The battlefield had fallen silent. The stench of blood clung to the air, corpses buried, trenches filled. The Nord Kingdom's army was no more.
In Gavin Ward's mind, however, another battlefield came alive.
> [Kill Value Calculation in Progress…]
The numbers ticked upward like the heartbeat of a machine:
Sky Mage slain: 1,000 kill points
Twelve magicians (including Ragnar): 3,600 kill points
Three great knights: 1,500 kill points
1,200 knights: 12,000 kill points
Ordinary soldiers: 46,870 kill points
[Total Kill Value: 64,970]
> [Reward unlocked: One 5-star Lucky Draw]
Gavin raised an eyebrow as he scanned the list. "Only 1,000 points for a sky mage? And a magician is worth barely 300?" He muttered. "That's cheap. Even a great knight is only 500, and ordinary knights worth ten each… it seems the system values quantity of kills over the so-called prestige of magic."
He smirked. "As for soldiers… not much value individually, but thousands at once make quite the reward."
---
As the army marched back toward Kiswell's capital, Gavin pulled open the invisible interface of his system. Four glowing options shimmered in the air only he could see:
[Lucky Draw]
[Mall]
[Military Technology Tree]
[Civil Technology Tree]
Kill value: 66,648
Popularity: 32,450
He checked his leftover balance from previous purchases—1,678 kill points. Yes, the numbers matched. The popularity value, meanwhile, continued to rise like a river overflowing its banks.
---
Gavin's thoughts sharpened.
The Kingdom of Talos, small and weak, had barely 500,000 citizens. The Nord Kingdom, before its crushing defeat, had over 3 million. Lot boasted a population of nearly 6 million. Kiswell itself had more than 2.5 million.
"If I can unite these three," Gavin mused, his eyes gleaming, "I'll rule over more than 12 million people."
Twelve million subjects. Twelve million pairs of hands to build factories, forge weapons, and march as soldiers.
The massive Tongsley Empire, bloated with hundreds of squabbling states, would be vulnerable. Gavin would not conquer it with magic, but with relentless industry. One country at a time, his steel would eat away at their borders.
"The war potential of technology is unlimited."
And he had his system. Each war gave him more kill points. More kill points meant more weapons. More weapons meant more victories. His machine of conquest would feed itself.
As for the common people of those conquered lands? Gavin knew they would bend easily. "Most peasants are ignorant. They do not care who rules them—only that they eat. Give them bread, give them a better life, and they will kneel gladly."
He could see it already: schools rising, factories smoking, the people working not under nobles but under his new order. "Why would anyone starve under feudal lords when they can thrive under me?"
---
The system chimed again.
> [This Week's Mall Refresh]
Bazooka blueprints: 15,000
Internal Combustion Engine blueprints: 20,000
"Nimitz"-class aircraft carrier with fighter group: 15,000,000
Messerschmitt BF109 fighter design: 300,000
Mid-20th-century teacher corps with textbooks (500 instructors): 30,000
Gavin nearly laughed aloud. "An aircraft carrier? BF109 fighters? If only I had the points." His eyes burned with hunger as he stared at the items. The air carrier was a dream, far beyond his current means. But the internal combustion engine? That he could afford.
"Step by step, Gavin," he murmured. "You cannot devour a feast in one bite. But the engine… the engine is the keystone."
The internal combustion engine would transform everything. Cars, trucks, and later, tanks. Even the aircraft of the last great wars in his old world had relied upon them. It was the true leap beyond steam.
But there was a problem. Engineers. Real talent. So far, Gavin had only the hundred specialists purchased early on from the system. The workers in Rose City could manage simple assembly lines, but the advanced work of tanks and aircraft demanded minds of genius.
"Engineers…" Gavin clenched his fist. "That is what I lack most."
---
Still, he wasted no time. He purchased the bazooka blueprints, the internal combustion engine blueprints, and—most importantly—the teacher corps of five hundred with full textbooks.
"Schools," Gavin said with satisfaction. "We will educate the next generation. If half of Kiswell is still in feudal darkness, I'll drag them into the light. An industrial nation cannot exist without literacy."
After the purchases, his kill points dropped to just over 1,600. Nearly empty. But his smile never faltered.
"It's worth it. Every point."
The five-star lucky draw? He saved it. He always saved them in games. The longer the wait, the sweeter the reward.
---
Turning to the Civil Technology Tree, Gavin noted his people's "livelihood value"—32,000 and climbing. The branches of progress glowed faintly before him:
Alternating Current
Basic Electronics
Looms
Steelmaking
Glassmaking
Artificial Leather
Plastic Cloth
Then his eyes caught one glowing leaf that burned brighter than the rest:
Hybrid Rice — 20,000 livelihood points.
Gavin's heart leapt. "Food… This will change everything."
Without hesitation, he activated it. The tree shimmered, confirming the purchase.
"With hybrid rice, harvests will double. No famine. No hunger. The people will love me."
A strong military was built not only on steel, but on bread. With food security, Kiswell's population would boom, fueling his factories and his armies alike.
---
Two days later, the march back to Rose City ended. Gavin rode at the head of his column, his soldiers in perfect ranks behind him.
He grimaced at the slow progress. Two days for such a distance? Too long. "We need cars," he muttered. "Trucks. The march of steel must be swifter than the march of men."
But as the city walls rose into view, his mood shifted. The sound of cheering reached his ears, a tidal wave of voices.
"Long live the King! Long live His Majesty Gavin Ward!"
The gates opened, and the people surged forward, their cries filling the air with fervor. Flowers were thrown, banners waved.
The King who had crushed an army of one hundred thousand and returned without a single casualty now entered his capital in triumph.
The people's belief was absolute. Gavin did not need magic. He had given them something far greater: victory, safety, and the promise of a future.
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