The ground didn't just shake; it groaned.

  We were no longer a ragtag band of rebels. We were a geological event.

  Leaving the gloomy borders of Moonclaw, our column stretched for miles. A river of black iron, rusted pikes, and weeping banners moving toward the Firelands.

  I sat on Coin-Biter, eating a pear, watching the most beautiful thing in the world:

  Passive Grinding.

  A massive Obsidian Golem (Level 45) roared from the treeline. It was twenty feet tall, made of volcanic glass. A raid boss for any normal party.

  "Hostile detected," Ser Erebus Crux droned from the vanguard.

  He didn't even draw his weapon. He just pointed a gauntleted finger.

  Behind him, the County of Abyssal Reach 500 soldiers with 50,000 SP each raised their heavy crossbows.

  THWUMP.

  Five hundred bolts, enchanted with "Void-Weight," hit the Golem simultaneously.

  The Golem didn't fall. It disintegrated. It was deleted from the server.

  I took another bite of my pear.

  "I love war," I mumbled happily. "I don't have to lift a finger, and I get stronger. This is the ultimate passive income scheme."

  I opened my menu. Durability was key.

  "Stop smiling, Wilhelm," Alexander Shadowgrove rode up beside me, looking immaculate on his white stallion. "You look like you just stole a pie."

  "I stole an army, Alex," I grinned. "Look at them! 122,610,000 SP of pure depression moving in unison!"

  It was true. The army was a sight to behold.

  The Knightly Orders House Grimstone, House Frostvein, House Sepulchre marched in perfect, silent squares. They didn't sing marching songs. They hummed low, funeral dirges.

  But the true star of the show was Ser Erebus Crux.

  A soldier from the Barony of Lament stumbled. He looked up at the sun breaking through the clouds. For a second, the soldier smiled.

  "It... it is warm," the soldier whispered. "Maybe... life isn't so bad?"

  Immediately, the soldiers around him recoiled in horror.

  "He's smiling!" one screamed. "He's feeling hope! Medic! Medic!"

  Ser Erebus appeared instantly. He towered over the smiling soldier.

  He placed a heavy hand on the man's shoulder.

  Black smoke rose from the soldier. The smile faded. The eyes went dead and hollow again. The warmth was replaced by a comforting, crushing existential dread.

  "Thank you, Ser Erebus," the soldier wept with relief. "I... I almost thought everything was going to be okay. It was terrifying."

  "You are safe now," Erebus comforted him in a voice like a closing coffin. "Everything is pointless. Return to the formation."

  The army cheered.

  "EREBUS! EREBUS! THE JOY-EATER!"

  "He is a god to them," Gutrum Falken noted, riding stiffly due to his flayed back. "He saves them from the burden of happiness."

  "It's a very specific niche," I admitted.

  But at the very front of this parade of sorrow, there was a blob of neon yellow.

  Melina Milkwright and her father, Moro Milkwright.

  They were riding in an open carriage painted bright yellow. Melina was waving to the trees. Moro was throwing cheese wheels at unsuspecting squirrels.

  "Forward, friends!" Moro shouted, his voice cracking with aggressive cheer. "To the Firelands! We shall conquer them with friendship! And high-velocity uranium!"

  Prince Volpert rode next to the carriage, looking like he wanted to impale himself on his own sword just to escape the noise.

  "Kill Her," Volpert mouthed to me as he passed

  Suddenly, a shadow fell over me.

  Duke Dankmar Ironvine.

  The Lord Proprietor of the Ironvine Bank rode a massive black warhorse. He wore green-and-gold armor that cost more than my entire life. His face was a mask of cold, hard efficiency.

  Usually, he looked at me like I was a cockroach.

  Today... he looked at me like I was an investment.

  "Your formation is sloppy, Bastard," Dankmar stated flatly.

  I stiffened. "Duke Ironvine. We are moving efficiently enough."

  "Efficiency is not speed," Dankmar corrected. He pointed a gloved hand at the Knightly Orders. "House Breathless is lagging. House Sludge is drifting left. If a dragon strafes you now, you lose 15% of your capital."

  He rode closer. His presence was overwhelming. The sheer weight of his authority pressed down on me.

  "You have purchased power, Wilhelm," Dankmar said, his voice low. "But you drive it like a pirate steering a stolen galleon. You lack discipline."

  "I'm learning," I defended.

  "Then learn faster," Dankmar snapped. "Watch."

  He spurred his horse forward, up to the yellow carriage.

  He didn't yell at Melina. He didn't mock Moro.

  He pulled alongside them.

  "Commander Milkwright," Dankmar addressed Melina.

  Melina blinked, holding a glowing cookie. "Hi, Mr. Green Grumpy Man!"

  "You are radiating energy in a 360-degree arc," Dankmar observed coldly. "It is wasteful. Focus the radiation forward. Use the County of Perdition as a lead shield behind you to protect the main body."

  Melina looked confused. "But... I just want to give everyone a warm hug!"

  Dankmar didn't get angry. He spoke to her in the language of management.

  "If you hug everyone, the hug loses value," Dankmar said. "Save the hugs for the enemy. Hug them until they melt. That makes the hugs for your friends... exclusive."

  Melina’s eyes went wide.

  "Exclusive hugs?" she gasped. "Like... VIP hugs?"

  "Precisely," Dankmar nodded. "Create a scarcity of affection. Supply and demand, child."

  Melina’s face hardened with determination.

  "VIP Hugs only! Forward! Save the radiation for the bad guys!"

  She focused her glow forward. The trees ahead began to wither. The army behind her was spared the fallout.

  Dankmar rode back to me. He looked satisfied.

  "See?" Dankmar said. "You don't fight the chaos. You direct it."

  I stared at him. "Why are you helping me? You hate me. You killed my father."

  Dankmar looked at me. His green eyes were unreadable.

  "I killed a rival," Dankmar corrected. "A rival who was sentimental and weak."

  He looked at the massive army stretching behind us.

  "You are a Bastard. You are greedy. You are transactional. You sold your own dignity to buy this army."

  He leaned in, and for the first time, a ghost of a smile touched his lips.

  "You are nothing like Brandan, boy. You are... remarkably like me."

  He turned his horse back toward his daughter, Lydia.

  "Do not squander my gold, Wilhelm Storm. Or I will foreclose on your life."

  I watched him go.

  Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

  I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather.

  The Monster of the Ironvine didn't want to kill me anymore. He wanted to adopt me. And that was infinitely more terrifying.

  "He's grooming you," Vasco Vane whispered, appearing from the ether. "He sees a successor. A fellow shark."

  I looked at my hands.

  "I'm not a shark, Vasco," I whispered. "I'm just a guy trying to survive the Dragon."

  "Keep telling yourself that," Vasco smirked.

  To the North, the road stretched out endlessly. We couldn't even see the smoke yet, but we knew it was waiting for us, weeks of travel away. The Firelands. Home of Queen Helga Bladeblood, the Mad Dragon. And somewhere in that future inferno... the next payout.

  I kicked Coin-Biter into a trot. 'Alright, you depressed, radioactive, over-funded lunatics!' I shouted. 'Let's get moving! It’s time to go say hello to the Dragon!'

  'WE WAKE SCREAMING!' the army chanted back. 'YAY! HUGS!' Melina screamed.

  It was the worst war cry in history. And it was perfect

  The column of the Grand Army stretched for miles, a snake of steel and misery winding through the rain-soaked valley.

  At the center of the procession, Prince Volpert Ironvine-Stormsong rode a pristine white stallion. The horse was draped in gold-threaded velvet to protect it from the rain, while the soldiers around him marched in mud up to their knees.

  Volpert looked miserable. He hated the rain. He hated the smell of the soldiers. But most of all, he hated his "betrothed."

  Melina Milkwright was skipping alongside his horse. She was humming a happy tune that sounded like a Geiger counter set to a waltz. In her arms, she cradled the Void-Wolf Puppy she had tamed a small, skeletal creature with glowing green eyes that matched her dress.

  "Volpert!" Melina chirped, tugging on his stirrup. "Look! Mr. Bitey made a bubble!"

  The puppy burped a small cloud of green smoke. Melina giggled.

  Volpert looked down. His lip curled in a sneer of absolute revulsion.

  "Get away from me," Volpert whined, his voice cracking. "You are radiating heat. It’s ruining my complexion."

  "But I made you a present!" Melina beamed.

  She reached into her pocket and pulled out a Crown of Glowing Thorns. She had woven it from the radioactive briars of the Weald. It pulsed with a soft, lethal light.

  "I made it to match your eyes!" Melina said, holding it up. "Because they are green like money! Here!"

  Volpert stared at the crown. He looked at the innocent, beaming girl who just wanted to be loved.

  "Mother!" Volpert screamed, turning in his saddle. "Mother! She is trying to poison me! She has a weapon!"

  Lydia Ironvine rode up beside him on a black mare. She looked tired. The confrontation with Brandan the night before had left shadows under her eyes.

  "It is a gift, Volpert," Lydia sighed, rubbing her temples. "Just take it. Put it in your saddlebag. We need her father's support."

  "I will not touch it!" Volpert shrieked. He pointed a trembling, gloved finger at Melina. "She is a monster! Look at her! She glows! She is a freak!"

  Melina’s smile faltered. She lowered the crown.

  "I... I'm not a freak. I'm just... bright."

  "You are a mistake!" Volpert spat. "You are a peasant who fell in a toxic puddle! You shouldn't be marrying a Prince! You should be in a cage!"

  He looked at the Ironvine Guards flanking him.

  "Ser Kael! Remove her!" Volpert commanded.

  The guard, a hardened veteran, hesitated. "My Prince? She is the Commander of the Royal Army. And... she is just a girl."

  "I GAVE YOU AN ORDER!" Volpert screamed, his face turning a blotchy red. "I am the Prince! I am the heir to the Throne! Do as I say, or I will have your tongue cut out!"

  The guard looked at Lydia. Lydia closed her eyes and gave a tiny, imperceptible nod. Humor him.

  Ser Kael stepped forward and shoved Melina back. Hard.

  Melina stumbled. She fell into the mud. The radioactive crown dropped from her hands and landed in a puddle.

  "Oops," Melina whispered, reaching for it. "My crown..."

  "Leave it!" Volpert laughed. A cruel, high-pitched sound. "It belongs in the mud! Just like you!"

  He kicked his horse. The massive white stallion stepped forward.

  SQUELCH.

  The hoof crushed the glowing crown, grinding the radioactive thorns into the dirt.

  Melina gasped. She looked at the broken gift. Then she looked up at Volpert, her eyes filling with tears.

  "Why?" Melina whispered. "I worked on that all night."

  Volpert grinned. He leaned down, enjoying her pain. It was the only time he ever felt powerful when someone else was crying.

  "Because you are disgusting," Volpert sneered. "And no amount of glowing jewelry will change that."

  He looked at the puppy in her arms.

  "And that thing," Volpert pointed. "It offends me. Ser Kael! Kill the rat."

  "No!" Melina screamed, clutching the puppy tight. "No! Mr. Bitey is my friend!"

  "It’s a monster!" Volpert yelled. "Kill it! Cut its head off!"

  Ser Kael drew his sword. He looked miserable about it, but an order was an order.

  "Volpert, stop," Lydia said sharply. "You are making a scene."

  "I am the King!" Volpert shouted back at his mother. "Well, almost! And I say the rat dies!"

  Melina scrambled backward in the mud, shielding the puppy with her own body. The radiation around her spiked. The air began to sizzle. Her tears were literally boiling as they hit her cheeks.

  "Stay back!" Melina sobbed. "I'll... I'll burn you!"

  Volpert saw the fear in the guard's eyes. He saw the hesitation.

  He hated it. He hated that she had power and he didn't.

  "Cowards!" Volpert shrieked.

  He grabbed a heavy riding crop from his saddle. He didn't hit the guard. He didn't hit the puppy.

  He lashed out at Melina.

  WHACK.

  The leather crop struck Melina across the face. A thin line of green blood welled up on her cheek.

  The entire column stopped.

  Wilhelm, Brandan, and Gutrum turned their heads.

  Melina touched her cheek. She looked at the green blood on her fingers. She looked at Volpert.

  She didn't attack him. She didn't use her power.

  She just looked... broken.

  "I thought..." Melina whispered, her voice trembling. "I thought Princes were supposed to be nice."

  Volpert laughed again, feeling a rush of adrenaline from striking a helpless girl.

  "Princes are better than you," Volpert spat. "Remember that, peasant."

  "That is enough!" Lydia snapped. She rode her horse between them, cutting Volpert off.

  She looked down at Melina. For a second, there was a flash of something in Lydia’s eyes. Shame? Pity?

  But she buried it.

  "Get up, girl," Lydia commanded coldly. "Wipe your face. A Princess does not cry in the mud."

  She turned to Volpert.

  "And you," she hissed, her voice low and terrifying. "You will ride in the carriage for the rest of the day. I am tired of looking at you."

  "But Mother !" Volpert started.

  "NOW!" Lydia roared.

  Volpert shrank back. He looked at Melina one last time, sneered, and then kicked his horse toward the carriage, muttering curses under his breath.

  Melina sat in the mud, holding her puppy. The crushed crown lay beside her.

  Moro Milkwright, her father, ran up to her. But even his cheerful programming seemed to glitch. He didn't smile. He just helped her up.

  I watched from Coin-Biter. My hand was gripping the hilt of Cinderbrand so hard my knuckles were white.

  "One day," I whispered to Brandan. "One day, that boy is going to trip. And I am going to be there to make sure he doesn't get up."

  Brandan didn't answer. He was staring at Volpert’s retreating back with the eyes of a man who was realizing that the war wasn't against the monsters in the dark.

  It was against the monsters on the ponies.

  Melina wiped the green blood from her cheek. She didn't glow anymore. The light had gone out.

  She walked on, head down, in the rain.

  ————————————————————————————————————————————————————Total Army-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------