"If we maintain this trajectory," Olford explained, his voice low and rhythmic against the swaying of the carriage, "we will enter the innermost regions of the Southwestern territories. This is the industrial core of the region—the source of the raw materials that feed the coastal production centers."
"From those ports, finished and semi-finished goods are exported to the capital and the far corners of the world. Because the economy is anchored to the sea, almost all military and administrative focus is concentrated there."
"Consequently, these inland regions remain neglected, under-developed, and plagued by rising monster activity. The local nobility cares only for the extraction of resources; they spend their lives in coastal luxury, treating these lands as nothing more than a beast to be milked unrestrained."
The Royal Decree had been a bombshell: five years of total isolation with zero support except monetary. It forced an immediate and radical evolution of our original strategy. We had initially planned to take the safe merchant roads to the first port town, hire a vassal fleet, and sail to the coastal city nearest the Forest of Sanni. However, that was a luxury we could no longer afford.
The financial commitment stated in the royal decree began to create issues for us as the news hit the markets even before the envoy's return. It led the traders to raise the prices even before we received a single coin. Yet before my parents, the issue was settled swiftly.
The financial assistance could not be disbursed immediately. It required an official proposal to be assessed by the king himself—unlike the standard process handled by ministers—and we had only one opportunity to submit it. To make matters worse, due to the events that occurred during my birthday and subsequent preparations for the expedition, mother had not read the fine print about the proposal carefully enough to prepare it.
We were intentionally plunging into the monster-infested heart of the interior. Our new objective was clear: Social Legitimacy through Martial Superiority. By pacifying the "troubled" regions that the local lords had abandoned, we would secure the direct support and loyalty of the common populace.
If we could provide the safety the nobility would not, we could secure our own supply lines and manpower, independent of the Crown and the nobles' bureaucrats. It was a move prominently designed to checkmate the local nobles—they could not easily dismiss the requests of a "Hero House" that the people adored, nor could they openly oppose us without risking a regional revolt.
The mastermind behind this strategic pivot was Olford. As the Chief Intelligence Officer of House Hatar, his value far exceeded his title of steward. I watched him through the lens of my overclock processor, indexing his every movement. His proficiency in gathering disparate data points, his clinical analytical abilities, and his deep contextual awareness of Southwestern politics were staggering.
In a crisis, his operational control was absolute. As I sat in the carriage, watching Olford map the "monster-zones" on his scrolls, I realized I was looking at the most dangerous man in the caravan.
While my father was the Sword and my mother was the Scale, Olford was the Hidden Eye. He wasn't just guiding us toward Sanni; he was teaching me how to conquer an empire from the shadows. He was to be my teacher, my eyes, and my ears in this new world.
Our caravan had swollen to two hundred and seventy people by the time we reached the borders of the first monster-infested territory.
These additional hundred were not battle-hardened veterans but "apprentice recruits"—young men and women hand-picked by my father and mother from a flood of desperate applicants.
In the time between receiving the Iron Grunt's Witness and our official exile, Father had turned our estate into a temporary martial forge, where he forged raw young recruits into capable fighters. He hadn't just drilled men for other nobles and guilds; he had weaponized them.
He used these recruits to hunt local threats and monsters, simultaneously generating income for our family and tempering them in the fires of real combat.
They followed us now into the Southwest, eager to learn the Art of the Kill from the man who had personally put an end to the Orc Chieftain in the North.
I used my audial skill and optic skill to scan our new century of recruits. They were young—most having only a couple of months of training under my father's belt—and the transition into the wild had stripped away their bravado.
Through my optic skill, I could see the raw fear of uncertainty clouding their eyes. When I concentrated, their breathing was a chaotic, uncontrolled thrum against the steady, rhythmic pulse of the veterans. They were a liability in this high-mana environment, a comment made by a veteran. I concluded that their anxiety was making them prey to predators of the Southwest.
Yet, as I watched them from the safety of the carriage, I knew there was nothing they could do to change their fate. Most of these men and women hailed from the lowest rungs of society. For them, becoming a soldier for House Hatar wasn't a choice—it was the only ladder out of the pit of poverty. To retreat meant returning to starvation; to move forward meant a chance at a name, a wage, and a future, even if it cost them their lives.
On the eleventh day of our journey, we had our first encounter.
We came across a den of beasts known as Red Wolves. According to the scouts, they numbered eighty in total, five of which were classified as monsters.
I learned an important detail by using audial skill to eavesdrop on the young recruits—who talk far more than the elite vanguards: the distinction between a "beast" and a "monster" lies in the presence of a monster core or the ability to utilize mana or aura/spirit.
Father decided to test the new recruits. He organized them into four teams of fifteen, with two vanguards assigned to each. Our large caravan had already drawn the pack's attention, and the entire group attacked once we used a Beast Furious Potion.
The acrid scent of the alchemy was so potent it felt as though it singed the hairs in my nose. One team bore the brunt of the initial assault while the other three moved to surround the creatures.
The wolves' mindless aggression was no match for the recruits' discipline. Their numbers began to dwindle quickly as we closed the circle. Realizing there was no escape, the pack leaders finally joined the fray. A faint red light emanated from their claws; using optic, I observed that these empowered talons dealt significantly more damage.
On one front, two leaders pressured a single group, while the remaining leaders attacked the other teams individually. The vanguards held back, refusing to engage until the team facing the two leaders fell under extreme stress.
Even then, a young vanguard stepped in only to injure one of the wolves. He used his warhammer to crush the ribs on one side of the wolf. After a half-hour struggle, the last wolf was finished. We harvested the carcasses for meat and salvaged valuable materials, including claws, teeth, and pelts.
The recruits who hadn't participated were clearly envious, yet their discipline kept them silent. Only a few suffered minor injuries, such as scratches, and the fear on their faces had been replaced by confidence. The non-alchemy medical kits were used to treat the injured.
A rare, proud smile crossed Father's face as he congratulated them on their first victory, though he sternly reminded them that far more dangerous foes lay ahead.
The caravan didn't stop for long after the wolf attack. My father knew that the scent of eighty carcasses would act as a dinner bell for every scavenger in the territory. So we decided to move ahead until we found a suitable place to camp by circling the wagons for the night. Spare wheel parts and leather straps were taken out from the mobile toolkits to repair the carts.
Father decided to lay a trap for scavengers away from the camp. The new recruits set an ambush using the unusable parts of the wolves; it was time for them to taste blood.
While Mother and Olford managed the camp, I lay in my crib, my stomach heavy with a second helping of nutrient-dense mash. I needed the fuel. I initiated a session of overclock to process the data from the fight.
I analyzed the battle between the wolves and the recruits. Realizing that I might have to lead my own men one day, I knew it was vital to start learning now. I began to identify the mistakes in the recruits' formations, observing how the vanguards corrected them, noting their body movements, and studying the pack leaders in particular.
The "Red Light" from the pack leaders' claws replayed in slow motion in my mind. I observed how their muscles reacted when the glow appeared; their breathing quickened, and their movements became sharp.
When I compared this to their state before the glow, I made a startling discovery: their senses had improved. A leader could quickly find an escape route with a mere glance, whereas earlier it had taken a full second and a half.
It wasn't just vision; they could sense a spear coming from a blind spot, a superior version to my own haptic skill.
One dodged an arrow by the sound it made, its ear twitching in response. I also observed that by combining smell and taste, the leader was able to determine exactly how many of its subordinates remained alive. I was already using similar abilities, albeit without that surge in power.
This raised many questions. Based on my parents' conversations, these were pure Spirit-type monsters. I was certain the wolf's brain-processing power increased as well, though it eventually died of exhaustion once its Power of Spirit was emptied.
What would happen when I finally activated my own Power of Spirit? Would my current abilities increase with it? This would mean that even if my Spirit is empty and I enter a "debuff" state, I should still be able to rely on my enhanced biological power. In simple terms, my "debuff" would be minor compared to others.
I might be able to use all my sensory abilities simultaneously with the Power of Spirit, just like the wolf. Currently, I could only activate one ability or possibly two at a time. Mental exhaustion kicked in if the duration exceeded my threshold, and it remained for at least five to seven minutes.
I could still use other abilities—or the same one—during this exhaustion, but after that, a migraine started that remained for three to four hours. During that time, no abilities could be used.
The following morning, Dad and the recruits returned. I could see smoke trailing behind them; it appeared they had burned all unusable beast parts to avoid attracting more scavengers to the area.
They brought back the carcasses of lizard-like creatures, birds with sharp teeth, and the pelts of fox-like beasts. Dad and a few members of the vanguard planned a schedule for the recruits, who hadn't slept all night. A few of them were slightly injured.
After the initial encounter with the Red Wolves and the night of the ambush—which validated the "Hatar Doctrine" of controlled, high-stakes training—the House Hatar caravan reached Oahio, a neglected village surrounded by wooden walls.
The villagers were hesitant toward us; they believed we would take their provisions by force without paying. Father sent one soldier to bring the village chief.
She was completely terrified, but when Dad explained who he was and that they had hunted the Red Wolves, she pinched herself to see if she was dreaming. She thanked my father, but before she could say another word, he handed her several valuable beast parts in exchange for provisions.
We continued our journey through the beast-infested lands of the Southwestern region, repeating this process. We never stopped in cities under the direct control of noble retainers or their henchmen, as it would be difficult to cooperate with them and spread our reputation. According to Olford and Mother, such men are always hungry for gold.
The more we traveled, the more our name began to spread. People started looking forward to our arrival, especially as the monsters near the Forest of Sanni grew stronger.
A journey that normally takes twenty days took us more than a month and a half to reach the "Lawless Lands." It was called so because the people there were not required to follow the Kingdom's laws or pay taxes; in the past, when the Kingdom tried to collect taxes, the people resorted to banditry because the living environment was so tough. This region acted as a buffer zone between the Forest of Sanni and the Kingdom.
Our destination was the Star Fort, a fortress designed to hold two thousand soldiers. When we first saw the fort, the sturdy walls gave the impression that a thousand monsters couldn't breach them, yet nothing about it suggested it could hold two thousand people. It had been vacant since the orc invasion in the North; the hundred soldiers stationed here were called back at that time and never reassigned.
I looked at the Star Fort, shaped exactly like a star. From now on, it would be our new home.
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