Elion woke to sunlight streaming through temple windows and the smell of porridge cooking somewhere nearby. For a blissful moment, he felt nothing but warmth and comfort. Then memory returned, along with a dull ache in his head and the persistent sensation of being wrung dry like an old washcloth.
The system interface flickered to life in his vision:
╔════════════════════════════════╗ ║ STATUS RECOVERED ║ ╚════════════════════════════════╝ Rest Period Complete Current Mana: 95/120 (Still recovering from overdraft) Shadow Army: 14/50 (All active and on guard duty) Note: Repeated mana overdrafts may result in permanent capacity reduction. Exercise caution.
He sat up slowly, taking inventory. His ribs hurt less—Lyssa's herbs were doing their work. The exhaustion had faded to manageable levels. And through the mental link to his shadows, he could feel them spread throughout the village, standing silent vigil.
"You're awake." Mira entered carrying a bowl of the porridge he'd smelled. She set it on the small table beside his cot and crossed her arms. "Care to explain why you nearly killed yourself last night?"
"The pack leader was too valuable to pass up," Elion said, accepting the bowl and eating mechanically. His body needed fuel, regardless of whether he was hungry. "A knight-rank shadow with enhanced abilities... it could make the difference in future battles."
"It could also make the difference between you being alive or dead." Mira's tone was sharp. "You're no use to anyone if you burn yourself out, Elion. The system warned you about overdraft, didn't it?"
"Yes."
"And you ignored it."
"I made a calculated decision—"
"You made a foolish one," Mira interrupted. Her tails were lashing with agitation. "You're the Baron of Silverwood. The only one who can use these shadow powers. If you die, everything falls apart. Every person depending on you becomes vulnerable. Is that worth one extra soldier?"
Elion set down the bowl, his appetite suddenly gone. "You're right. I'm sorry."
Mira's expression softened slightly. "I'm not trying to scold you like a child. I'm trying to keep you alive long enough to actually save this barony." She sat on the edge of his cot. "You have a powerful gift, Elion. But power without wisdom is just a faster path to destruction."
"I know. I'll be more careful."
"See that you are." She stood. "Now finish eating and get dressed. Elder Marcus wants to thank you properly, and there are matters we need to discuss about the village's defenses."
After Mira left, Elion finished his porridge and dressed in the simple clothes someone had laid out—his own had been torn and bloodstained. He stepped outside to find Millford Village transformed.
The fearful, huddled settlement he'd seen yesterday was gone, replaced by bustling activity. Villagers moved with purpose, reinforcing fences, organizing supplies, practicing with makeshift weapons under Garrick's instruction. Children played in the square, their laughter a stark contrast to yesterday's terror.
And standing at the village's edge, barely visible in the morning shadows, were his soldiers. The shadow scouts were positioned at regular intervals around the perimeter, while the orc warrior stood at the main entrance like a grim sentinel. The dire wolf prowled the forest boundary, its massive form ensuring that nothing approached unnoticed.
Elder Marcus hurried over, his weathered face split by a genuine smile. "Lord Crestfall! You've saved us. Sarah is back with her mother, the wolves are gone... we can't thank you enough."
"I'm glad we arrived in time," Elion said. "But the threat isn't over. The wolves I killed were just one pack. There could be others."
"Which is why we need to talk about permanent defenses," Mira said, joining them. She'd clearly been conferring with the villagers already. "Millford can't rely on the manor's protection alone—it's too far, and we don't have the forces to patrol regularly."
"What do you suggest?"
"A militia. Properly trained and equipped. Twenty men and women who can defend the village and support the barony when needed." Mira gestured at the practicing villagers. "They're willing. They just need leadership and resources."
"Resources we don't have," Elion pointed out.
"Not yet," Mira agreed. "But the dead raiders at the manor... they had weapons, armor, supplies. Crude, but serviceable. And..." She lowered her voice. "You have seven more dire wolf corpses. The pelts alone would fetch a good price at market, and the bones and teeth can be sold to alchemists. It's not a fortune, but it's enough to start equipping a proper militia."
Elion considered. The raider equipment could work—basic gear, but better than farming tools. And selling the wolf parts made sense, though he'd been contemplating extracting more shadows from the remaining corpses.
The system chimed in helpfully:
╔════════════════════════════════╗ ║ STRATEGIC ANALYSIS ║ ╚════════════════════════════════╝ Current Shadow Army: 14/50 (28% capacity) Current Funds: Effectively zero Village Defense Requirement: Estimated 20-30 trained militia Recommendation: Diversify resources. Extract 2-3 additional shadows (priority targets: strongest wolves). Sell remaining corpses for equipment/training funds. This balances military power with economic stability.
"We'll do both," Elion decided. "I'll extract shadows from the two largest wolves, then we'll harvest the rest for sale. The money goes to arming and training the militia. Garrick can lead them—he's got the experience."
"I'll talk to the old war dog," Mira said. "He'll grumble, but he'll do it. He likes these people."
They spent the rest of the morning organizing. Elion returned to the forest clearing—accompanied by Kael, who insisted someone should watch his back—and performed two more extractions. The process was becoming almost routine now, though no less eerie. Two more shadow dire wolves joined his army, smaller than their pack leader but still formidable.
╔════════════════════════════════╗ ║ EXTRACTIONS COMPLETE ║ ╚════════════════════════════════╝ Shadow Soldiers Gained: 2x Shadow Dire Wolf Rank: Infantry (Elite) Current Mana Cost: 15 each Shadow Army Count: 16/50 Remaining Mana: 45/120
The remaining wolf corpses were field-dressed by villagers who knew how to process game. The pelts were magnificent—thick, lustrous fur in shades of gray and silver that would make luxurious cloaks. The bones were massive and dense, perfect for carving or grinding into alchemical components. Even the teeth and claws had value.
"This is easily two hundred gold worth of materials," Marcus said, examining the harvest. "Maybe more if we can get them to the right buyers in the capital."
Two hundred gold would equip and train a militia, with enough left over to repair the manor and stock the barony's depleted coffers. It wasn't wealth, but it was survival.
"Send a wagon with our best trader," Elion instructed. "Sell it all. And Marcus—keep half the money for Millford. Build better defenses, buy proper weapons. The village needs to be able to stand on its own."
Marcus's eyes widened. "My lord, that's generous, but—"
"But nothing. Millford feeds Silverwood. If you fall, we all starve. This is an investment in our mutual survival."
The elder bowed deeply. "We won't forget this, Lord Crestfall."
As the day wore on, Elion found himself actually enjoying the work of organizing the village's defense. It was practical, concrete—so different from the abstract horror of shadow extraction. He walked the perimeter with Garrick, discussing sight lines and patrol routes. He listened to Lyssa's suggestions about using the forest itself as a defensive tool, encouraging certain plants to grow as natural barriers.
It felt like building something instead of just surviving.
That evening, as the sun set and the shadows lengthened, Elion stood at the village edge and watched his shadow army take up their night positions. Sixteen soldiers now—a small force, but growing. The three dire wolves prowled in a wide circle, their enhanced senses detecting threats long before human guards could. The orc warrior led the shadow scouts in precise patrols.
"Quite the sight," Kael said, joining him. The mercenary offered a flask, which Elion accepted. The liquor burned going down, but it was a good burn. "You've built a real army in just two days."
"Sixteen soldiers isn't an army."
"Sixteen undying soldiers who follow your every command? That's worth a hundred normal troops." Kael took the flask back and drank. "You realize what this means, don't you? Word will spread. About the baron who can raise the dead. About shadow warriors that can't be killed."
"I know."
"Some people will see you as a savior. A protector with the power to keep them safe." Kael's expression was unreadable in the gathering dusk. "Others will see you as a threat. A necromancer who could turn his powers against anyone who opposes him."
"Which do you see?"
"Honestly? I'm not sure yet." The mercenary shrugged. "But I'll tell you this much—you've got potential, lordling. You could become something great, or something terrible. Possibly both."
Before Elion could respond, Mira appeared with news. "The wagon's loaded and ready to depart at first light. I've assigned two of the guards to escort it—and four of your shadow scouts, if you're willing. They'll travel hidden, but they'll ensure the wagon reaches the capital safely."
"Done," Elion agreed immediately. The shadow scouts didn't need sleep or food, making them perfect for guard duty. And if anyone tried to rob the wagon, they'd get a very unpleasant surprise.
"There's one more thing," Mira said, her tone suggesting this was the real reason she'd sought him out. "I've been thinking about our long-term strategy."
"And?"
"And we need to abandon the manor."
The words hit Elion like a physical blow. "What? We just defended it two nights ago—"
"Defended it with your shadows and sheer luck," Mira interrupted. "Elion, be realistic. Silverwood Barony is dying. The land is poor, the people are scattered, and we're surrounded by enemies. The manor is a target—a symbol that draws attacks like blood draws wolves."
"So we just... give up? Let everything my family built for three generations collapse?"
"No. We adapt." Mira's eyes were intense. "The world is vast, Elion. There are seas full of unclaimed islands, lesser worlds with resources we can't even imagine. You have power now—real power. Why waste it defending a crumbling barony when you could build something new?"
"You're talking about abandoning our people."
"I'm talking about taking them with us." Mira gestured back toward the village. "Look at Millford. You saved them, and now they're loyal to you personally, not to some abstract concept of nobility. Imagine a dozen villages like this, all united under your protection. A fleet of ships, a chain of islands, a kingdom built on merit and defended by shadows. That's what you could create."
Elion stared at her, his mind reeling. Abandon Silverwood? Leave behind everything he'd known? The idea was both terrifying and strangely liberating.
"You've been planning this," he said.
"Since the moment I saw what you could do." Mira's smile was fierce. "I've spent twenty years watching this barony decay, knowing there was nothing I could do to stop it. But now? Now we have options."
"I need time to think."
"Of course. But think quickly, my lord. The longer we stay, the more vulnerable we become."
Mira left, and Elion was alone with his thoughts and his shadows. Below, Millford Village settled into its evening routine, secure in the knowledge that shadow warriors stood watch.
For the first time since his father's death, Elion allowed himself to imagine a future that wasn't just about survival. A future where he wasn't a failing baron clinging to a dying legacy, but something new. Something he could build himself.
The system chimed:
╔════════════════════════════════╗ ║ NEW QUEST AVAILABLE ║ ╚════════════════════════════════╝ Quest: Foundations of Empire Description: Make a decision about Silverwood Barony's future Options: A) Defend and rebuild (Traditional path) B) Abandon and migrate (Exploration path) Note: This is a major decision point that will significantly affect future progression. Choose carefully. Reward: Depends on choice made Time Limit: 30 days
Thirty days to decide the fate of everything he'd ever known.
No pressure at all.