On the way, I see something strange on the wall of one of the tunnels and stop to observe it closely. It looks like black gunk, streaked with greenish tints. It doesn’t look good at all. I use stone control to make a simple stone stick and bring it closer to touch it. Yes, totally gunky. I bring the stick with the black substance stuck to it near my nose, without touching it. It reeks.

  “Forgive us, leader Bianca. I’ll send someone to clean it right away,” the totem tells me.

  “What is it?”

  “We don’t know. It’s around the cave, making a mess. It smells and tastes bad.”

  Tastes? They tried it?

  “Wait,” Ronan says, stopping Gump, who had quickly approached to remove it.

  “Ronan?” I ask.

  “My lady, I think this is the miasma.”

  The miasma...

  When I asked him, the totem explained that the Splintered Fang tribe’s magical energy was feral glow, which they channeled from the spirit temple.

  The town hall interface told me that miasma was Convergence’s magical energy, produced by the concentration of the settlement’s inhabitants in an area. In theory, these caves produce one point of condensed miasma every fifty hours.

  So this gunk is miasma. I don’t know whether this is a full point or just a fraction, but it’s miasma.

  “If that’s the case, we need to store it somewhere the settlement recognizes so it can be used. Now that Convergence has reached level 2, maybe we can build the temple or one of the totemic buildings.”

  “It would be interesting to look into it, my lady.” He turns to the totem. “Totem, where have you thrown the rest of this gunk?”

  “Where it won’t be in the way. In that clearing where you keep your bones.”

  The one with the animal corpses?

  “My lady, I would build a warehouse and store it there,” Ronan says.

  “Among the settlement level-1 buildings there was a warehouse. It cost...”

  I frown. How is it that I even remember its cost? This scholar thing is amazing. Or that, or one of my stats. Wisdom, maybe?

  “It cost ten influence points to unlock, and one gold coin, ten logs, and one hundred and twenty stone blocks to build it,” I finish.

  “Shall we go make it later?”

  “But it’s late now. I want to see the quarry and go to sleep.”

  I’ve been feeling drowsy for a while now.

  “I can do it, my lady. After all, you have appointed me administrator. And I am used to staying up late.”

  “Great. Thanks, Ronan.”

  Normally, I’d feel guilty about taking advantage of him like this. But not anymore. A ruler has to delegate; I can’t do everything myself. And Convergence is almost more Ronan’s than mine. After all, he’s the one bringing people and raising all the undead.

  We arrive at the quarry, and I like what I see. It’s basically what I imagined when I was excavating: a broad stone face for extraction and enough space to carve and shape the blocks. There’s not much free space, but as they dig deeper into the mountain, there will be more.

  There are still some curious goblins in the area, though most have already left. They greet me, and I return the greeting. I feel satisfied—it’s been a very productive day.

  And the best part: no more making bricks!

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  Yes, the little things are the best.

  With a smile, I say goodbye to Ronan and go to sleep. The pup scampers toward me as soon as I enter the common cave.

  They keep offering me a smaller, individual cave to sleep in, but here, with the furs that serve as a bed near one of the fires, I’m fine.

  “Hello. Did you have a good time? Were you good?” I ask, scratching behind his ears and burying the fingers of my other hand in his silky fur.

  I almost treat the poor thing like a real puppy instead of an intelligent divine beast.

  “Woof!” That’s his whole response, along with a lick on my cheeks.

  “Yes, I’m sure you were good. You’re an adorable little puppy.”

  Without stopping hugging him, I approach the furs, lie down, and cover myself. Sleep wraps around me swiftly, and tonight there are no nightmares for me. Only the quiet satisfaction of a job well done.

  Lucas was fourteen years old the day he no longer wanted to keep living—the day his life, as he knew it, ended completely.

  Since the forest had been much safer lately, he’d gone the previous afternoon with his older sister Eliza to gather berries and bark, and they’d stayed the night in their father’s cabin.

  His father and grandfather were lumberjacks and were teaching him the trade. Normally, he would have been with them in the forest and either returned to the family house in the village or stayed at the cabin if they got back late from felling trees.

  Since in two days it would be his little sister Rhea’s birthday, he’d accompanied Eliza—a year older than him and the eldest of the siblings—to gather berries to make a cake.

  When they returned to the village the next morning, they found a strong military presence.

  “The orcs attacked,” a soldier at the entrance told them. “Many of the villagers managed to take refuge in the town hall or the fort.”

  Fear gripping them, Lucas and his sister ran toward their home. It was in ruins, and their entire family was dead.

  All of them.

  His parents. His younger brothers and sisters. His grandparents.

  Those lifeless eyes, those faces frozen in fear and pain… the images burned themselves into his soul, tearing it apart, screaming at him that he’d never see them again.

  And he wanted to die, right there.

  Then he heard a dull sound, the living body of his older sister collapsing to the ground, just as shattered inside as he was. And he heard another sound, an inhuman scream of pain, and he didn’t know whether it came from his throat or Eliza’s.

  Then he realized he couldn’t die. That he had to keep living, carrying the loss and emptiness left behind by nearly everyone he loved.

  All but one: Eliza.

  He had to be strong for her. Take care of her. Protect her so they wouldn’t take her too.

  Eliza didn’t move. She remained collapsed on the ground, staring at the bodies of her family. Her gaze shifted between her mother and Rhea, passing over the rest of her siblings.

  Lucas approached and placed a hand on her back. He wanted to hug her, but he couldn’t. His heart was broken.

  “Who did this?” Eliza muttered through clenched teeth, hatred growing heavier with each word.

  “Orcs,” a soldier said, having seen them approach the corpses and identify them.

  “I want their bodies. I want their blood. I want them to suffer like they made my family suffer,” Eliza said.

  Lucas looked at her, barely recognizing her. Where was his warm, responsible older sister, the one who treated everyone as if she were a second mother?

  “We’ll finish them off. Don’t worry,” the soldier told her.

  “No. I’ll do it,” she said, standing up.

  Lucas felt something stir inside him as he saw his sister find that strength. He understood. They’d make those wretched monsters pay.

  “Me too,” he said.

  “You’re villagers, leave it to us soldiers.”

  Lucas knew they wouldn’t take him. He grabbed his sister’s hand and squeezed it.

  “We’ll follow them,” he mouthed silently when she turned to look at him.

  She nodded.

  Time passed, and the soldiers still hadn’t set out. Then an academy student arrived, the necromancer who’d once given a dog to a friend of one of his younger siblings. He raised a corpse and obtained the location of the orc village from it.

  Lucas heard it. He would go. His sister too.

  They prepared to follow the soldiers in secret, but it wasn’t necessary. When the kingdom’s second prince arrived, he invited all who suffered—all who needed to see the murderers bleed or kill them themselves—to accompany him.

  Without hesitation, Lucas volunteered. Or tried to. His sister beat him to it.

  “What are your names?” the second prince asked.

  “Your Highness, I’m Lucas, and this is my sister Eliza.”

  The prince didn’t ask about their losses. Better that way. Lucas didn’t know if he’d be able to stay strong if he had to name them out loud. And he couldn’t afford to collapse and cry. Not until all those murderers had paid for their crimes.

  “You’re more than welcome. Stay close to me, like the other villagers. Don’t worry, I won’t keep you from battle—I just want to make sure, as much as possible, that you’re safe.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lucas realized he and his sister weren’t alone. There were many others, adults and youths alike. And they all shared the same look: souls shattered by pain, held together only by bloodlust.

  Lucas thought the second prince was a great man for allowing them to participate. He was just a lumberjack, and his sister had only helped their mother at home. Eliza was level 1. So was he. Lucas had hunted rabbits before, but animals didn’t grant experience. He knew how to wield an axe, but only to fell trees.

  And despite all that, despite the fact they might be nothing more than dead weight, the second prince allowed them to be there and wanted them close.

  However, Lucas no longer wanted to keep living, except to protect Eliza. Maybe at another time he would have admired a leader like that.

  But not anymore.