I spent the early morning surveying the village.
My walk led me straight to the edge of the settlement, returning to the very cliff that overlooked the beach where I had washed ashore.
Looking at it now with a clear head, the geographical layout was undeniably strategic.
The village sat elevated on a high coastal cliff. Down below, the sandy shores were shielded by the rock face, dotted with coconut palms and lush tropical foliage. Up here, on the village level, the land leveled out into expansive, grassy plains with only a scattered handful of trees.
"This place has immense tourism potential," I muttered to myself. "Honestly, it looks just like Bali."
My eyes traced the landscape further. To the left of the beach, a wide river carved its way through the earth, emptying directly into the restless ocean. The riverbanks sat lower than the village cliffs, but the descent was a manageable slope.
"A river. A beach. A moderate cliff face."
A familiar, calculating thrill rose in my chest.
"Forget tourism," I mused, a cold smile tugging at my lips. "This is a natural, unexploited trade route."
I looked across the rushing water. On the opposite bank sat Balan village.
The contrast was sickening. Solid stone houses lined their streets. Overlooking their prosperous little town was a sprawling, well-kept mansion. The Baron's estate.
"No bridge," I noted, eyeing the fierce current of the river. "No wonder they split the administration. You would need a sturdy boat just to cross to the other side."
I turned my back to the ocean. The crisp sea breeze caught my blonde hair, whipping it across my forehead.
"The people of Earth failed to appreciate my vision," I whispered to the empty wind. "But here... here I will prove my absolute worth. I will build an empire from this dirt."
I immediately sought out Oderick.
I found the old chief near his shack and got straight to the point.
"Oderick, I intend to use the knowledge of my fallen kingdom to help this village. Tell me exactly what plagues this place. Hold nothing back."
Oderick's sunken eyes widened with profound gratitude. Slowly, he poured out their misery.
It was a classic tale of systematic economic oppression.
Their primary livelihood was fishing. However, the prime fishing grounds were entirely monopolized by the people of Balan. To make matters worse, our side of the beach had rough, unforgiving currents, making it incredibly dangerous for their small, rotting boats to dock.
Every month, traveling merchants and official representatives from Balan brought meager food supplies. But it was a calculated ration. Just enough to keep them breathing, never enough to let them thrive.
"The winter is the true nightmare, Lord Fragha," Oderick confessed. His voice trembled, laced with deep-seated humiliation. "When the heavy snow falls, we cannot survive in these fragile wooden shacks. We are forced to migrate to Balan village."
He looked down at his calloused hands.
"We have to beg on our knees for shelter."
"And I assume that shelter is not given out of the goodness of their hearts?" I asked smoothly.
"No, my lord. We pay for our lives with our reserve catch. And with whatever scraps of gold we can scrape together throughout the year."
I scoffed inwardly. A perfect economic stranglehold. Balan kept them starving, desperate, and entirely dependent.
"Why rely solely on the sea?" I asked. "What about farming?"
Oderick shook his head sadly.
"The representatives from Balan told us it is impossible. They say this land is cursed. They claim nothing will ever grow in this soil."
I knelt, scooping up a handful of the dark earth. I rubbed it between my fingers, feeling the moisture and texture.
It was dark. It was rich.
"Cursed?" I chuckled darkly, letting the dirt fall from my hand. "Oderick, this is humus-rich soil. The contour of the land is slightly sloped, yes, but it is perfectly suited for agriculture."
I dusted off my hands and stood up, looking the old man in the eye.
"Have you ever used fertilizers? What about pest control? Crop rotation?"
Oderick stared at me blankly.
"I... I do not understand those words, my lord."
"Ignorance," I said softly, "is the only true curse on this land. Very well. We are going to start farming."
Though clearly pessimistic, Oderick nodded. He trusted the weight of my fabricated noble title.
He moved quickly, ringing a rusted iron bell to gather the villagers.
Within minutes, a small crowd assembled in the center of the muddy square.
I observed them carefully. About fifteen men. They ranged from scrawny, malnourished teenagers to hunched, coughing elders. Out of a total population of forty, this was the entire capable workforce. They looked absolutely miserable.
Oderick cleared his throat, standing tall beside me.
"Listen well, everyone! I present to you Lord Fragha Van-Willhoft. He is a noble prince from a fallen kingdom far from here."
Oderick paused. His gaze hardened as he swept his eyes over his people.
"He has graciously offered to save us from this famine. But hear me now, and hear me well. You are to keep his true identity an absolute secret from any outsiders. If anyone asks, he is just a wandering traveler. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Chief!" the men chorused weakly.
I smiled inwardly. Oderick was sharp. Instructing them to hide my identity without me even asking was a brilliant, proactive move to maintain control and avoid unwanted attention from the Baron.
I stepped forward.
I projected my voice, utilizing the same practiced, magnetic authority I used during my presidential campaigns.
"Men of this village," I declared, making sure to make eye contact with as many of them as possible. "Starting today, things change. We are going to cultivate this land. We are going to farm, and we are going to end this famine once and for all."
The result was immediate.
The faint spark of anticipation in their eyes died out in a split second.
They looked at the ground. They shifted uncomfortably on their feet. A heavy, suffocating aura of despair settled over the crowd.
They had tried farming before. Many times. And every single time, they had watched their hopes wither and die in this so-called cursed dirt.