The word was large, filling the screen. Lucan opened his mouth, swallowed, and said,
"Status."
It was just one word, but the impact was significant. After he said it, a new screen appeared, with all the prompts on a single page.
[Territory Lord System]
[Territory Name: Not Named]
[Tier (1): Hamlet-Holder]
[Owned Land: 3,200 acres (approx. 13 km²)]
[Population: 9, 1 Not Accepted]
[Vitality Rating: Minimal]
[Threat Level: Low]
[Moral Presence: Good]
[Current Points]
[LP (Land Points): 25]
[CP (Crafting Points): 525]
Lucan slowly realized the significance of what he was seeing. This wasn't just a screen; it was a system for his new life.
Pushing aside any lingering bad thoughts, he began to speak to it. "You said you didn't have a name," he mused. "I didn't think much about it then, but what do I name you now? You'll be with me in the future and you're with me in the present."
He continued in an excited tone, "This territory is a wasteland, just pure garbage. But I'm handling it and I'll probably make it better. So, a fitting name, one that means new life or paradise... hmm... hmm..."
After a moment of thought, he decided on a name. "Let's call you 'Elysian.' That will be truly good for you." As soon as he said the word, the system changed. The name was no longer "Not Named," but Elysian.
"So, the name has been set. Now, show me the daily summary for today." The screen shifted, showing both the system's status and the daily report.
[Daily Report – Day 8]
[Population: 9, 1 Not Accepted]
[LP: 25]
[CP: 525]
[Threat Level: Low-Mid]
Lucan pondered the report. "Okay, this is the second time it's said '1 Not Accepted,'" he said to himself. "The two hunters were added, so who could the other one be? It's probably that swordsman. I don't know why, but looks like he's still here."
Lucan then gestured with his hand to see if the screen would disappear, and it did. He lay down on his leaf bed, slowly closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
***
The Next Morning
Lucan awoke to the familiar light filtering into his small home. He no longer called it a shelter; since he began living there, it had become his home.
As he got up and walked out, he saw the others already at work. Marcus and Elias were chatting with Nors, with Kenny close by.
Lucan's morning routine was the same every day. Alian would come to help him wash his face, and then he would begin his work for the day.
As he walked toward his washing place, Nors and the others greeted him with a chorus of "Good Morning, Lord!" Lucan returned the greeting with a "Good Morning," and they continued their work.
He reached for the bucket, cleaned his face with the water, and felt a sense of clarity. "Now, I am feeling good," he said to himself.
He then walked toward the group. Seeing him approach, they straightened their backs, ready for the day's tasks. They knew they would be building more shelters, but getting information from Lucan was never a bad thing.
"So, everyone's gathered here," Lucan announced, stopping just a step away from them. "Then let's begin."
"Yes, Lord, what do we need to do today?" Nors asked. Everyone else remained quiet, but Nors was always the one to start the conversation.
"Looks like you're really eager to build some shelters, Nors," Lucan said, his voice carrying a youthful tone that made Nors feel young again.
"Yes, Lord," Nors replied. "When you got the feeling that some people were coming, I got the same feeling that more people would arrive. It would be bad if they didn't have a place to stay, so that's why I want to build as soon as possible." Both of them had the same feeling, but neither knew who would come. So, not wanting to discuss it further, Lucan gave them their instructions.
"First, we need to build four shelters today," Lucan instructed. "If they get completed fast, then that's good. If not, it's not like I'm forcing you, okay?"
"Yes, Lord!" Nors and Kenny responded in unison.
"Yes, Sir Lucan!" Marcus and Elias said at the same time.
And with that, they began their work, and everything proceeded as it should.
***
Afternoon
In the past and even now, this land was a wasteland. But something had changed. People now lived here, some of them working, others exhausted.
Ten shelters stood tall, five on the left side and five on the right, arranged around a space where an office would eventually be built.
On some stones in front of the shelters, several people sat, huffing and puffing, clearly exhausted from their work. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the air.
"Hah..."
"Hah..."
"Hahhh..."
It was Kenny, Nors, Marcus, Elias, and Lucan, all of them looking at the shelters. In front of them was water, brought by Alian, but they were too tired to drink it.
After a few moments, their heavy breathing subsided, and they all reached for the water.
"Ah... that was just too hard, not like before," Lucan said, drinking from a cup with one hand and wiping water droplets from his face with the other. For him, this was difficult work, as it was not something he did every day. "Now we just need to wait for people to settle here."
"Lord, are you feeling tired already?" Nors asked, noticing Lucan's exhaustion. "I'm not even feeling it."
Lucan didn't reply, and the other three remained silent as well. Seeing this, Nors stayed quiet, too. Then, Lucan suddenly said, "Look, they've come." He pointed to the fence, and everyone turned to see two people approaching.
One was a tall, built man with dark hair. His body was imposing, though not quite that of a giant. Behind him was a slim and beautiful woman with blonde hair.
Both had a hammer tucked into their belts and a bag on their backs. From their appearance, only Nors and Lucan could guess that they were blacksmiths, and judging by their easy closeness, they were likely a couple or close friends, but not siblings.
As they slowly walked toward the group, the questions they held would soon be spoken
***
Fifteen minutes ago
Two people were walking on a broken road, surrounded by the ruins of demolished buildings.
They had arrived two days earlier and, not knowing what else to do, had simply walked day and night.
They were unaware that just a short distance away lay a built fence, several shelters, and a fire.
The woman, a slim figure, spoke up. "How many days have we been walking? There isn't a single intact building here, not a single human."
The man, a great build befitting a blacksmith, replied, "I know, but what can we do? We can only keep walking like this. If there are people left living here, we can get help from them. And Elara, don't you think you need to stop holding my hand?" The man, Ronan, was getting uncomfortable holding her hand while walking, but Elara just held on tighter.
"Oh, Ronan, do you not love me anymore?" Elara teased.
"I was just getting tired, so I wanted to hold hands. If we're going to die, we'll die holding hands. Besides, you're the one who's not letting go of my hand." It seemed they were husband and wife, with the wife playfully teasing her husband as they walked slowly toward the fence.
"Leave it, Elara," Ronan said, giving up. "I don't think we'll find any human beings here. The only things we'll find are beasts or nothing at all. But don't worry, you will protect me—ah, sorry, I will protect you."
"Yes, that's right," Elara said, a hint of a smile in her angry expression. "You need to protect me, not the other way around. For a second, I thought you really wanted me to protect you."
As they talked and walked, Ronan's eyes suddenly widened. At first, he rubbed his eyes, thinking he was seeing things.
But when he opened them again, nothing had changed. He was shocked, not by a beast, but by the sight of Lucan's group sitting calmly by a fire.
Elara, wondering what had happened to her husband, followed his gaze. She, too, was stunned to see more than six people sitting there, chatting happily with food in their hands.
"Ronan, am I seeing what I think I'm seeing?" Elara asked, also rubbing her eyes in disbelief. To them, it was too shocking to believe.
They were in a wasteland where only bandits, beasts, or criminals came to hide or attack, yet these people looked different.
They didn't look like bandits or criminals at all. They looked healthy and well-fed, and the hunters with them didn't bother Ronan or Elara in the slightest.
"Yes, Elara, I'm also seeing it," Ronan confirmed. "I didn't think there would really be people living here. What do you think? Should we go toward them and see what they're doing? Just by looking at them, I can tell they're not bandits. You know how I handle all types of customers. I can easily tell who's who based on their personality and behavior." He took his hand out of Elara's and began walking slowly toward the group, with Elara following close behind.
"Yes, we need to go there," Elara agreed. "Even if we don't, is there any better option we can think of?"
"Okay, let's go," Ronan said.
***
As they walked, Lucan and the others saw them approaching.
"What do you think they're here for, Nors?" Lucan asked, turning to the older man beside him.
"Lord, from what I can tell, they're probably here for some of the ores found in this wasteland," Nors explained. "I've heard rumors that there's an ore here that's harder than steel. If it were used to make a weapon, no other weapon could stand against it. It's blue, and its name is something like Somanite. The name is simple, but its hardness is unmatched."
Lucan had a different idea, which was influenced by the system's message:
[2 New Members Detected]
[Waiting For Them to be Accepted]
Because of this, Lucan was certain the two were here to join them. He said, "I don't think they're here for some ore."
Nors was about to reply, but the blacksmiths were now only about five steps away, so he remained silent. Lucan stood and slowly walked toward them, with Kenny and the others watching from their seats.
Lucan wanted to let them join, not just because of a feeling, but because of the system's encouraging prompts:
[Blacksmith Profession Detected in this Wasteland]
[You can purchase the ore and raw material in the normal store if you let the blacksmiths join you]
From any perspective, Lucan couldn't ignore this. There were three key reasons:
First, the system said it needed them.
Second, Lucan was limited to making only wooden tools and scraps.
Third, with them, the tools they crafted would help the group grow even more.
Lucan stood in front of the blacksmiths and greeted them politely. "Hello, so you two are?" It was a question, but it was also a direct request for their names.
Taking the hint, Ronan replied, "Sir, my name is Ronan Stoneward." He then gestured to the woman beside him. "And this here is my wife, Elara Stoneward."
"And, sir, your name?" Ronan asked.
"Oh... my name is Lucan," he replied. "So, Ronan and Elara, why are you two here? From your appearance, it looks like you're both blacksmiths, but blacksmiths are usually in their workshops. What are you doing out here?" It was a good question, as it seemed unlikely for them to be in a place like this.
"Ah... it's not like we wanted to be here, sir," Ronan began, explaining their situation. "We just got lost in this place and have been walking for two straight days to see if there were any people living here. We didn't actually think we'd find anyone."
"Do you really mean you walked for two days straight without eating? Or did you eat something along the way?" Lucan inquired.