After eight hours of sleep, Lucan woke to find the shelter's wall pressing against his back.
Rough-hewn stone and wood bound by rope—makeshift, yet still standing. A minor miracle. At least it hadn't collapsed during the night.
He sat up, checked that his sword was still by his side, and felt for the locket tucked into his shirt. Both were there. Good enough.
Pushing open the crude door, he stepped outside into the pale morning light. The wind carried the scent of damp earth and ash.
The others were already at work.
Nors was sweeping the area with a bundle of stiff branches. Kenny, the teenager, was carrying buckets of water from somewhere—'Lucan wasn't sure where.'
Daria stacked chopped wood by the firepit, prepping for the cold night ahead.
'Just a few days ago, servants woke me up with scented towels and warmed water, a luxury I took for granted. I never had to think about food or firewood. Now, the rough fabric of my clothes chafed, and the chill of the morning reminded me of the constant grind ahead.' He watched them move with tired purpose.
'Now, these people aren't servants. But they could be workers. A team.'
His thoughts drifted to the screen's message from the night before—something about establishing a food supply. Water too, clearly. His current stock might last a few days, maybe.
Lucan walked toward Nors and Kenny. The old man noticed him first.
"Lord, you've woken," Nors said. "I was going to call for you if you hadn't stirred soon."
Lucan waved it off. "I'm fine. I wake when I need to."
"Of course, Lord."
Lucan got straight to it. "Is there anywhere we can get clean water? I've only got a few days' worth left."
Nors's expression shifted. "There's only one real water source nearby, Lord. A stream runs from the northeast to the southwest. But it comes from the Cursed Lands. That water… it's no good. Everything from there is tainted. Water, air, monsters, trees."
Lucan's gaze instinctively flickered towards the ominous eastern horizon, where the Cursed Lands lay shrouded, a grim promise in Nors's words.
He then turned to Kenny. "How much can you get from that?"
"Only about three buckets' worth before it dries out," the boy replied. "But since it's the rainy season, there's a storm every three or four days."
'If we had a way to store more… or collect it properly. Something like a giant bucket. A collector.'
As if reading his mind, the screen shimmered into view:
[Blueprint: Rain Collector Available]
[Status: Basic / Material Cost: Wood x15, Stone x10]
[Effect: Passively collects rainwater; impure filtration tier]
Lucan raised an eyebrow. 'That's twice now the screen's reacted to my thoughts.'
Still, he didn't question it. Not right now. He tapped the blueprint. A rough design appeared—simple, functional, doable.
Nors and Kenny stared as he studied the floating image, unsure whether to speak. Lucan noticed their silence.
'They'll think I'm standing here daydreaming.'
"I found something that might help collect rainwater," Lucan said. "Can you help me build it?"
"Lord," Nors said immediately, his voice firm with renewed purpose, "you gave us food and shelter. If we can't help with this, what are we good for?"
Lucan nodded. "Good. I'll need wood and stone—like this." He gestured with his hands, showing the size and shape. "If you find any rope, bring that too."
Lucan, Nors, and Kenny gathered the materials and returned to the worksite. The three of them stood by the pile of supplies, waiting for Lucan's next move.
Lucan positioned himself near the wood, then looked to the others. "Hand me what I ask for when I ask for it. Simple."
Together, they began construction. The thump of stones, the creak of wood, the focused grunts of effort from Nors and Kenny, and the steady rattle of Lucan's rope-tying.
It wasn't elegant, but it was efficient, a harmony of rough materials coming together. Nors and Kenny followed instructions without question, occasionally exchanging glances as the structure took shape.
Eventually, Kenny spoke up. "This'll collect the rain, won't it?"
Lucan didn't answer. He just stood back and let out a quiet breath. "Finished."
As if to confirm it, the screen flashed:
[Rain Collector Constructed]
[+5 LP Gained]
[+30 CP Gained]
[Effect: Passively collects rainwater; impure filtration tier]
"…CP?" Lucan muttered.
He tapped the screen again. A summary appeared, listing the point values of previous constructions:
[Firepit: +25]
[Shelters (x2): +50]
[Rain Collector: +30]
[Total CP: 225 → 255]
'So that's 155 from things I built… but there's another 100 I didn't account for. Maybe a welcome bonus? A starting gift for new lords?'
Still curious, Lucan thought, 'What is CP, exactly?'
The screen responded instantly:
[Crafting Points (CP): Represent your hands-on skill and effort in the world. Earned through crafting items, building structures, or doing practical work. CP can be used to unlock advanced recipes, improve gear, speed up production, or purchase rare items.]
'So CP is… effort made tangible. Useful down the line. But for some reason, I don't think I can spend it just yet.'
He dismissed the screen and turned to Nors and Kenny, both of whom now wore cautious smiles.
"Well," Lucan said, "we can drink now. That's a start."
Then he straightened up. "Old man—Nors—let's gather more materials. Wood, stone, rope if you find any. Stack it near my shelter. We'll meet at the fire when the sun starts to fall."
Nors gave a slight bow. "Yes, Lord. As you say."
Kenny echoed him with a quiet, "Yes, Lord," before they headed off.
Lucan glanced up at the cloudy sky, then at the forest edge.
'Clean water, two shelters, firepit, and a team. Not much… but it's more than nothing.'
Evening settled in.
One by one, everyone gathered around the fire. Lucan was already there. Old man Nors arrived next, Kenny walking beside him.
Then came Daria, gently guiding Alian while Evan shuffled along, leaning on his wife so he wouldn't fall.
They formed a rough circle around the fire. The flames crackled softly, casting dancing shadows across tired faces.
Lucan was the first to speak, giving each of them a nod—except Evan, who sat off to the side. Not out of scorn, but because Evan simply couldn't do much in his condition.
Lucan observed the effort it took just for Evan to sit. 'He would help if he could. Once he's treated properly, maybe he still can.'
"Other than Evan," Lucan began, his voice firm but not unkind, "you've all done a good job today. Nors, you cleaned the grounds. Kenny fetched water. Daria and Alian gathered firewood. I appreciate that. Helping others isn't easy, especially when you're just trying to survive yourselves."
He leaned in slightly, his tone shifting. "Now, I want to know—what were you all doing before I came here? Before this place was destroyed?"
The fire crackled, and the air grew tense. Silence held for a few seconds as they exchanged uncertain glances, their shoulders hunching slightly. Eventually, Daria spoke up.
"When we lived here," she began softly, "I used to pick fruit—whatever was edible. Herbs, vegetables, wild onions. I did odd jobs around the town to earn a few coins when we were short. One day, Evan found me working. After a while, we… fell in love."
She smiled faintly and looked toward her husband.
"He introduced me to his father, and not long after, we got married. Our first son was born soon after—it was one of the happiest days of my life. Then came Alian. But things changed when the monsters grew bolder. More dangerous. Most people either died or fled to other regions. We were among the few who stayed. Many didn't survive. We were lucky. We've just been holding on ever since."
Lucan watched her as she spoke. 'Even in all this ruin, she still cares about him. Their love didn't break under pressure—it held firm.'
He turned to Nors next. The old man seemed hesitant, unsure what to say to a noble, but under Lucan's steady gaze, he spoke.
"I was a carrier, Lord. Mostly timber and construction materials. When Evan told me about Daria, I supported them. Before that, I did basic carpentry, patching up homes before storms hit. Not as fine as a craftsman's work, but solid. And because I carried things for so long, I'm used to hauling weight—logs, tools, whatever needs moving."
Lucan nodded once, then looked to Evan.
The man was bundled in worn cloth, his skin pale and clammy from fever. He saw Lucan's eyes on him and sighed, knowing it was his turn.
"I used to fix broken doors, loose boards—basic repairs. Not forging blades like a dwarf or anything," Evan said, his voice rough and shallow with effort.
"When I met Daria, life didn't get easier, but it got… fuller. I had more to live for. I wasn't just waiting for my father to come home anymore. I had a wife. Sons."
He shifted uncomfortably, wincing.
"Then the monsters came. Everything changed. I didn't have enough clothes to keep warm—ended up with a fever. And then I injured my leg. Let the wound stay exposed too long. It got infected. It's better now, slightly… but still bad enough that I can't walk right."
Lucan studied him closely.
'If he recovers, that's one more pair of hands. One more man to help build. It's worth trying.'
"Is there a way to treat the fever?" Lucan asked. He hadn't meant to say it aloud, but it slipped out before he could stop himself.
Evan met his eyes. "If I can get clean water and if Daria can find some healing herbs, the fever might pass. But the infection… that's harder. I'd need a healing potion or some strong antidote. Maybe even a rare herb—but we don't know what to look for. None of us are herbalists."
He paused, then added, "I don't want to be a burden, Lord. If there's anything I can do in return, I will."
Lucan didn't reply. He just stared into the fire for a moment, deep in thought.
'I'll check the screen later. Maybe it has a blueprint or recipe for medicine. Even a clue.'
As Evan finished, the two boys beside Daria perked up,
fidgeting slightly. They'd been waiting for their turn to speak.
Lucan's eyes moved from Evan to Kenny, and then to Alian. He gave Kenny a look—calm but direct.