The throne room shook with noise. Dozens of Caelari voices layered into one frantic storm, questions, accusations, shouts of fear. Bone protrusions flickered in and out of their skin as panic edged them toward violence again.

  Alistair had had enough.

  “Quiet!” His voice cracked like a whip, powered by the lingering edge of his aura. The sound cut through the din, leaving a ragged silence. Seventy-three pairs of eyes turned toward him.

  He drew in a slow breath, forcing his tone steady. “I will convene with my council, and then I will return to answer your questions. All of them. Until then, you will remain here. You will rest. And you will not wander.” His gaze swept across them, hard. “This land is uncharted. We don’t know what dangers hide beyond these walls. Do not make me bury my people on the first day of my rule.”

  Murmurs rippled through the crowd, nervous but subdued.

  Alistair gave a curt nod. “Good. Now breathe. Heal. Talk quietly. This hall will hold until I return.”

  With that, he turned on his heel. “If you’ll follow me,” he said, his voice pitched lower to his companions.

  Kael raised a brow as he fell into step beside him. “What exactly did you tell them?”

  Alistair smirked tiredly. “That I’d be having a meeting with my council.”

  Brimma snorted. “Council, eh? Saints preserve us.”

  Buddy padded after them with a happy huff, embers trailing from his jaws. Fergus followed in silence, his crimson eyes darting between the Caelari, unreadable behind his mask of etiquette.

  Alistair led them through the throng, toward the heart of the throne room. There, rising from the cracked stone like the spine of the world, stood the pedestal. The Founding Crystal glowed at its crown, threads of light spider-webbing down into the floor, pulsing faintly like veins.

  He stopped before it, the light painting his pale skin in strange colors.

  For a long moment he simply stared.

  Then he let out a shaky laugh. “Not gonna lie,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I am a bit overwhelmed.”

  Alistair planted both hands on the edge of the pedestal and looked over his gathered companions like he was about to announce the fate of the world.

  “Alright,” he said solemnly. “Council meeting. First of its kind. Historic. Try to look important.”

  Brimma leaned on her staff, one eye squinting at him. “Council? I’m an old woman with bad knees and worse patience. You want me in a council, it’ll cost you a chair.”

  Kael crossed his arms. “You dragged us to the center of a ruined throne room, with a glowing crystal humming loud enough to give me a headache. Forgive me if I’m not convinced of the formality.”

  “Cynicism noted,” Alistair said. “Next.”

  Buddy barked and sat on his haunches, tail sweeping across the stone like a blazing broom. He let out a happy woof, embers spilling from his jaws.

  Alistair pointed at him. “Excellent. Loyal, punctual, and doesn’t argue. Best member of the council so far.”

  Fergus straightened his already immaculate coat, then gave a small bow. “If this is a council, then allow me to begin with proper formality. My lord...”

  Alistair groaned. “Don’t start with the ‘my lord’ thing, Fergus.”

  Fergus blinked, taken aback. “But… you are my lord.”

  “Yes, yes,” Alistair said, waving a hand. “But when you say it like that, I feel like I should be wearing a crown, sipping blood from a goblet, and pretending I know what I’m doing. Which I don’t.”

  “You are wearing a crown...” Fergus muttered looking at the strange crown he had looted during the arena.

  Brimma jabbed her staff against the stone, snorting. “Finally, some honesty.”

  Kael smirked faintly. “Took you long enough to admit it.”

  Alistair dragged a hand down his face. “This is going well. First council meeting, and I’m already being roasted alive. Fantastic precedent.”

  Buddy barked again, loud and sharp, like agreement. His tongue lolled, ember drool splattering the floor.

  Alistair grinned despite himself, ruffling the hellhound’s burning ears. “At least one of you thinks I’m doing fine.”

  He looked up at the others, his smile still crooked but his voice quieter now. “Truth is… I don’t know what I’m doing. Not yet. But I’ve got you lot. That counts for something.”

  For a rare heartbeat, the sarcasm faded.

  Alistair blew out a breath and tapped the crystal. “Fine. Enough jokes. Let’s talk business.”

  Fergus inclined his head, ever the picture of propriety. “The most pressing concern, my lord, is food. Without it, your subjects will weaken. Hunger breeds unrest.”

  Alistair winced. “And we have… none. Fantastic.”

  Kael folded his arms, his green eyes drifting toward the blackened forest beyond the ruined walls. “I can hunt. Even in a blighted wood, some creatures must still endure. If they do, they can be brought down.”

  Brimma snorted, her gnarled staff clacking against the stone. “Or brought back with sickness clinging to their bones. You’d feed the people poison before you fed them meat.”

  Kael shot her a glare. “Better than starving.”

  “Barely,” she rasped.

  Alistair lifted his hands. “Alright, stop measuring your moral compasses at each other. Short term, I might have a solution.” He flicked his fingers, pulling up the translucent window of his dimensional pouch. His inventory spread out before him in faint symbols and numbers.

  “Oh.” His lips tugged into a small smile. “Looks like I’ve got a stash of rations. Stuff I looted during the Arena.” He chuckled under his breath. “Thess nagged me to take them. Said they might come in handy.”

  The memory rose sharp and clear, but instead of pain, it warmed him, filling his chest with fondness. “Guess she was right. As usual.”

  Brimma softened just slightly, her eyes dropping. Then she jabbed her staff again. “But dried meat and hard bread won’t solve the problem.”

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  “No,” Fergus agreed, voice firm but even. “But it buys us time. A little breathing room to address the longer-term solution.”

  Alistair nodded. “Alright. Let’s see what else we’re working with.” He reached out and touched the Founding Crystal.

  The pedestal flared, light pulsing up its veins. Notifications burst to life in the air above it, visible for all to see:

  [Settlement: Neverkneel]

  Population: 73

  Food Stores: 12 days (Rations)

  Shelter: 0 (Temporary Hall Only)

  Resources: None registered

  Morale: High

  A low whistle slipped from Alistair’s lips. “Well. That’s… inspiring.”

  Kael looked around the massive throne room, stone pillars still holding despite the cracks and ruin. “At least we don’t lack shelter. This hall is large enough for them to sleep within.”

  Brimma scoffed. “Pah. Even my hut is nicer than this tomb.”

  Fergus, however, nodded thoughtfully. “It will do for now. But soon we must provide homes. Your subjects are loyal, my lord, but they are still flesh. Productivity and loyalty will plummet without roofs above their heads.”

  “What about resources?” he asked sharply, crimson eyes narrowing.

  “What resources?” Kael countered, his voice sharp. “The ground is dead. The forest is tainted. There’s nothing here to work with.”

  Alistair squinted at the display, swiping at one of the floating icons. The projection shifted, expanding outward. A map unfurled above the crystal, glowing lines sketching the plateau, the mountain peaks, the rivers.

  “Oh,” Alistair murmured. “That’s new.”

  Fergus leaned in, eyes gleaming as the golden light reflected in them. “Interesting…”

  Fergus’s voice cut through the soft hum of the crystal. “Remarkable. The Founding Crystal displays the settlement’s lifeblood so plainly. One would normally need a score of scribes, counters, and tax-collectors to keep such records in order. Yet here it is, offered without error, at a glance. Efficient beyond measure.”

  Alistair barely heard him. He was too busy dragging his fingers across the glowing image above the pedestal. The map shifted under his touch, the luminous lines bending and reshaping. He could tilt it, pull it closer until the rivers swelled like veins before his eyes, or push it further back until the entire plateau and the five mountains framed it in cold blue-white glow.

  Frowning, he noticed the land was split in two. One side, the left half of the plateau, along with three of the mountains and the river curling through its heart, shone in vibrant detail. The other side, by contrast, was muted, dull, like dead parchment.

  Curious, he tapped the vibrant half.

  [Tile Unlocked: Safe Zone]

  The bright border pulsed, drawing a line along the plateau’s edge where the river cut through.

  “Safe zone,” Alistair murmured.

  He tapped the dull side.

  [Unclaimed Territory]

  Condition: Fulfill Settlement Quest to expand.

  Before he could frown too long, another notification flared in his vision.

  [New Quest Acquired]

  Cleanse the Plateau

  Objective: Purge the blighted half of the plateau of hostile monsters.

  Reward: Expansion – 1 Tile Unlocked.

  Failure: Population morale loss. Increased settlement danger.

  Alistair hissed through his teeth. “Great. More chores.” He straightened and told the others what he’d seen.

  Brimma’s eyes narrowed. “Cleanse a land this corrupted? That’s not a chore, boy. That’s a war.”

  Kael gave a sharp nod. “Still… if it can be done, it must be. To leave half the plateau untamed is to wait for the monsters within to come to us.”

  Fergus lifted a hand, his tone crisp but calm. “My lord. May I suggest you enlarge the safe zone again? The claimed territory.”

  Alistair obeyed, spreading the image with his hands until the river plain and the mountains filled the air above the crystal.

  All of them leaned forward.

  Kael narrowed his eyes, pointing. “What are those? Tiny dots scattered through the valleys.”

  Alistair tapped one. A faint script appeared above it.

  [Node Detected]

  Resource: ???

  Another tap.

  [Node Detected]

  Resource: ???

  Dozens of them glimmered across the claimed land, faint marks waiting to be touched.

  Fergus drew in a sharp breath. “Your father would kill for something like this.”

  The words hung heavy.

  Alistair’s smile faded. His expression hardened, serious for once. “Then let’s not tell him.”

  Fergus blinked at him, then inclined his head slowly. “Of course, my lord.”

  The crystal pulsed between them, as if listening.

  Fergus’s crimson eyes lingered on the glowing nodes, sharp and calculating. His voice, when it came, was calm and measured, his court mask back in place. “If the Crystal is displaying these as resources, then each node represents something buried in the land. Stone veins in the mountains. Iron seams. Pockets of mana-rich soil. Perhaps even arable ground where food might be coaxed to grow.”

  Brimma squinted. “Food? In this wasteland?”

  Fergus inclined his head. “The Crystal sees deeper than we do. If it marks a node, there must be potential. Otherwise, it would not register at all.”

  Kael leaned forward, studying the glowing dots. “And once those resources are worked, the people eat. Or build. Or arm themselves.”

  “Precisely,” Fergus said smoothly. “Resources are the bones of a kingdom, my lord. Secure them, and your foundation strengthens. Ignore them, and all else will collapse.”

  Alistair rubbed the back of his neck. “Bones of a kingdom. Fitting, considering who we’ve got living here.” He gestured toward the Caelari still murmuring among themselves.

  Fergus ignored the jab, eyes still fixed on the glowing map.

  Alistair turned back to the pedestal, curiosity gnawing at him. “Alright, let’s see what else this thing can do.” He touched the crystal again, sliding his palm across its smooth surface. The display shifted, cycling through panels.

  [Administrative View]

  Council: Not Established

  Titles: Founder of Neverkneel, Sworn Sovereign

  [Military]

  Standing Army: 0

  Militia Potential: 31 (untrained)

  Defensive Structures: None

  [Research & Craft]

  Current Projects: None

  Available Scholars: 0

  Available Artisans: 5 (Caelari Tinkerers)

  [Faith & Influence]

  Shrines: None

  Divine Favor: Minimal

  Pantheon Awareness: Suppressed

  [Trade & Economy]

  Treasury: 0 Gold

  Trade Routes: None

  Market Activity: None

  [Divine Safeguard]

  Settlement veiled. Hidden from outside detection.

  Duration: 90 Days (3 months)

  At expiration, nearby settlements will be alerted to Neverkneel’s existence.

  Alistair blinked at the text, reading it twice to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “Well. That’s… a lot. Anyone else feel like we just unlocked the world’s most depressing ledger?”

  Brimma leaned closer, squinting. “You’ve got no army, no shrines, no money, no trade, and no research. A kingdom of nothing. Fitting.”

  Kael’s lip twitched, though his eyes remained on the glowing map. “Hidden for three months, you said? That means we have a window. Time to prepare before the world even knows we exist.”

  Fergus’s gaze sharpened. “It is more than a window, my lord. It is protection. Divine protection. Few kingdoms begin with such a grace period. When the veil falls, we will need to be ready. Armies, food, homes, resources. Otherwise…” He spread his thin hands slightly. “We will be crushed before we take our first step.”

  Alistair rubbed the back of his neck, muttering, “So basically: we’ve got three months before the neighbors come knocking. Wonderful.”

  Buddy barked once, tail thumping the stone.

  Alistair gave him a crooked grin. “Yeah, boy. Guess that makes you the army for now.”

  The hellhound huffed proudly, flames leaking from his jaws.

  Alistair grinned and swiped again.

  This time the map shifted outward, showing the plateau in its entirety, then the mountains, then the endless blighted forest below. Beyond that, a faint shimmer of green, far on the horizon.

  Alistair’s eyes narrowed. “So the Crystal doesn’t just manage my people. It sees the world.”

  “Not the world,” Fergus corrected softly. “Your domain. And what it may yet become.”

  Alistair stared at the light pulsing across the stone veins and rivers, the unclaimed land glowing faint and sickly. His hand hovered over it, the urge to touch and test gnawing at him.

  “Guess that makes this thing my kingdom’s beating heart,” he said quietly. “And me the idiot trying to keep it alive.”

  Buddy barked once, as if in agreement.

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