The day had been utterly exhausting. Upon returning from the mine with the second clone squad, Iinstructed the clones to fetch the elder. Within minutes, he approached, escorted by two clones, his face marked by evident concern. I curtly informed him that the monster threat was neutralized, but gave him no time to rejoice, immediately tasking him with arranging my lodging. Without hesitation, he led me to a modest wooden cottage. The house was unremarkable, both externally and internally—a well-maintained rural home, nothing more. I had hoped for something grander, but after two nights in a tent, it sufficed. Dismissing the elder, I dragged myself to the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed, too exhausted to undress. My work thus far hardly resembled that of an emperor, but I consoled myself with the thought that all emperors, unless born to the title, started somewhere.
Late the next morning, I mustered the strength to rise and inspect the village's affairs. After washing at the outdoor well, accompanied by two clones, I began my tour. The longer I walked, the more the village resembled a bustling anthill—every peasant was occupied, and work proceeded at full speed. Smiles adorned the villagers' faces, and upon spotting me, they expressed gratitude in their own ways: some bowed, others offered praise, and one burly man even attempted to embrace me, though my clones swiftly dissuaded him. Such genuine gratitude brought a smile to my face.
During my tour, the idea struck me to visit a nearby city. Acting on this impulse, I approached the first passerby—a young woman—and asked her to lead me to the elder's house. She eagerly agreed and guided me there, occasionally casting shy glances my way, which I ignored; I had no time for distractions. Upon arriving, I thanked her and entered the elder's home without knocking. In the living room, the elder and his wife sat at a table, sipping tea and eating biscuits—a scene that, in a more refined setting, could pass for provincial aristocracy. Seeing me, the elder choked on his tea and coughed violently. In his coughing fit, he attempted to kneel and greet me properly, but I stopped him with a gesture and waited for him to recover.
"Greetings, my lord, in my humble abode. How may I serve you?" His flattery was pleasing, but I had no time for it.
"You're a fine flatterer, but don't waste my time. I'm here on business—tell me about the nearest city."
"As you command, my lord. The closest city to our village is Andora. Head west from the village, and in ten minutes, you'll reach the main road. Follow it south, and you'll arrive directly at the city." The name Andora struck me as oddly similar to Endor from Star Wars, but I dismissed the coincidence.
Thanking the elder, I left as abruptly as I'd entered. Over the next twenty minutes, I prepared for a covert mission to gather information, saving the most exciting task for last—it was time to acquire a Sith's weapon. Mentally, I opened the shop and navigated to the weapons section. No complete lightsaber was available; I could only purchase components separately: hilt, crystal, and power cell, each costing 30,000 credits. My inner miser recoiled, but I parted with nearly 100,000 credits.
Placing the components on the bed, I sat cross-legged a short distance away. Unsure of the lightsaber assembly process, I closed my eyes and focused my Force on the parts. The hilt, red crystal, and power cell levitated, assembling like a puzzle into a complete lightsaber. Without worrying about errors, I grabbed it and activated it. With a distinctive hum, a red blade extended. Playing with it like a toy, I accidentally sliced a nearby nightstand in half.
Satisfied, I attached the lightsaber to my belt beside my blaster. As I stepped outside, villagers surrounded me. Sensing no hostility, I felt slightly awkward under their attention, especially since I hadn't mentioned leaving. "What do you want?" I asked, puzzled. They bowed in unison, shouting, "Safe and easy travels, my lord!" The gesture, whether from respect or fear, was a pleasant surprise, boosting my mood. I chose not to dwell on their motives to avoid souring it.
"Thank you, my dear subjects. I shall return soon," I said, avoiding confirmation of their suspicions about my destination.
"We await you," they replied, their voices less synchronized. As they parted, two clones approached.
"Your Majesty, do you require an escort?" one asked, concern evident.
"Thank you, but no." I suddenly recalled an oversight. "By the way, the village garrison will temporarily lack a commander. I appoint you to the role," I said, pointing to the speaking clone. "Ensure the village's safety in my absence. Do not fail me." Without waiting for a reply, I turned and walked away.
"It shall be done!" he saluted, hurrying to organize patrols.
An hour into my journey, the scorching sun nearly overwhelmed me. Without my enhanced stamina from my titles, I'd likely have collapsed. Luck was with me, though—a cart approached from behind. Stepping aside, I waved to the driver, who stopped, allowing me to approach. The driver, a young man of about twenty in fine clothing, seemed to be a merchant. He spoke first.
"Hey, traveler. Heading to the city? Need a ride?"
"Hello. Yes, that'd be great. It's a long walk, and the sun's relentless."
"Haha, no worries. For a couple of silver, I'll get you there quick," he said, mimicking a coin with his fingers and grinning.
"Fine, here," I said, sitting beside him and handing over two silver coins. Charging for a favor that costs him nothing felt unfair, but he was within his rights. Fortunately, I had plenty of coins from the bandits—89 gold, plus silver and copper.
"Let's go," he said, snapping the reins.
"Call me Benjamin. As you probably guessed, I'm a merchant, hauling goods to Andora. What's your name?"
"Andrey. Also heading to Andora, on personal business."
"Lucky you ran into me. Are you an adventurer or a wandering trader?" My vague answer dissatisfied him, prompting further questions.
"No goods to sell, and no adventurer's license," I replied. He shook his head.
"Pity. Got money for the city entry fee?"
"What? You have to pay to enter?"
"Of course! Did you fall from the sky? Every city in Oldenburg charges an entry toll. Or are you not local?" The concept was as obvious to him as the clear sky above. I played dumb to extract more information.
"Not local. I'm from the North…"
"Oh, that explains it. We don't get many visitors from the Deidan Republic," he interrupted.
"Haha, yeah, it's been a tough journey. We don't have entry fees back home."
"Sounds tempting. Maybe I'll move there someday. Always hated paying just to enter…"
Our casual chat made the journey pass quickly, and soon we reached the city gates, large enough for a giraffe to pass through. No queue delayed us, and two armored guards greeted us.
"Good day! You must undergo a contraband check and pay the entry toll—one silver each."
"That's steep for just entering," I said, testing their reaction.
"You dare question our lord's laws?" a guard snapped, but Benjamin intervened.
"Don't mind him, sir. He's from another country, unfamiliar with local customs."
"Then let him learn our laws and pay," the guard spat, but we each handed over a silver coin. While we spoke, the cart was searched. As we entered, I imagined my army besieging the city, making that guard pay for his insolence—if he survived. Benjamin's voice broke my reverie.
"Here we are," he said with relief as I dismounted.
"Thanks for the ride, friend," I smiled, turning to leave, but he called out.
"Wait! Do you know where the adventurers' guild is?"
I'd forgotten about it, distracted by the guard. Joining the guild and climbing its ranks held no appeal, but hiring its services to lure out the city's strongest warriors could simplify a future siege.
"Nope!" I shouted back.
"Go to the crossroads, turn right, then straight! You'll hit the square, and the guild's there!" Benjamin drove off to his business.
Time to execute my plan. Following his directions, I reached the square. A three-story building with a sign depicting crossed swords over a shield stood out—clearly my destination. Upon entering, all eyes turned to me. The men, fit and armed with fine swords, stared silently. At the counter stood a girl with cat ears, startling me—were these the beastfolk I'd only read about? Approaching under their gaze, I was captivated by her striking purple, predatory pupils. Unfazed, she addressed me calmly.
"Good day, sir. How may I assist you?"
"Greetings. I'd like to place a request for high-ranking adventurers."
She raised an eyebrow, skeptical of my means. "Are you sure? Our top adventurer's services cost 80 gold."
"Don't worry, I have the funds. How much is the deposit?"
"The full amount. We'll post your request to adventurers of the appropriate rank. The payment serves as their reward."
"Indulge my curiosity—are there S-rank or even SS-rank adventurers here?"
"We have both! But there's only one SS-rank adventurer in the kingdom." My guess about the ranking system, common in fantasy worlds, was correct.
"Who's the SS-rank adventurer?" My question drew everyone's attention, their looks mocking, signaling my mistake. A hulking man, towering over me, approached with a crooked smirk.
"How don't you know the SS-rank adventurer? It's the kingdom's princess! Even a pathetic fool like you should know her—she's the most beautiful woman alive!"
"First, back off—you reek worse than a goblin. Keep your hands off; I don't want to wash my clothes after whatever you've touched. Second, I'm not local, from the Deidan Republic, so I'm unfamiliar with your customs."
The room erupted in laughter, and the man grabbed my clothes, enraged. My hand rested on my blaster, ready to shoot, but a stern woman entered, halting the scene.
"What's going on here?"
A mature, heavyset woman in improbably fitted armor—clearly a knight—interrupted. Realizing she'd "save" me, I ignored her and turned to the receptionist.
"Sorry, will you accept my request for an S-rank adventurer?"
"Of course. Pay 80 gold, and we'll discuss your issue in private."
"Fine," I said, surprised by her straightforwardness, expecting more scrutiny.
The beastfolk girl led me to a meeting room and left, asking me to wait. Two sofas faced each other across a table. Sitting, I awaited an official. Soon, a gray-haired man, possibly the guildmaster, entered.
"I'm listening," he said gravely, and I launched into my fabricated tale.
"In the Dark Forest, an army of white, human-like monsters appeared. They seized the village where I was staying, killed a hundred people, and enslaved the rest for a ritual to offer our souls and bodies to a demon. Their white skin is hard as steel, and they wield strange bows that shoot blue rays, killing everything. They're intelligent and can speak—terrifying creatures!" The guildmaster listened intently, and I struggled to suppress a grin at my outlandish story.
"Why do you believe an S-rank adventurer is needed?"
"Our village had two retired A-rank adventurers, my friends. They fought these monsters but failed, among the hundred killed."
"I see. We accept your request for S-rank adventurers. Await our assistance."
"Thank you! I must return to my village, lest they suspect I've fled."
"Safe travels."
The return journey was cooler, but without a ride, it took five hours to reach the village. I began preparing for the adventurers. Collecting 100,000 credits from both mines, I had over 400,000. I hired a thousand clones for 10,000 credits, erected concrete fortifications around the village, and added observation posts with spotlights. Finally, I purchased a light vehicle factory—the backbone of my army.