Leona did not sleep. While the hundred exhausted refugees finally succumbed to the profound peace of the Kingdom, she worked. By the time the golden "dawn" light brightened, she had produced three separate lists on bark-paper, each in her neat, cramped handwriting.
Kazuto found her at the central fire, sipping Ban's mint tea, the lists laid out before her like a general's battle plans.
"Report," she said, the moment she saw him. No greeting. All business. "List one: immediate skills inventory. We have the two carpenters, the tanner, et cetera. More importantly, we have a potter. Crucial for storage. List two: resource triage. Our most critical shortage is not food—it's salt. The goblins trade for it, but their source is limited. We need a reliable supply. List three: potential internal conflicts. Three of the refugees are from rival ash-towns. Old grudges. They're currently too tired to fight, but the potential is there."
She handed him the lists. She looked exhausted, but her eyes were clear and sharp.
"You should rest," Kazuto said.
"I rest when the system is stable. Currently, the system is a hundred confused people sleeping on rocks." She stood up. "My first administrative act: we are implementing a work-ticket system. Labor earns tickets. Tickets exchange for food rations, priority for better housing, and eventually, other goods. It is fair, transparent, and prevents freeloading."
It was a brilliant, coldly efficient idea. It also sounded like corporate HR in a fantasy apocalypse. "Alright. Implement it."
She gave a sharp nod and marched off towards the waking refugees, a stick of charcoal and a new piece of bark in hand.
Kazuto's morning was spent on the northern cave system—now officially "Housing Block Alpha" per Leona's designation. Doom and Balmond were there, assessing the stability of the largest chamber.
"It's sound," Doom said, thumping a wall. "But the entrance is too narrow. A bottleneck. Needs widening."
Balmond hefted his axe. "Stand back."
Before Kazuto could suggest a more controlled method, Balmond took a practice swing, gauging the space, then unleashed a controlled, powerful chop at the edge of the cave mouth. Chunks of rock splintered away.
The problem was, Balmond's idea of "controlled" was still enough to shake the entire hillside. A deep crack splintered up the wall from his strike, and with a groan, several tons of overhead rock collapsed inward, completely sealing the entrance in a cloud of dust.
Doom coughed, waving dust away. "Or you could do that. Now we have a bigger bottleneck. Made of solid rock."
Balmond stared at the rubble, his shoulders slumping. "I… misjudged."
"It's fine," Kazuto sighed. "We'll clear it." But it would take days with picks.
Word of the "incident" traveled back to the basin faster than they did. When they returned for the midday meal, Leona was waiting. She did not look happy.
"An unscheduled collapse at the Alpha site," she stated, her voice icy. "Report."
"Balmond was widening the entrance. It… over-widened," Kazuto explained.
"I see." She turned her hazel eyes on Balmond. The berserker, who had faced down armies, actually took a small step back. "From now on, any structural modification requiring force exceeding a rating of 'firm shove' must be cleared through the logistics office. Me." She pulled a small, flat stone from her pocket. On it, she had carved a crude stamp—the word "APPROVED" in common script. "You will submit a request. I will assess. If warranted, I will stamp it. Then, and only then, may you swing your axe at community property. Understood?"
Balmond blinked. "You want me to… get a permission slip?"
"Yes."
He looked at Kazuto, who just shrugged. Balmond let out a long, defeated breath. "Understood."
Leona nodded, satisfied. "Your request to clear the collapsed entrance is pre-approved. See Doom for tools."
As they ate a lunch of flatbread and bean paste, Kazuto watched Leona move through the refugees. She was a force of nature. She settled an argument about sleeping spaces by drawing a literal lot from a hat. She assigned the potter a work area near the clay deposits. She found two children with quick fingers and set them to weaving reeds into baskets under the watch of an elderly refugee.
She was building a bureaucracy from scratch. And it was working.
After lunch, Kazuto went to check on the sealed cave. He found Leona already there, standing before the rubble pile, her head tilted. Doom and a few dwarves were sizing it up with picks, looking glum.
"It will take four days with current manpower," Doom reported.
"Unacceptable," Leona said. "That delays the housing schedule, which bottlenecks the census integration, which affects morale." She studied the rocks. Then, she did something strange. She took off her worn leather jacket, folded it neatly, and placed it on a clean rock. She rolled up the sleeves of her plain shirt.
"Stand clear," she said, her voice calm.
Doom and the dwarves shuffled back, confused.
Leona walked up to the largest piece of rubble, a slab of stone as tall as she was and twice as wide. She bent her knees, wrapped her arms around it, and lifted.
It wasn't a strain. There was no dramatic grunt. She simply straightened her legs, and the multi-ton slab of rock rose from the pile as if it were made of styrofoam. She took two careful steps sideways and set it down gently on the clear ground.
Silence.
She went back to the pile. She picked up another massive boulder, this one jagged and awkward, and placed it next to the first. Then another. In less than three minutes, she had single-handedly cleared the entire collapsed entrance, stacking the rubble neatly to one side like firewood.
She dusted her hands off, rolled her sleeves back down, and put her jacket back on. She turned to Doom, whose jaw was on the floor.
"The entrance is cleared. You may proceed with the planned widening. Carefully." She picked up her slate from where she'd left it. "I have a salt inventory to conduct. Carry on."
She walked away, leaving a group of stunned dwarves and a grinning Kazuto in her wake.
Balmond, who had arrived to see the tail end of this, stared at the neat stack of boulders. "How…?"
« ANALYSIS: SUBJECT 'LEONA' POSSESSES EXTREME PHYSICAL AUGMENTATION. MANA SIGNATURE: DORMANT/NON-MAGICAL. HYPOTHESIS: INNATE PHYSIOLOGICAL ANOMALY. »
So she was just… really, really strong. Naturally.
That evening, Leona presented her fourth list: "Projected Threats." At the top was "Salt Shortage." Second was "Interpersonal Grudge Conflict (monitoring)." Third was "External Retaliation (Seat-Related)."
"The salt is a practical problem," she said. "The grudges are a social one. The retaliation is inevitable. My former employer does not tolerate desertion, let alone the… acquisition of her assets." She glanced towards the kitchen, where Talene was scrubbing a pot with intense focus.
"We'll deal with them as they come," Kazuto said, his old mantra.
"Passivity is a strategy with a time limit," Leona countered. "I recommend proactive measures. We should send a diplomatic party to the nearest neutral settlement, Oakenwall, to establish a formal trade route for salt and news. Before the Seats paint us as monsters."
It was a bold, smart idea. It was also incredibly dangerous.
"Who would we send?" Mavis asked. "Anyone who leaves the Perimeter is vulnerable."
"I will go," Leona said. "I know protocols. I look like a scribe, not a warrior. I can present a rational case." She paused. "And I am… difficult to ambush."
After the display at the cave, no one doubted that.
Kazuto thought about it. It was a risk. But letting themselves be isolated was a bigger one. "Alright. But not alone. Balmond will go with you."
Balmond looked up, surprised.
"He provides the obvious threat," Kazuto explained. "You provide the hidden one. And he needs to get his permission-slip stamp used to the outside world."
Balmond grunted, which could have meant anything.
Leona nodded. "Acceptable. We leave in two days. I will prepare dossiers and trade manifests."
As the meeting broke, Kazuto stopped her. "Leona. That strength… you could have taken over any bandit gang. Why be a scribe? Why help these people?"
For the first time, her efficient mask slipped fully. She looked tired, and very old for her years. "Strength is a tool. Like a hammer. You can use it to build a wall or break a head. I chose to build a filing system." She adjusted her slate. "It is more complicated, and the paperwork is endless. But the walls last longer."
She walked away, already making a note about 'diplomatic mission packing list.'
Kazuto looked up at the Kingdom. They had a supernaturally strong bureaucrat, a berserker learning patience, a pyromaniac tyrant chopping vegetables, and a giant lizard that thought it was a tractor.
The Safe Haven Federation was no longer just a refuge. It was getting organized. And its secretary could bench-press a wagon. The future was going to be very, very interesting.