[ Alert: You have slain a Mid-White Frozen Prairie Wolf ]
A faint surge of power coursed through Golan's body. Though this was his first solo kill, the promotion energy he received wasn't much. Two reasons explained it: first, the gap in power between him and the beast; second, the limitations of his current rank.
It was just like the games he'd played in his past life—the higher one's level, the more experience required to advance.
…
In front of the Ancient Refinement Grave, Golan placed the headless wolf's corpse down.
[ Alert: Incomplete corpse detected—refinement benefits will be reduced. Proceed anyway? Yes/No ]
Choosing "No," he tossed the severed head in as well. With the body whole, the prompt disappeared. He confirmed the refinement, which would take another twenty minutes.
"Lord, the food is ready."
Just as he finished tinkering with the grave, Mira respectfully called him over to the modest barbecue feast.
"I'm coming."
…
By the Lord's Hut, a medium fire burned bright. Mira, Solomon, and the three villagers sat in a circle around it.
Golan gestured for them to sit before grabbing one of the skewers of meat (unseasoned, of course). Clearing his throat, he began to speak.
"Midday has come, and we've already made great progress thanks to everyone's efforts. So far, three beasts have dared to attack our territory. And the result? Part of one of them is the very meal we'll be filling our stomachs with!"
He stood, his voice rising from casual to commanding, pointing the skewer at the roasting meat as emphasis.
But then his tone hardened, his expression sharpening.
"I expect everyone to keep working hard. Because if we don't, one day we will be the ones filling the bellies of beasts!"
"We will defend the Lord's domain with our lives!!"
The reply was in unison, their faces stern. Golan could see the resolve shining in their eyes.
"I trust you all. Now, let's eat."
Satisfied with their reaction, he sighed in relief and dug into the food himself.
…
"Burp~ Delicious!"
Even without seasoning, the roasted meat exceeded his expectations.
'Could the beast's level affect the flavor?'
It was a thought he strongly suspected to be true.
[ Alert: Refinement complete. Collect now? Yes/No ]
The long-awaited notification appeared just after the meal. Golan confirmed without hesitation.
[ Extracted promotion energy delivered to the Lord ]
[ No new skill acquired ]
[ No new racial talent acquired ]
[ Alert: Ancient Refinement Grave now empty ]
[ Alert: Corpse can now be collected via gravestone ]
This time, he'd gained no skills, no talents, and while the promotion energy felt solid, it wasn't enough to push him further.
"Has my beginner's luck already run out…?"
Helpless, he let out a wry smile. But with the perspective of someone who had lived two lives, he quickly cast the disappointment aside.
Instead of retrieving the loot immediately, curiosity tugged at him. There were things he wanted to learn about this world.
"Solomon, where are you from?"
The soldier straightened and answered. "My homeland lies in one of the provinces of the Holy Ashur Kingdom."
Golan didn't press about the kingdom itself. Instead, he asked another question.
"How did you come here?"
"Because the Lord summoned me."
"I mean—were you dragged here against your will, or did you come willingly?"
"I was not forced. The Will of Chaos reached out to me. I accepted. Then you summoned me."
"Why did you accept?"
"Lord, you must understand—we natives are different from lords. I'm thirty-three years old. I joined a noble's army at sixteen and trained hard ever since. But my talent was only average. Seventeen years in the military raised my power by just two minor stages, leaving me stuck at Peak White for years. Yet today, after being summoned under you, the promotion energy I gained from one kill was multiplied hundreds of times.
With my little knowledge, I know this: the higher one's rank, the longer their lifespan. For example, Peak White extended my life by around twenty years. Reaching Green will raise it to sixty. That's why I accepted the Will of Chaos' conditions—to serve you in exchange for my future."
Solomon took a deep breath, his words filled with sincerity. Golan didn't interrupt. He simply sat in thought, digesting the weight of this new information.
Minutes passed in quiet contemplation. One of the villagers rose to feed more wood into the dying flames.
"So, Solomon—are new lords summoned often?"
Having organized his thoughts, Golan probed further.
The bald soldier frowned, scratching his head before answering.
"I don't know much, my Lord. There is no fixed time for new lords to appear. But I do know this: the last summoning was about 120 years ago. And whenever new lords arrive, great opportunities follow. For example, without your summoning, I would've been stuck at Peak White for the rest of my life. But now, at this pace, I could break through tomorrow."
"…So that's why this continent is called the Chaos Continent."
Golan muttered softly, then asked another question.
"Do you know where we are right now? Have you heard of the Frozen Highlands or the Frozen Prairie?"
"No, my Lord. I've never heard those names."
Seeing his uncertainty, Golan encouraged him. "Speak freely."
"…Very well. Once, while following my sergeant into a noble's tavern, I overheard senior officers talking. They said that when new lords of all races are summoned, the Will of Chaos expands small lands into vast regions, even creating new territories and new beasts. But, Lord, I don't know if that's true."
Golan stroked his chin thoughtfully. This revelation upset the order of his plans. He had wanted to learn about the surrounding kingdoms and geography—but if this land itself was newly created, then ignorance was unavoidable. Exploration would be the only way forward.
"Do you have a family, Solomon?"
Unlike before, this question came purely from curiosity.
"My mother died when I was young. My father raised me until illness claimed him when I was fourteen. I had no close relatives, so I lived alone until I joined the army at sixteen. I never married, so no, I have no family."
Sorrow lingered faintly in his tone. After all, humans were social creatures.
"I'm sorry for your loss. Until you build a family of your own, consider all my subjects—including myself—your family."
"Thank you, my Lord. I'll keep those words close to my heart."
Solomon's expression brightened so much that even his bald head seemed to gleam.
Golan decided not to question the others for now. Stability came first. Drawing patterns in the snow with his curved sword, he began outlining his next plan.
"All right, no more routine patrols for now. Instead, here's the new strategy: take two units of bear meat, cut them into equal pieces. Each of you will take one piece and head in a different direction. First, place it along the inner edge of the barrier. If, after an hour, nothing happens, place it outside the barrier instead. We need to know if the shield blocks scent."
"Understood, my Lord!" ×5
Once his orders were acknowledged, Golan rose and made his way toward the Ancient Refinement Grave to collect his spoils.
---
End of Chapter 6