind. "We need to spread the misinformation early¡ªat dawn. If the attack is scheduled for noon, then by that time, the regions will already be mostly emptied. That way, the process will appear natural rather than forced." Ravenna tapped her fingers on the table, deep in thought. "But would the Imperial Knights react fast enough? They don¡¯t act on mere rumors." Duke Morgen smirked, his confidence unwavering. "I have some connections in the Eastern Continental Medical Society Association. If they issue a warning about an outbreak of Hilon Pox, the Imperial Knights will have no choice but to respond immediately." Ravenna gave a slow nod of approval. "That would take care of the first issue, then. But the second one¡­" Her gaze met Duke Morgen¡¯s. "Defending the high-ranking nobles," he answered, already anticipating her concern. Ravenna leaned back slightly, considering the logistics. She wasn¡¯t completely incompetent in combat¡ªfar from it. She had trained extensively in dagger combat, her fighting style built around agility and precise, rapid eliminations. Unlike her siblings, who excelled in battlefield warfare, her skill set was designed for self-defense, and swift encounters rather than prolonged engagements. She didn¡¯t wear armor in combat either. The added weight slowed her down, rendering her natural speed and reflexes ineffective. That choice made her lethal in one-on-one fights but significantly disadvantaged against a swarm of magical beasts. Compared to her siblings William, Landon, and Serena her battle achievements were modest at best. William was a strategic genius and a master swordsman. Landon possessed brute strength that made him nearly unstoppable in direct combat. Serena, despite her noble upbringing, was a prodigy in magic flower formulas. Against them, Ravenna¡¯s combat prowess was nothing extraordinary. Duke Morgen seemed to be thinking the same thing. He exhaled, shaking his head. "Your fighting style will be an issue. Taking down one or two beasts is likely your limit, and that simply won¡¯t be enough." Ravenna tapped the hilt of the dagger at her hip, a sly smirk forming on her lips. "Don¡¯t worry, Uncle. I already have a plan." Duke Morgen raised an eyebrow. "A plan?" She nodded, her expression filled with quiet determination. "We will proceed with the scheme as planned, but on the wedding day, I will ensure I am not the one doing most of the heavy lifting." A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation. Duke Morgen¡¯s curiosity deepened. "And how exactly do you intend to do that?" Ravenna¡¯s smirk widened as she leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "By making sure someone else handles the fighting for me." Practice Grounds, West Wing, Imperial Palace The midday sun cast sharp rays over the vast training grounds, its golden light reflecting off the polished Iron of weapons and armor in the armory. Thud! An arrow buried itself into the bullseye. Thud! Thud! Thud! Three more followed in rapid succession, striking their marks with deadly precision. Four targets, four perfect hits. Marie lowered her rapid-fire crossbow, exhaling in satisfaction. Beads of sweat clung to her brow, but a triumphant smile tugged at her lips. She wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and examined the perfectly aligned shots. "I¡¯ve definitely improved," she muttered, admiring her own work. Her eyes gleamed with anticipation. "Maybe Master will praise me!" As she made her way toward the targets to retrieve the arrows, the hurried footsteps of a servant reached her ears. "Lady Marie!" Marie turned, spotting a breathless maid rushing toward her, her neatly worn uniform slightly ruffled from running. "What is it?" Marie asked, crossing her arms as she watched the maid struggle to catch her breath. "Lady Marie, Her Highness Princess Gracie has arrived! She requests to have tea with you!" Marie¡¯s expression darkened slightly. Gracie. She didn¡¯t need to guess twice to know this was some kind of ploy. It was probably another one of her petty attempts to find information on her, some orchestrated scene where Marie would be put in an awkward position, where she has to reveal her background. Her initial instinct was to reject the invitation outright. Why should she entertain someone who is literally looking for something to hold against her? But then, an idea struck her. A slow smirk formed on her lips as she straightened her posture. "Have her wait in the audience room. I will be there shortly." The maid looked surprised but bowed and hurried off. Marie inhaled deeply, rolling her shoulders before stretching her fingers. "I¡¯m not going to avoid her," she murmured to herself. "I¡¯m Master¡¯s disciple, after all. I should be dominant, just like her." With that, she strode toward the palace, her steps confident and deliberate. Audience Room, Ravenna¡¯s Chambers, Imperial Palace The air in the chamber was thick with the scent of aged parchment and sandalwood incense. The moment the heavy oak doors shut behind Duke Morgen and his footsteps faded down the hallway, Ravenna leaned back in her chair, exhaling slowly. It had been a long discussion, but now the plan was in place. With a measured movement, she turned toward the corner of the room. "John." A figure stepped forward, his presence familiar as always. Vice Knight Captain, John, bowed slightly. "Yes, Your Highness?" Ravenna¡¯s fingers drummed against the polished surface of her desk. "I need you to request a formal audience with Ser Eugene, Captain of my dear brother William¡¯s knights." John¡¯s brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering across his usually unreadable face. "Ser Eugene?" It was an unusual request. For Ravenna to call upon him meant she had something significant planned. Yet John didn¡¯t question her. He gave a curt nod. "Understood, Your Highness. I will arrange the meeting at once." As he turned and left the room, Ravenna let a slow smirk form on her lips. She leaned back in her chair, clasping her hands together. "I think it¡¯s time I also start stirring the pot up myself," she murmured. 87. Meeting Of The Two Apostles As the door clicked shut behind John, Ravenna exhaled, stretching her fingers before summoning the reputation system window. The glow of the interface flickered to life before her eyes. [ Reputation System v0.1 ] User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim Reputation Level: 61 (7,834 / 9,400 EXP) Current Reputation Points: 44,205 Titles: Raven of the Sun Palace, Unruly Princess { View Reputation Log } { Spend Reputation Points } With a flick of her finger, Ravenna navigated to the spending menu. [ Spend Reputation Points ] She tapped on [Access to Magic Spell Library], confirming the deduction of 100 points. A wealth of knowledge instantly unfurled before her, a vast and infinite archive of magic spells¡ªsome common, some ancient, and others entirely undiscovered. Ravenna¡¯s eyes gleamed as she scrolled through the catalog. "If the system holds every spell in existence, even those yet to be found by scholars, then I need to find something both efficient and practical." She needed spells that could be cast quickly with minimal components¡ªpreferably ingredients that were easy to procure within the capital. The city was abundant with flower shops and apothecaries; finding different flowers or equipment wouldn¡¯t be an issue. Her fingers danced over the floating texts, eyes scanning for anything that would give her an edge during the impending attack. "Time is limited. I need something fast, subtle, and devastating." Her mind sharpened as she made her selections. Audience Room, Marie¡¯s Chambers, West Wing, Imperial Palace Sunlight poured in through the ornate stained-glass windows, casting warm hues of crimson and gold across the polished marble floor. The air was filled with the delicate aroma of freshly brewed tea, an elegant floral blend meant to soothe and relax¡ªyet Marie felt anything but at ease. She sat across from Princess Gracie, her posture composed yet wary, hands delicately wrapped around the fine porcelain teacup. "I apologize for keeping you waiting, Your Highness," Marie said with a small, respectful nod. "I had to change after combat training. I didn¡¯t expect you to seek me out for tea." Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Gracie gave her a pleasant smile, one that didn¡¯t quite reach her eyes. "Oh, I was simply interested in forming a closer bond with Aunt Ravenna¡¯s disciple. After all, she wouldn¡¯t have chosen you unless you were someone extraordinary." Marie¡¯s grip on her teacup tightened slightly. So that¡¯s her angle. She¡¯s fishing for information. Still, she kept her face neutral. "I wouldn¡¯t say that, Your Highness. I am merely a student at the Herptian Church." It was the safest answer. Revealing her past as a former slave was out of the question, and technically, it wasn¡¯t a lie. She was indeed a student under High Priest James, and as per Ravenna¡¯s plan, she was meant to rise through the church ranks in due time. This answer provided nothing of real value while remaining perfectly believable. Gracie sipped her tea, her expression unreadable, before setting the cup down with a soft clink. "Oh, don¡¯t be so modest." Then, her eyes lit up with something different¡ªan excitement that felt out of place given their conversation thus far. "You practice long-distance weaponry, correct? You mentioned that during breakfast." Marie nodded, slightly cautious. "Yes, Your Highness. I did." For a moment, Gracie hesitated, as if battling some internal struggle. Then, her carefully maintained facade cracked. The mature elegance she had been portraying slipped away, replaced by something entirely unexpected¡ªgirlish excitement mixed with a hint of embarrassment. Her cheeks flushed slightly as she leaned forward, eyes sparkling. "So, do you think you can beat Benric up?" Marie blinked, completely caught off guard. "Huh?" Gracie¡¯s blush deepened, and she hurriedly tried to compose herself, clearing her throat. "I¡ªI mean, Lady Marie, do you think you could defeat Benric in a spar?" She sat up straighter, trying to regain her royal poise, but the unfiltered eagerness in her voice betrayed her true emotions. Then, with a slightly dramatic flair, she declared, "Like, beat him up good. Knock his ego down a few pegs." Marie stared at her, utterly dumbfounded. This was¡­ not at all what she had expected. A minute ago, she was preparing for some kind of social maneuvering, possibly even subtle humiliation or an attempt to pry deeper into her background. Instead, the princess was sitting there, blushing and flustered, practically begging her to humiliate her brother in combat. Marie wasn¡¯t sure whether to be relieved or deeply confused. Audience Room, Ravenna¡¯s Chambers, West Wing, Imperial Palace As the sun dipped below the horizon, its fading golden light bathed the palace in hues of crimson and violet. Long shadows stretched across the corridors of the West Wing, where a lone figure walked with measured steps, his mind burdened with suspicion. Eugene had just arrived at the entrance to Ravenna¡¯s private chambers, his brows furrowed as he contemplated the summons. "Why would she call for me?" It made no sense. If Ravenna sought to make a political move, she would have requested an audience with her brother, not him. A private meeting with a mere knight captain¡ªhowever high his standing¡ªwas an odd choice. "Is she trying to negotiate something? Or has she figured out something she wasn¡¯t supposed to?" The thought sent a ripple of unease through him. He had spent the last two years carefully orchestrating events from the shadows, nudging Prince William¡¯s position forward while ensuring Ravenna remained an outcast. The tides of succession were delicate, and if Ravenna had suddenly uncovered something, it could unravel everything he had built. As he neared the audience room, his heartbeat quickened. "Could she have discovered that I¡¯m the true mastermind behind William¡¯s rise? Others have begun to suspect it¡­ but would she dare confront me so openly?" He exhaled sharply. No, that¡¯s unlikely. Ravenna was cunning, but she wouldn¡¯t just directly confront him though it will make her life easier to just kill him . Yet the paranoia remained. Another thought slithered into his mind, one far more dangerous than the last. "Did she figure out that I know the future?" The mere idea sent a cold chill down his spine. But if she had somehow uncovered even a hint of the truth¡­ "Worse still¡­ did she realize that I was the one who ensured she was blamed for her mother¡¯s death?" The memory of that carefully constructed web of deceit flickered in his mind. It had been a necessary move, cruel but essential. Ravenna had to be branded as a disgrace, an outcast unworthy of the throne. The empire could not afford to fall into the hands of the one who had ruined it before. No matter what, he had to ensure she never re-entered the succession race. Eugene clenched his fists, steadying himself as he approached the doors. "I need to be careful. If she truly knows something, I must silence her ambitions before they take root." The guards standing by the entrance gave him a brief glance before one of them stepped forward. ¡°Ser Eugene of the White Falcons,¡± he announced. A brief silence followed. Then, with a soft creak, the grand double doors swung open. Inside, Ravenna sat on an elegant velvet sofa, her posture relaxed but her sharp golden eyes already locked onto him as if she had been waiting for this moment. A knowing smirk played on her lips. Eugene exhaled slowly. "Let¡¯s see what game you¡¯re playing, Ravenna." 88. Just in Time Coastal City of Konfir, Holland Barony, Ancorna Empire As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an amber glow across the rippling sea, the bustling port of Konfir braced itself for an arrival of great significance. Four colossal magic ships, their enchanted hulls shimmering faintly with protective runes, glided into the harbor, their sheer size dwarfing the smaller trade vessels that bobbed nearby. The moment they docked, an army of workers sprang into motion, unloading cargo with practiced efficiency. However, all attention soon turned to the fifteen ornate imperial carriages emerging from the ships, their dark lacquered surfaces adorned with golden filigree, each bearing the unmistakable emblem of the Solarius dynasty. They wasted no time on pleasantries, rolling past the assembled nobility without so much as a pause. Standing at the docks in full regalia, Baron Holland and his wife exchanged uneasy glances. Their hands, previously clasped in formal readiness to greet their esteemed guests, slowly lowered in silent resignation. Inside one of the carriages, a young woman reclined against plush velvet seats, her posture effortlessly regal. Her raven-black hair, cut neatly at her nape, framed sharp, discerning features. She wore an exquisite off-shoulder gown of midnight blue, embroidered with silver threads that shimmered under the dimming light. The fitted bodice accentuated her slender waist, and sheer, gauzy sleeves cascaded down her arms, adding an ethereal touch to her otherwise commanding presence. This was Princess Serena Solarius, the fourth child of Emperor Andrew. She observed the cityscape outside through half-lidded dark black eyes, her expression laced with mild disinterest. With a soft sigh, she finally spoke, her voice smooth yet edged with a cool detachment. "What do they expect me to do? Engage in meaningless small talk?" From the seat across from her, a chuckle broke the silence. "You could have at least spared a few moments to appease their egos," came the amused reply. The speaker was a young man of noble bearing, his chestnut-brown hair styled meticulously to exude effortless charm. His finely tailored coat of deep crimson, embroidered with golden patterns, spoke volumes of his wealth and status. The fabric alone¡ªwoven from the famed Qelari silks¡ªwas worth a small fortune. Despite being a baron by title, his demeanor and attire betrayed the reality that he was no mere provincial lord. This was Baron Gray Josep, a merchant of extraordinary influence and, more importantly, Serena¡¯s fianc¨¦. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it. Serena tilted her head slightly, a smirk ghosting her lips. "I could have," she admitted, lazily trailing a gloved hand along the carriage¡¯s polished window frame. "But they¡¯re loyal to Landon¡¯s faction. I can¡¯t be certain what schemes they might be plotting." Gray let out another chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "Sometimes, you¡¯re too cautious for your own good," he teased, his voice laced with undeniable affection. "Not everyone is out to stab you in the back, you know." Serena¡¯s smirk deepened as she leaned forward slightly, her gaze meeting his with playful sharpness. "And you, dear Gray, are far too trusting for your own good," she countered, her tone equally indulgent. A comfortable silence settled between them as the carriages raced down the cobbled roads, their wheels kicking up dust in their urgency. They had a long journey ahead¡ªone that would take them directly to the imperial capital in just a few days'' time. Just in time for their wedding. Audience Room, Ravenna¡¯s Chambers, West Wing, Imperial Palace The golden glow of the setting sun filtered through the ornate stained-glass windows, casting shifting patterns of color across the lavishly decorated chamber. The air was rich with the scent of freshly brewed tea, the delicate porcelain cups resting on an intricately carved wooden table between two figures locked in a silent battle of wits. Sir Eugene sat with composed elegance, his back straight, his demeanor one of polite deference¡ªyet his mind was racing. He had been summoned unexpectedly, and for what purpose, he still wasn¡¯t certain. Still, he maintained his calm as he took the offered cup, the faint clink of porcelain against porcelain breaking the silence. Finally, he spoke, his tone carefully measured. "To what do I owe the honor of this summons, Your Highness?" Across from him, Ravenna reclined against the plush cushions of her chair, swirling the tea in her cup leisurely before taking a slow sip. The candlelight danced across her sharp, unreadable gaze, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. "I merely wished to be of assistance to my dear brother¡¯s trusted knight," she replied smoothly, setting her cup down with a soft clink. "I thought I might offer a useful tip in aiding you with William¡¯s protection." Eugene¡¯s fingers tightened ever so slightly around his cup, though his expression remained unshaken. "Oh? I had no idea you were so deeply concerned for Prince William¡¯s well-being, Your Highness," he responded, feigning curiosity, his tone laced with the subtlest edge of skepticism. Ravenna exhaled a quiet laugh, tilting her head as she regarded him with keen amusement. "Oh, I care a great deal, Ser Eugene," she said, drawing out her words deliberately. Her golden eyes gleamed as she leaned forward slightly, resting her elbow on the armrest. "So much so, in fact, that I make it a point to keep a very¡ªvery¡ªclose eye on him." Eugene¡¯s composed fa?ade didn¡¯t falter, but his mind sharpened into full alert. There was an unmistakable implication behind her words, though he wasn¡¯t yet certain what she had uncovered. Ravenna observed him closely, her smirk widening at the faint flicker of unease in his eyes. She had his attention now. With a slow, deliberate pause, she placed her hands together and finally dropped all pretense. "I know what you¡¯re trying to do, Ser Eugene." The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of her words pressing down like an unspoken challenge. "So let¡¯s not waste time with unnecessary pleasantries." Eugene met her gaze head-on, his mind now working at full speed. It seemed this conversation was about to become far more dangerous for his future plans than he had anticipated. 89. A Deal with the Protagonist Though Eugene couldn¡¯t tell, Ravenna was internally screaming¡ªfangirling, even. She had read Light¡¯s Conquest more times than she could count, poring over every twist and turn of the story. The protagonist, Eugene, had always fascinated her with his sharp mind and ruthless pragmatism. And now, here he was, sitting in front of her in the flesh, completely unaware that the person he was speaking to wasn¡¯t just Princess Ravenna Solarius, but also Joy Cha Kim, a devoted fan of the novel. Of course, none of her excitement showed on her face. The imperial princess carried herself with effortless poise, her sharp demeanor a perfect mask for her inner turmoil. Eugene, on the other hand, had completely shifted from his usual courteous tone to something far more serious. His eyes held a guarded intensity as he finally asked, ¡°What is it that you want, Your Highness?¡± Ravenna''s lips curved into a faint smile, one that didn¡¯t reach her eyes. She leaned forward ever so slightly, letting the silence stretch before answering. "I know you''re on edge. And, understandably, anything I say will likely be perceived as a threat or a trap." Her voice was calm, almost lazy, as she reached for her tea. Taking a slow sip, she then without hesitation, lifted Eugene¡¯s cup and took a sip from his as well. A subtle act, but one meant to disarm him. Eugene narrowed his eyes. The princess was a known schemer, but she wasn¡¯t reckless. He had expected vague threats, veiled insults, or even a demand for allegiance. Instead, she was taking deliberate steps to lower his suspicions. "However," Ravenna continued, setting the cup back down, "I believe that if I am to defeat William¡¯s faction and inherit the empire, I must keep it intact." Eugene raised an eyebrow, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you¡ª" A sharp tap of Ravenna¡¯s fingers against the table silenced him instantly. Her expression darkened, and a cold glare cut through the air between them. "Is William so friendly with you that you think it is your right to interrupt an imperial family member while they speak?" Eugene clenched his jaw, recognizing the provocation for what it was. He had no desire to test this notoriously volatile princess over something so trivial. "I apologize, Your Highness. Please continue." Ravenna¡¯s smirk returned, satisfied with his submission. "As I said, I have been keeping a very close eye on things. I know that William has control over the dungeon in the Morgen Dukedom of the Estra Kingdom." Eugene remained silent, his expression unreadable. This information wasn¡¯t particularly alarming¡ªDuke Morgen had already met with Ravenna upon arriving in the capital, so it wasn¡¯t surprising that she had learned about the dungeon. But what she said next sent a ripple of unease through him. "Unlike him or the others, I know exactly what¡¯s inside that dungeon." Ravenna leaned forward, her smirk widening as she spoke the words that would change the course of their conversation. "An Abomination." Eugene¡¯s breath hitched for the briefest second. His mind instantly raced to one conclusion: the mages in William¡¯s faction were compromised. Had someone talked? Had their security been breached? Then, regaining his composure, he let out a dry chuckle, feigning nonchalance. "So? You think we intend to use our experiments to annex parts of the empire?" ¡°It must be a misunderstanding,¡± Eugene thought. If Ravenna was merely jumping to conclusions, she might believe they were planning some grand conquest. But in reality, the experiments had nothing to do with warfare. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Their true purpose was something far more crucial¡ªstopping the Absolute Being from reviving. That was information only he knew, and he intended to keep it that way but how can he know that Ravenna was the reader of this world''s story. "No," she said with a knowing smirk. "What I¡¯m saying is that your precious dungeon won¡¯t be yours for much longer. Nor will the Morgen Dukedom." Her gaze sharpened as she let the words sink in. "It will be occupied in the coming days." Eugene¡¯s eyes darkened. His mind snapped into high alert. "Is this a threat, Your Highness?" The abomination experiments were critical. The lab hidden within the dungeon held the key to making genetically distant flowers crossbreed without dungeon spawns¡ªan essential breakthrough for countering the magic of the Witch of the West. If Ravenna was implying she intended to seize control, that was unacceptable. But Ravenna simply shook her head, her tone almost amused. "I¡¯m not threatening you, Ser Eugene. I¡¯m merely telling you something your information network failed to pick up." She leaned back, casually swirling her tea before delivering the final blow. "In a few days, the Conley Empire will be advancing into the Estra Kingdom¡¯s territory¡ªstarting with the Morgen Dukedom." Eugene stiffened. This¡­ wasn¡¯t possible. His network was flawless. There had been no whispers of an invasion. No troop movements. No diplomatic tension that would justify such an act. But if it was true¡­ If the Conley Empire did invade and seize control of the dungeon, the experiments would be exposed. And once the imperial court caught wind of the research, every faction would scramble to claim it. His fists clenched. He could not afford to let that happen. Ravenna, watching his reaction with barely contained amusement, couldn¡¯t help but smirk internally. Of course, she had no proof that the Conley Empire would attack. This was merely something she knows from Light¡¯s Conquest. In the original novel, the Conley Empire¡¯s invasion had been a planned event, orchestrated along with the Hercule Crime Syndicate. While the empire¡¯s focus was drawn toward the chaos unfolding in the capital¡ªcaused by a magical beast attack during Princess Serena¡¯s wedding¡ªthe Conley Empire launched its offensive. And due to the empire¡¯s bureaucratic inefficiency, reinforcements were delayed. The Council of Vassal States kept sending requests for aid. But without the imperial court¡¯s approval since they were preoccupied with finding the mastermind behind the magical beasts attack, no official military action could be taken. By the time the empire finally responded, it was too late. Duke Kevin Morgen had been killed. The Morgen Dukedom had fallen. And when William and Eugene finally joined forces with Aria Morgen, the Duke¡¯s daughter, they were forced into a desperate counteroffensive against an enemy that had already solidified its hold and win gaining them more influence. Ravenna had no idea if history would repeat itself exactly as it had in the novel. Since Duke Morgen was no longer in his territory during this time, and many things have also changed. But if it did¡­ Then Eugene had a choice to make. And she was enjoying every second of watching him contemplate his next move. ¡°Why should I believe you?¡± Eugene finally asked, his piercing gaze scrutinizing her every move. He wasn¡¯t a fool¡ªfar from it. He understood that Ravenna was deliberately trying to send him to the Morgen Dukedom. If what she said about the Conley Empire¡¯s attack was true, then stopping it would be his natural course of action. But that would mean leaving the capital. And he knew better than to think that was a coincidence. This had to be a trap. Ravenna merely smiled, her expression composed as ever. ¡°I knew you wouldn¡¯t believe me so easily.¡± Of course, Eugene was correct in his assumption¡ªshe did want him out of the capital. If he remained here when the magical beast attack occurred, then all her carefully laid plans would crumble. She had spent too much effort planning to ensure that the beasts would be funneled through a single entrance at the venue. A grand display where she, alongside Duke Morgen, would face the creatures in battle, demonstrating her power and strategic brilliance before the imperial court. That moment was meant to be her triumph, her way back into the succession race. But if Eugene were present? He would steal the spotlight. No matter what she did, his overwhelming strength would overshadow her completely, making her efforts meaningless. That was something she could not allow. So she had devised a way to remove him from the equation. By forcing him to use his overpowered abilities to deal with the Conley Empire¡¯s invasion, she could secure her own victory in the capital while he played the hero elsewhere. The thought alone made her want to laugh, but she suppressed it. Instead, she reached for a book beside her, flipping through its pages before carefully pulling something from between them. A single strand of brown hair. She held it up for Eugene to see before placing it onto the table between them. Eugene frowned, confused, but picked it up nonetheless. The moment his fingers brushed against it, his entire body tensed. A surge of energy coursed through him¡ªan unmistakable presence. It was faint, but even in its dormant state, he could feel it. The power of all twelve gods. The realization hit him instantly. His fingers curled tightly around the hair, his expression darkening as he looked up at Ravenna, who was watching him with a knowing smirk. ¡°You want to meet the Saintess, don¡¯t you?¡± she said smoothly, her voice laced with confidence. 90. A Deal with the Protagonist Part 2 ¡°You want to meet the Saintess, don¡¯t you?¡± Ravenna said smoothly, her voice laced with confidence. Eugene''s breath hitched for a moment. "You¡­ Where did you¡ª?" He struggled to find the words, his thoughts racing. He had spent years searching for the Saintess, combing through every lead, every whisper in the underworld, but she had remained elusive. For Ravenna to so casually dangle this information in front of him¡ªit was completely unexpected. He clenched his fists beneath the table. He needed the Saintess. If he had any hope of stopping the Witch of the West from reviving the Absolute Being, the Saintess¡¯s cooperation was crucial. Ravenna leaned back in her chair, watching him like a cat playing with its prey. "I told you," she said, her voice laced with amusement, "I¡¯ve been keeping a very close eye on things." She took a slow sip from her tea before setting the cup down with deliberate grace. "So, let¡¯s make a deal. Take care of the invading Conley forces for me, and in return, I¡¯ll arrange a meeting with the Saintess." Eugene¡¯s eyes sharpened. This was a trap, an intricately woven web that he had just walked into. If Ravenna was telling the truth, it meant she not only knew where the Saintess was but also had the means to orchestrate a meeting. That in itself was absurd. From his memories of his past life, he knew that the Saintess would eventually surface in the Herptian Main Church on the western continent, years down the line. Her appearance there would trigger an international conflict over which faith she truly belonged to, leading to a war between the Solious and Herptian Churches. But beyond that? Her past was a mystery. The only thing he did know was that she had been present at a slave auction in the capital at some point. In his previous life, he had missed his opportunity to rescue her¡ªsomeone else had taken her before he arrived. That was his biggest regret. And now, here was Ravenna, claiming she had a way to arrange a meeting? His jaw tightened. She¡¯s lying. Or at the very least, she wasn¡¯t telling him everything. "And how do I know you won¡¯t go back on your word?" Eugene finally asked, his voice carefully neutral. Ravenna¡¯s lips curled into a smirk. "I can sign a contract, notarized by the Solious Church if that would ease your mind." Eugene¡¯s eyes narrowed. There it is. A clever move, but not clever enough. "The Herptian Church," he countered without hesitation. Ravenna chuckled, clearly anticipating this. "We can have it notarized at both churches if that would satisfy you." Eugene silently assessed her. She had chosen Solious first on purpose, knowing full well that, as a Herptian Apostle, she would be unaffected by its divine contract. A blessing from Solious could be denied by her effortlessly. But he was no fool¡ªhe saw through her game the moment she played it. You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story. Likewise, as the Solious Apostle, he could not be bound by a contract notarized by the Herptian Church. A dual contract was the only fair solution. "You don¡¯t seem surprised," Eugene said slowly, his sharp gaze fixed on her, "that I know you''re a Herptian Apostle." Ravenna let out a soft, amused laugh. "And you don¡¯t seem surprised that I know you''re a Solious Apostle. It seems we both have quite an extensive information network, don¡¯t we?" She rose gracefully from her chair, her regal demeanor never faltering. Outside the Audience Room, West Wing, Imperial Palace The moon had begun its slow ascent, casting a silvery glow over the grand corridors of the Imperial Palace. The marble floors reflected its light, making the palace seem ethereal under the night sky. Vice Captain John stood tall, his posture disciplined as he kept guard at the entrance to the Audience Room. His shift was nearly over, and he could already hear the distant echoes of approaching footsteps in the corridor. Turning his head slightly, he saw Dame Aisha approaching, her armor glinting faintly under the moon¡¯s embrace. She stopped beside him with a small smile, her sharp eyes glancing at him knowingly. "I heard from the others that you''re meeting Katrina¡¯s parents tonight?" she asked, taking his position as John stretched his tired muscles. "Yeah," John exhaled, rolling his shoulders. His armor gleamed under the pale light as he continued, "I¡¯m hoping to marry her before the Imperial Wedding concludes. That way, I can take her with me to Jola when we depart." Dame Aisha nodded, arms crossed over her chest. "That¡¯s a wise decision," she mused. "Her Highness doesn¡¯t seem like she intends to stay in the capital much longer after the wedding, so it makes sense to act fast." John chuckled lightly, "Exactly. I don¡¯t want to risk delaying things." Aisha smirked. "Well, congratulations in advance, then. When Captain Hughes meets you again, he¡¯s going to be shocked to find out he missed your wedding." John waved off her words, a casual air in his tone. "It won¡¯t be a grand event. I don¡¯t have a family, so it''ll mostly be Katrina¡¯s relatives and maybe a few knights." Aisha let out a soft chuckle. "Still, best of luck convincing her parents." John merely raised a hand in farewell as he walked away, his boots echoing against the polished floor. As he made his way through the West Wing, his gaze naturally drifted towards Marie¡¯s quarters. The sight that greeted him made him pause. A group of Imperial Knights stood stationed outside, along with the usual presence of Jola¡¯s knights. That was unusual. Marie had only recently arrived in the capital. She shouldn¡¯t have any connections here¡ªso why did it look like she was entertaining guests? Just as this thought crossed his mind, the door opened, and two figures emerged. Princess Grace and Marie stepped out, their soft giggles filling the corridor. "Alright then, I¡¯ll meet you tomorrow, Lady Marie," Grace said warmly. Marie curtsied lightly. "I look forward to it, Your Highness." John watched as Princess Grace disappeared down the hall before turning his attention back to Marie. His brows furrowed slightly. "Lady Marie," he called out. "What was that about?" Marie turned to him, her expression lighthearted. "Oh, Ser John. It¡¯s nothing. Her Highness Grace merely wished to have tea and get to know me better." She smiled, then added, "She invited me to a training session for the high nobles tomorrow. Don¡¯t worry, I¡¯ll inform Master before I go." John studied her for a moment before giving a short nod. "As long as Her Highness Ravenna is informed, then it¡¯s fine." Satisfied with her response, he resumed his walk out of the West Wing, his thoughts briefly lingering on the unexpected connection between Marie and the Princess. Whatever the reason for this newfound friendship, he had a feeling it would soon prove significant. 91. Re-forming the Faction As the first rays of the sun bathed the grand buildings of Ancorna in golden light, the imperial capital slowly awakened to the start of a new day. The morning air was crisp, carrying the distant chime of temple bells and the murmurs of merchants setting up their stalls. Yet, even at this early hour, the gates of the Imperial Palace saw movement. A procession of carriages, accompanied by an entourage of knights and mages, made its way through the massive iron-wrought gates. Their destination: the Estra Kingdom. Leading them was none other than Eugene. Clad in his traveling armor, his sharp eyes scanned the road ahead with the same determination that had made him a force to be reckoned with. His mission was clear, defend the Morgen Dukedom from the impending invasion of the Conley Empire, in exchange for a meeting with the Saintess as per his deal. From the balcony of the West Wing, Ravenna watched the departing procession with an unreadable expression. The cool morning breeze played with her long, dark locks as she leaned against the ornate railing, her eyes following Eugene and the knights of William¡¯s order until they disappeared beyond the palace gates. ¡°Good,¡± she murmured under her breath. ¡°Now I can focus on my other plans.¡± With a decisive turn, she stepped back into her chambers, ringing the silver bell on her vanity. Within moments, her maids entered, bowing deeply before setting to work. It took hours of careful preparation¡ªlavender-scented baths, layers of silk garments, meticulously arranged hair, and the perfect accessories¡ªbut when Ravenna finally stepped out of her room, she was the very picture of noble elegance. Seated inside her private carriage, she adjusted the folds of her deep indigo dress, tapping her fingers lightly against the polished wood of the interior. The vehicle rocked gently as it traversed the cobbled streets of the capital, heading towards its destination¡ªthe Merchant District. ¡°Re-establishing Ravenna¡¯s faction is just as much of a priority as re-entering the succession race,¡± Ravenna mused aloud, her voice quiet in the privacy of the carriage. ¡°And if my plan is to succeed, I¡¯ll need the right allies¡­ and the right funding.¡± As her entourage reached the heart of the Merchant District, the clamor of bustling trade greeted them. The scent of freshly baked bread and exotic spices lingered in the air, blending with the metallic tang of coin and ink-stained parchment. This was the financial core of the empire, where wealth flowed like a river and power was measured not only by titles but by the weight of one¡¯s purse. The carriage slowed to a halt before an imposing stone building, The Imperial Merchant Association Headquarters. Ravenna stepped out, her heeled boots clicking softly against the pavement as she took in the sight before her. The headquarters was already alive with activity; merchants, clerks, and trade officials bustled in and out, their conversations thick with deals, profits, and market trends. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. ¡°Busy even at this hour,¡± Ravenna muttered, a small smirk tugging at her lips. ¡°Just as expected.¡± Flanked by Vice Captain John and a cadre of knights, Ravenna strode into the grand halls of the Imperial Merchant Association with unwavering confidence. The moment she stepped inside, the murmur of merchants and clerks came to a hushed halt. The staff, though polite, moved quickly to clear the growing crowd that had formed, ensuring a smooth path for the imperial princess. Among them, a middle-aged man with neatly combed hair and a well-maintained navy-blue tunic stepped forward, bowing deeply. His expression held the perfect balance of deference and practiced cordiality. ¡°It is an honor to meet Your Highness,¡± he said, straightening with a warm, professional smile. ¡°I am Nicholas Gabeson, second nephew of Marquess Ryan Gabeson.¡± Ravenna barely spared him a glance. ¡°Yeah, yeah, whatever,¡± she said dismissively, her voice dripping with impatience. ¡°Summon your director, or whoever here actually has the authority to make decisions. I don¡¯t have time to waste on some second son of an obscure noble family.¡± Nicholas¡¯s smile did not falter, though a flicker of amusement passed through his eyes. He had heard plenty about the unruly princess¡ªher sharp tongue, her infamous temper, and her complete disregard for noble decorum. Seeing it in person only solidified the rumors. He wasn¡¯t about to get entangled in whatever imperial problem she had come to dump onto the Association. ¡°Of course, Your Highness. Please follow me,¡± he said smoothly, gesturing toward a hallway leading to the high-ranking manager¡¯s offices. The journey was brief, and soon Ravenna was seated comfortably in a luxurious room, its walls lined with shelves of neatly stacked financial ledgers. A large, polished oak desk stood at the center, behind which sat an elderly yet remarkably fit man. He had steel-gray hair and the kind of sharp gaze that had long since learned to read men and markets alike. The man stood and bowed with practiced formality. ¡°This subject greets the esteemed princess. I am Earl Taylor Hessman.¡± Ravenna studied him with mild interest. ¡°Hessman... That would be the noble family from the northern mountains, correct?¡± ¡°The very same, Your Highness,¡± Earl Hessman replied smoothly. ¡°I serve as a high-ranking manager here at the Imperial Merchant Association. At present, I hold the highest authority in this building, as all directors have been summoned by His Majesty for budget discussions regarding the imperial wedding.¡± Ravenna leaned back, tapping her fingers against the armrest. ¡°So you have the power to negotiate deals? If not, I¡¯ll have to return another day. I have no intention of playing peekaboo with financial clerks.¡± Earl Hessman allowed himself a small, knowing smile. ¡°Rest assured, Your Highness, I have full authorization. Director Duke Ryan Gabeson entrusted me with his personal seal and the authority to approve deals of significant importance.¡± Ravenna weighed his words carefully. She didn¡¯t have time to waste, but she also couldn¡¯t risk her plans leaking prematurely. Still, even if the director were present and refused her deal, she had already prepared for that scenario. The uniqueness of her proposition ensured that secrecy wouldn¡¯t be a concern. ¡°Very well.¡± She exhaled slightly, then leaned forward, resting her elbows on the polished desk. Her eyes locked onto Earl Hessman¡¯s with a gleam of ambition. ¡°Earl Hessman, tell me¡­ Do you know what a tax haven is?¡± Hessman¡¯s brows lifted slightly in intrigue as Ravenna continued ¡°I intend to create one.¡± 92. Tax Haven Ravenna leaned back in her chair, idly twirling a quill between her fingers as she glanced down at the stack of carefully prepared documents before her. ¡°You do remember the decrees my father issued when he exiled me, don¡¯t you?¡± she asked, her voice laced with amusement as she tapped the parchment. Standing beside Earl Hessman, Nicholas raised an eyebrow at the question before responding, ¡°His Majesty decreed that Ravenna Solarius would be the sole ruler of Jola Island and granted the title of Duchess of the Jola Dukedom.¡± He paused briefly, glancing at Hessman before continuing. ¡°You were also allocated 400 Mana Coins to stabilize your new domain and, most importantly, were exempted from all imperial taxation for the next fifteen years.¡± Earl Hessman nodded in understanding, his sharp gaze settling on Ravenna as realization dawned. ¡°Ah¡­ So you intend to turn the Empire¡¯s own taxation laws against them, Your Highness?¡± Ravenna¡¯s lips curled into a smirk. ¡°Exactly.¡± She placed the quill down and folded her hands together. ¡°Tell me, Earl Hessman¡­ Are you familiar with the concept of a tax haven?¡± Hessman¡¯s brows lifted slightly, intrigued. Nicholas, standing beside him, shifted uncomfortably, his curiosity evident despite his efforts to remain composed. Ravenna continued before they could respond. ¡°I intend to turn Jola into one.¡± At that, both men fell into deep thought. The weight of her proposal settled heavily in the air. After a moment, Hessman spoke, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ¡°So, you plan to model Jola after Foster Liam, the city-kingdom in the vassal states region? That independent trade hub has been a concern for the Empire¡¯s nobility and merchants for some time now.¡± ¡°Exactly,¡± Ravenna said smoothly, leaning forward as she slid a stack of documents toward Hessman. ¡°The anti-Imperial sentiment growing within Foster Liam has been stirring unrest for years. The Empire¡¯s nobles and wealthiest merchants have invested heavily in its markets, but with tensions rising, many are worried about the possibility of civil war breaking out there.¡± Hessman took the papers and began skimming through them. His expression shifted from skepticism to intrigue as he read Ravenna¡¯s carefully laid-out plans. ¡°If Foster Liam falls into chaos,¡± she continued, ¡°these nobles and merchants will stand to lose an immense amount of wealth that they¡¯ve carefully tucked away beyond the Empire¡¯s Finance Department''s reach. They need an alternative¡ªone that provides the same financial security and tax benefits, but under stable and reliable management.¡± She gestured toward Hessman. ¡°And I intend for Jola to be that alternative.¡± Hessman placed the documents down and exhaled deeply. ¡°Your plan is¡­ bold, to say the least. But from what I see here, it is entirely feasible.¡± He glanced back at Nicholas before turning his gaze back to Ravenna. ¡°If executed correctly, large merchant guilds and high-ranking nobles could avoid paying Imperial and base taxes altogether, needing only to pay a local tax at the point of purchase.¡± Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings. Ravenna¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°Precisely.¡± Hessman chuckled, the glint of a seasoned negotiator sparking in his eyes. ¡°Then I assume, Your Highness, you are here to propose an exclusive cooperation agreement with the Imperial Merchant Association?¡± Ravenna crossed her legs, her confidence unwavering. ¡°That depends¡­ Do you think your association is willing to cooperate?¡± Hessman mirrored her smirk, the air between them crackling with mutual understanding. ¡°That depends¡­ Will we have exclusive rights in this deal, Your Highness?¡± Before Ravenna could answer, Nicholas, who had been silent for most of the exchange, suddenly spoke up. His forehead was creased with confusion. ¡°Wait! I don¡¯t understand¡­ How would this even work? If merchants are moving their wealth to Jola, why wouldn¡¯t they have to pay taxes? Wouldn¡¯t this hurt the Empire¡¯s economy?¡± Ravenna sighed, her patience wearing thin. ¡°Why do you care, assistant? Just do your job.¡± A brief, awkward silence followed. Earl Hessman let out a chuckle, though there was a faint trace of nervousness in his tone. ¡°Forgive him, Your Highness. Nicholas is my pupil, and he has a habit of asking too many questions.¡± Ravenna exhaled through her nose and leaned back. ¡°Fine. Since he seems so curious, I¡¯ll entertain his ignorance¡ªfor now.¡± Earl Hessman chuckled at her words before turning his gaze toward his pupil. ¡°Tell me, Nicholas,¡± he began, adjusting his cuffs before reaching for a quill and parchment. ¡°How does the Empire currently tax its various federal lords'' estates and merchants?¡± Nicholas straightened, his expression serious as he answered, ¡°There are three primary tax brackets: Base Tax, Local Tax, and Imperial Tax. I understand that the Imperial decree allows Her Highness to bypass the Imperial Tax, but what I fail to understand is how her plan exempts merchants from paying the Base Tax.¡± Hessman hummed thoughtfully, dipping his quill into the ink pot. ¡°Let¡¯s break it down with an example,¡± he said, beginning to sketch a rough diagram on the parchment. Nicholas stepped closer as Hessman started writing. ¡°Let¡¯s take a merchant guild based in Ronin Town,¡± he explained. ¡°Now, this guild primarily operates in the Imperial Capital, selling its goods there.¡± He paused to ensure Nicholas was following. Nicholas nodded, prompting Hessman to continue. ¡°Because the merchant guild is headquartered in Ronin Town, its treasury and financial operations are based there as well. This means that the guild is required to pay a Base Tax to the Ronin Viscounty¡ªa tax rate determined by the Ronin Family¡¯s financial department.¡± He drew an arrow from "Ronin Town" to "Base Tax" on the parchment before moving on. ¡°Now, since the guild is conducting business in the Capital, it must also pay a Local Tax set by the Capital¡¯s financial taxation department¡ªan unavoidable expense for doing business within the city¡¯s jurisdiction.¡± Hessman added another arrow labeled "Local Tax" pointing toward the Capital. Nicholas nodded once more, his brow furrowing as he absorbed the information. Hessman tapped the parchment with his quill. ¡°Then, at the end of the month, an Imperial Tax is imposed on both estates¡ªthe Ronin Viscounty and the Imperial Capital¡ªbased on their total monthly income. This tax is calculated by the Imperial Court¡¯s Accountant Division, which evaluates all business transactions conducted within a lord¡¯s territory and determines the percentage that must be sent to His Majesty¡¯s Treasury.¡± Nicholas pursed his lips, following Hessman¡¯s writing as he continued. ¡°For example,¡± Hessman elaborated, ¡°Ronin Viscounty¡¯s estates are subject to an Imperial Tax of 15%, while the Imperial Capital pays a much steeper 33%. Since the merchant operates in both locations, their income is affected by both these tax rates.¡± He drew a final arrow labeled "Imperial Tax," connecting both locations back to the Emperor¡¯s treasury. ¡°To put it simply,¡± Hessman concluded, ¡°a merchant earning 100 gold in total profit would only be left with around 60 gold after the cumulative tax cuts. This is why major merchant guilds often relocate their headquarters to Foster Liam, a city-kingdom in the vassal states region. Thanks to their special treaty with the Council of Vassal States, Foster Liam imposes only a 5% Base Tax and a 5% Imperial Tax, making it the ideal tax haven for merchants who want to protect their wealth.¡± Nicholas¡¯s eyes widened slightly in realization. ¡°So¡­ Her Highness plans to make Jola into a similar haven?¡± Ravenna chuckled at his assumption, shaking her head. ¡°No.¡±