Kenny sat in silence, thinking hard about what to say. When Lucan's gaze landed on him, he straightened his back and took a deep breath.
"I just helped Mom with housework," he said, his voice a little uncertain.
"Not much else. But after the monsters came, I started using a knife to get meat from the monsters we hunted—to survive. My grandpa taught me how. He thought it'd be useful to have someone extra to help out. I ended up liking it, so I learned more."
He glanced around, maybe expecting someone to praise him for it—after all, not every teen could say they'd cleaned and butchered monster meat.
But no one said anything, and Kenny gave a quick, almost imperceptible shrug, his expression settling into a quiet understanding.
Lucan then looked toward the youngest—Alian. The boy was sitting close to Daria, tugging gently at her clothes, shy and unsure.
When he realized it was his turn, he shrank a little, tucking his chin to his chest, his eyes flicking nervously from his mom to Lucan.
Daria placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Her voice was soft and warm, the kind of tone only a mother could manage. "Go on, sweetie. The Lord is just asking. You can tell him."
Alian nodded quickly and said, "I was just living with my mom and brother Kenny. I didn't really do much, but… but when the monsters came, I helped make the sitting spot better. I did some digging. That was easy. I can carry small stuff too—light things. And I can help Lord if he wants…"
His voice trailed off at the end, as if unsure if that counted for anything. Lucan watched them all, listening closely—not just to the words, but to the weight behind them.
'They had once been a normal family. A simple, happy life in a house of their own. Now, they slept wherever they could, did whatever it took just to survive. Not because they failed—but because the world had failed them. It wasn't their fault.'
'Lucan had hoped, maybe, that he'd stumbled upon a noble family in hiding. But these weren't nobles. They were commoners. Still, they were kind, eager to help, treating him with respect—not because of his title, but because he treated them decently in return.'
He glanced at the rough shelter they'd built together. Then back at the family.
"It's a good thing," he said finally, his voice low but clear enough for all to hear, "that you're still able to help… even after all that's happened. Because of that, now I'm here. Eating with you. Living nearby."
He paused, eyes on the fire.
"Sometimes I wonder—why do nobles look down on commoners? If monsters come for us, it doesn't matter who we are. Nobles die just the same. And yet, here I am, being helped by people I was told were beneath me."
Lucan's eyes rose again, steady and thoughtful. For a moment, he felt a flicker of uncertainty. Had he said too much?
"I want to build something. Something lasting. Something that could stand beside what my father made. I thought I needed only nobility to do that. But maybe… maybe with people like yourselves, it can actually happen. But it'll just take time."
For a moment, no one spoke. The crackle of the fire filled the quiet. The adults exchanged glances, surprised by Lucan's words.
'Could a noble really think like this?' their eyes seemed to ask. But the meaning behind his words rang clear enough—at least to the grown-ups. The children didn't fully grasp it, but they could feel it. Respect. Trust. Hope.
Unknowingly, Lucan had said something more than just words. Something that, to them, made him a real leader. Even if he hadn't meant it that way.
Old man Nors glanced at Lucan, his expression unreadable, though a quiet thought crossed his mind:
'Lord Lucan is… a born leader.'
Daria's gaze lingered on the fire as she thought,
'Lord Lucan thought like this? It's a good thing he changed for us. For the better.'
Evan looked at the young noble and thought,
'He speaks well for a boy… but if he means it, then that's something even better.'
Kenny stared at Lucan, a new light in his eyes.
'He's not like the fat-pig lords from before. He's handsome… and kind.'
And Alian, the smallest of them, glanced up at his mother, then back to Lucan, his little fists clenched with resolve. 'I'll help Lord as much as I can. If a Lord is happy, our family will be happy too.'
Soon, their talk shifted. Nothing too serious. Just little things—what they'd done that day, whether anyone found something new, if the water had boiled well or if someone had spotted smoke on the horizon.
But under it all, something had changed. A sense of unity. Of belonging. Not just survivors anymore.
Lucan, after chatting with the others for a while, finally headed into his shelter.
He lay down on the makeshift bed, staring at the wooden ceiling above, his sword beside him. He thought about the day—how things were changing, slowly but surely.
As he was lost in thought, the familiar screen floated up next to him, text glowing in the dim light.
[Daily Report – Day 2]
[Population: 6]
[Structures: 4]
[LP: 17]
[CP: 255]
[Morale: Stable]
[Threat Level: Low-Mid]
Lucan stared at the numbers, feeling a quiet satisfaction rise in him. It wasn't much yet, but it was something.
With that, he closed his eyes, his breathing steady, and drifted into a peaceful sleep beneath the ceiling of rough wood.
Next Morning
Lucan woke up groggy, blinking up at the wooden planks overhead. His hair was a mess, and his body felt stiff from the rough bed.
He got up, stretching until his muscles ached a satisfying protest, then stepped outside, the cool morning air carrying the scent of damp earth and woodsmoke, sharp against his senses.
The others were already moving about, working like they did yesterday. He looked around at the few things they'd built—a shelter, a fire pit, a rain collector. It wasn't much, but it felt like progress.
Lucan rubbed his face clean with some water, ran his hands through his hair, and tried to straighten his clothes. No bath, of course—there wasn't exactly a bathhouse out here. Yet. Maybe someday.
He sat near the fire on a flat stone, watching the others as they worked. Then, like it was waiting for him, the screen appeared again with a quick flash.
[Crafting Points Accumulated: 255]
[New Feature Unlocked: Normal Store – Tier 1]
[Blueprint purchase now available. Selection advised.]
Lucan froze. A store? His curiosity flared.
"If this is just Tier 1… then there's probably more. This could be something big. Not just simple blueprints, but a way to truly rebuild, to get advanced tools, maybe even forgotten knowledge, if the tiers went high enough."
He tapped the glowing screen, and it shifted to a new list:
[Cabin – 100 CP]
[Wooden Fence – 80 CP]
[Stone Well – 200 CP]
[Storage Crate – 50 CP]
His eyes were drawn immediately to the storage crate. If water spilled from the rain collector, no big deal—rain would fill it again.
But food? If it went bad, got spoiled, or was stolen by animals… they were done for. A storage crate was necessary.
Then his gaze shifted to the wooden fence. If monsters—or even wild beasts—wandered into their space, there was nothing to stop them.
A fence wouldn't make them invincible, but it could make them look stronger than they were. Maybe even keep danger away.
He tapped both options.
[You have purchased Wooden Fence and Storage Crate blueprints]
[CP Spent: 130]
[Remaining CP: 125]
[Note: Don't purchase blueprints if you don't have the materials to build them]
Lucan raised an eyebrow. "Thanks for the warning… I guess?" This screen was helpful, sure, but still mysterious. He didn't fully trust it—but he wasn't about to turn down free help either.
'And another thing? Lucan loved the idea of a shop.' He was a craftsman at heart—used to trading in gold, silver, and copper. 'Still, you couldn't buy the materials. Not yet anyway.' A new kind of currency. One that opened doors.
Lucan stood up and headed off to find Kenny and Old Man Nors. Time to get building.
Old Man Nors was clearing the area as usual when he noticed Lucan approaching. Straightening up, he called out, "Lord, you looking for something to put me to work on?"
Lucan smiled. 'He was just about to say the same thing, but Nors had beaten him to it.'
"Yeah, actually," Lucan replied. "Where's Kenny? I haven't seen him around. Did he go to fetch water?"
"Yes, Lord," Nors nodded. "Went to the stream a while ago. What did you need?"
"I was thinking we need a proper place to store food," Lucan said seriously. "If we don't, it's just going to rot or get stolen."
"I had the same thought," Nors admitted. "But I didn't have a way to make it happen. If you do, I'm ready to help."
Lucan nodded. "Also, I think we need a fence—just around the shelter. It won't cover everything, but at least it's a start."
"That'd be smart," Nors agreed. "We'll need a lot of wood, though. Good, solid wood. There's still some tools in the office we can use—two shovels, three axes, and a few others."
"Great," Lucan said. "But I'll need Kenny to start digging where we'll put the fence. Once he's at it, you and I can go gather the wood."
"Oh, so that's why you were looking for my grandson," Nors said, chuckling a little. "It's good for him to learn. But, Lord, are you sure you want to go yourself? I can manage on my own."
Lucan met his eyes. "Why not? Because I'm noble?" He gave a small laugh. "I left that title behind when I came here. I'm just a man trying to build something real. If I help, we get wood faster—and I get some company too."
Nors gave a small smile, a genuine warmth spreading across his weathered face. "If you say so, Lord. It's not every noble who'd get his hands dirty, let alone seek out company in the wilderness."
Lucan then marked the area for the storage crate, drawing lines in the dirt with his sword. He also outlined where the fence would go, making it clear for Kenny to dig.
Later, when Kenny returned, Lucan explained the digging plan.
It would take two, maybe three days to get it all done—but that was fine.
Lucan didn't mind being busy. Busy meant building.
Busy meant moving forward.