”It doesn’t matter what I do,” Laryn said. “People are going to die.”

  “The burden of leadership,” Adi said. “Making the hard decisions.”

  Laryn sat on the spikey fence around the kingdom core. Adi sat beside him, swinging her legs as they gazed across the river toward Elvendar. Trees swayed gently in the wind.

  “I don’t really want to make all the choices,” Laryn said.

  “Not making a choice is a choice.”

  “Ilydia demanded that I hand over the perpetrators. Thallon, Hober, Widan, and Gall, the ones who actually crossed the river. But Hela is the one who urged them to it, and she’s the one who Ilydia caught with the necklace.”

  “That’s true,” Adi said. “So you’re going to turn them over to him?”

  “He’s open to making an alliance with us, if we do that,” Laryn said.

  “You have no guarantee of that,” Adi noted.

  “True,” Laryn said. “I could turn over anyone, or no one. But whoever I turn over will probably be killed. And… turning over nobody means the elves will be hostile. They may even attack, and try to wipe us all out.”

  “What are leaning towards?” Adi asked.

  “The selfish part of me doesn’t want to hand anyone over. If the elves choose to fight us, that’s their decision, and anyone who dies is their fault, not mine. But that’s not how it works, is it? As the leader, I have full responsibility for this place and these people.”

  Adi nodded gravely.

  “As a part of my studies as a warrior, I read a logistics book once. It seemed pointless to me at first, because it was about managing populations, not armies. It was called ‘The People Resource.’ It was unique, because it focused on managing the people inside your kingdom like they were physical resources. It was mostly about dealing with tens of thousands of citizens. I don’t remember much about it, other than a general sense that it seemed a very cold and cruel way of treating people.”

  “Most rulers have to make decisions that affect large populations. You can’t get to know everyone that you’ll affect personally.”

  “I know that,” Laryn said. “But we always at least pretend like we’re doing it for their good.”

  He jumped down from the fence.

  “Thank you for listening to me,” he said.

  Adi nodded and smiled. “It is part of my job, you know.”

  Laryn shrugged. “Sure, but… thank you for doing your job.”

  He took a few steps toward the camp.

  “I know what my father would do in this situation,” Laryn said. “He’d protect his most valuable assets. Turn some people over to the elves, regardless of who was involved in the raid. Then, he’d surprise attack the elves and take over their kingdom.”

  “That is one strategy,” Adi said. “Is that what you’re going to do?”

  “I don’t know if I want to be like my father,” Laryn said. “But I see the logic behind it.”

  Laryn worked with Gaten the rest of the day, preparing for a fight. The kingdom core’s abilities forced him into a difficult dilemma. Having high influence would be incredible valuable if a fight broke out. Having more tiles allowed him to rewind time further; an ability that could prove pivotal. But each tile he claimed spread out the influence among more tiles.

  So he focused on sifting as much essence as possible. Water, since that would reduce the balance debuff and it was the fastest to gather and sift. Every dozen minutes throughout the day, he sifted another barrel.

  The day wore on, and time ticked closer to the designated meeting point.

  Laryn’s mind ran in troubled circles. Should he turn the culprits over to the elves? All of them? Some of them? Innocent, but less useful people? None of them?

  His throughs swirled through feverish paths, repeating chains and loops, never coming to any conclusion. So he worked, preparing for a fight that felt more and more inevitable.

  Laryn sifted water for hours, using cooldown periods to coordinate the work of the Vallorians.

  He managed to recover all the essence lost from his time rewind earlier that day. Since his influence had been two and two-thirds per tile, sacrificing fifteen tiles had lost him forty core essence.

  As the sun set, he pondered about claiming more tiles. What was the right balance between higher rewind time and higher influence? He reclaimed the fifteen tiles he’d lost earlier, completing the ring and gaining a stat point back in strength. He was tempted to go for another ring, but he didn’t want to take more elf land and aggravate them further.

  Three influence per tile. A healthy amount, but he wanted to have more tiles so that he could rewind time without breaking rings and losing his stats. He decided to spread his claim to the rest of the island.

  To capture the entire island, and much of the south fork of the river, Laryn nearly tripled the claimed area of the kingdom. Influence had dropped to under one and a half, but the move felt right to him. Hopefully controlling part of the river would make it harder for elves trying to sneak across.

  “Congratulations!” Adi said, after he’d done it. “You’ve reached Tier three: Homestead.”

  “Great,” Laryn grumbled. “What does that do for me?”

  “You’ve got new spells! An elemental [Shield], first of all. Oh and the ability to infuse claim stakes,” Adi said. “You can use them to destroy the claims of other kingdoms, or to claim your own tiles. Oh, also, I see the, um, funky shape you’ve drawn with your kingdom. It’s a bit childish, don’t you think?”

  Laryn had noticed the odd shape already. He rolled his eyes. “It’s not that phallic,” he groaned.

  “Also, since you’ve chosen this strange layout for your kingdom, I have to remind you that your kingdom must remain continuous. Any part that gets cut off from the kingdom core will be lost. An enemy could cut right through the, um, base of that…”

  “Yeah, yeah, when I’m richer I’ll make it look nicer. Would you prefer a heart? or a crown?”

  “I’m partial to hexagons, myself,” Adi said with a flick of her hair.

  “Whatever. Thanks for the help. Want to tell me how to make Claim Stakes?”

  The process turned out to be very simple. All Laryn needed was a long, sharp stick. It had to be at least three meters long. He could then use a magical ability called ‘[Craft Claim Stake]’ on the stick. Magic would run the length of the rod, etching runes into its surface. With each additional magic affinity level, he’d be able to create more powerful claim stakes.

  To use a claim stake, Laryn simply had to stab the thing into a claimed tile. It would begin a countdown as the stake gathered power. If the stake was countered, by someone placing another claim stake in the same tile, it would pause the countdown. If the stake were broken or knocked down, it would stop completely.

  Laryn had studied claim stake designs. He knew that some were made out of metal rods, to make them harder to break. Some had extra handles or even screws on them to allow them to be driven more securely into the ground.

  Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  But for now, all they had were wooden sticks. He set Gaten to work crafting some for him, and binding handles onto them for easier staking and carrying. His ‘Craft Claim Stake’ ability also had a cooldown, but it didn’t affect Sift, so he alternated between casting the two as the light faded from the sky.

  No moon shone in the sky that night, and it soon grew too dark for Laryn and Gaten to keep working.

  “Good work. Thank you for all your help today,” Laryn said, clapping the boy on his shoulder.

  “Is it going to be enough?” Gaten asked, surveying the pile of claim stakes they’d crafted. One dozen stakes, piled near the core.

  “If we lose a fight, it won’t be a lack of claim stakes,” Laryn said. “At least these will allow us to contest anyone who tries to claim our island.”

  “Why can’t we just let the elves have the land, and not worry about it?” Gaten asked.

  Laryn rubbed his scalp. “At this point, we’ve gone too far,” he said. “We hurt them, and they don’t trust us. If I simply gave up those tiles, it wouldn’t be enough for them.”

  As he spoke, he wondered if he’d been thinking too much about his own stats and buffs. Wouldn’t it have been better if he’d offered to give up the land early on?

  No. From the beginning the elves had wanted him gone. Ilydia was only negotiating with them now because he was nervous about void cultists… but he was only nervous about void cultists because he had thought they attacked him. Now that Ilydia knew…

  “Well,” Gaten said, glumly. “I guess it means more fighting, then.”

  Laryn smacked his brow. “I’m being played,” he muttered.

  The realization broke him out of the rut of ideas. A new field of options opened up before him.

  He grew more optimistic about the possibilities, and soon his ideas coalesced, taking shape like orbs of essence sifted from a bucket of water.

  A path forward appeared. Narrow, yes. Dangerous, yes. But possible.

  The first thing he did was gather everyone.

  “These have defied the will of the [Ruler] and must be punished,” Laryn said.

  He brought Gall, Thallon, Hela, Widan, and Hober forward. Nearly a quarter of his population.

  Laryn held a long, supple switch cut from a drooping tree.

  “Twelve lashes,” he declared. The men’s jaws tightened. Widan glanced nervously around. The punishment was not harsh, but would be painful.

  Hela hissed, and opened her mouth.

  “Any protest,” Laryn snapped. “Adds additional lashes.”

  Hela closed her mouth.

  One by one, Laryn whipped his disobedient subjects. He did not hold back. His core enhanced strength caused the switch to draw blood as he beat them.

  Silence fell. When he was done, Laryn gathered the offenders and walked with them to Thallon’s forge area.

  “That was punishment for acting against my will,” Laryn said. “The five of you are still in danger from the elves.”

  “You told them?” Thallon exclaimed.

  “I didn’t tell them who was involved in the attack.”

  “I wasn’t even involved,” Hela said, face twisted with pain as she tried applying poultice to her own back.

  “You were,” Laryn said, “And even if you weren’t, Ilydia thinks you were.”

  Laryn really wanted to chew the woman out for wearing the pendant, but he bit his tongue. He’d already beaten her.

  “Yeah, it was so dumb to wear that pendant in there,” Gall said.

  “I forgot about it,” Hela hissed defensively.

  “You didn’t see me parading around with an elven helmet on,” Gall continued his prodding. “You blew it for all of us.”

  “Hey,” Laryn raised his arms. “It doesn’t matter now. We might not have blown our chance for peace with the elves, but I need to buy us some time. I am going to suggest that within the next two to three hours, the five of you take a trip. I don’t care where you go; but I’d suggest north. Maybe you can go find some of those pepper plants and kill some cattle. Thallon keeps talking about peppered beef, and to be honest, I’m growing tired of gobo berries.”

  “Why?” Hela demanded. “Are you trying to get rid of us?”

  “No,” Laryn said, “I’m trying to keep you around. If you’re gone for the next three days, it will buy us time. Space. I can keep trying to work with Ilydia, and hopefully we can reach an agreement.”

  “What if you don’t?”

  “Then I’ll figure out how to buy more time. Look, I’m trying to help you here. I’m doing my job as ruler, and I don’t need you second guessing me at every turn. All you have to do is take a trip. Leave tonight. Don’t get lost. Come back in… three days. If we haven’t made peace with the elves by then you’ll be needed to fight them.”

  He turned to leave them to their planning. “Oh,” he said over his shoulder. “Leave all the stuff you took from the elves here. I’m giving it all back. And I mean everything!”

  Everyone looked at Hela.

  “What?” she protested.

  They started preparing to leave. Laryn nodded grimly. He needed to rest; tomorrow’s meeting would be very important.