CHAPTER 88: THE FIRST ADMINISTRATOR

Derin’s question echoed in the dusty hall of the City Lord’s palace. It was the doubt of a man who had seen nothing but failure for decades, a man who had accepted his status as the shit of the province.

Rhys saw it clearly in the old soldier’s weary eyes.

"But..." Derin raised his head, and the doubt in his eyes was suddenly challenged by a fierce determination. "We have numbers. After all, the province has more abandoned than blessed."

Rhys’s expression remained unchanged, but a flicker of appreciation ignited in his pitch-black eyes.

Derin took a step forward, his voice growing stronger, more passionate.

"My Lord, you see Silverwood, and you see a dying town. But I see a beginning. For every so-called ’genius’ born into the great families, there are a hundred others who are cast out for not meeting their impossible standards.

There are thousands of us scattered across this province. Soldiers who were deemed too weak, merchants whose businesses failed, cultivators whose potential was judged to be insufficient.

We are the forgotten, the ’Abandoned’. We have no land, no name, and no future. But we are many. If you give us a home, a purpose... they will come."

Derin was breathless. Rhys wasn’t just offering them jobs and food; he was offering them the chance to build a new society, a society where the abandoned would become the powerful.

He dropped to one knee, his head bowed. This time, it was not out of fear or formal respect. It was an oath of absolute, unwavering loyalty.

"My Lord," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "My life, and the lives of everyone in this town, belong to you and to your vision. I will be the first administrator of the Eon Conglomerate. Command me."

Rhys nodded, a flicker of satisfaction in his dark eyes. This was the foundation he wanted.

"Good. Your first task is to organise the people. Explain the plan. Tell them that their new life begins today."

He took out a spatial pouch and tossed it to Derin. It was filled with a small supply of lifespan crystals, skill scrolls, and gold for initial expenses.

"This will help you start."

Derin took the pouch with trembling hands. He stood up, his mind already racing with the logistics of Rhys’s grand vision.

He was no longer just a commander of a forgotten town; he was the administrator of a future empire.

But a practical problem immediately came to his mind.

"My Lord," he said, his tone now that of a subordinate reporting to his superior.

"Even with the beast tide repelled by the major families, most of the roads are still dangerous. They are infested with the leftover monsters. That’s also one of the reasons we can’t connect with other cities for trade or to gather our scattered people."

"I will solve that problem." Rhys nodded simply. He stood up. "Come with me."

Rhys led Derin out of the palace and into the town square. The townsfolk were still gathered, their initial shock having turned into a buzzing excitement.

They parted like a sea as Rhys and Derin walked to the centre.

"What is Lord Rhys going to do?" a woman whispered to her husband.

"I don’t know," the man replied, his eyes wide. "But I have a feeling we are about to see something incredible."

They were right. Rhys raised his hand. The air around him shimmered. From the shadows of the surrounding buildings, they emerged. Silent, grey figures materialised from nothingness.

One became ten, ten became a hundred, and a hundred became a thousand. The Ashen Vindicators filled the town square, their silver eyes glowing with a cold, disciplined light.

They stood in perfect, silent ranks, an army of the dead summoned in the heart of the living town.

The hopeful buzz of the crowd was replaced by a terrified, awestruck silence.

Then, five more figures appeared. The Ashen Crusaders. They were larger, their platinum-ash armour gleaming, their presence so powerful it made the air feel heavy. They stood at the head of the army, the knights of his legion.

Derin stared, his mouth agape. He had seen powerful cultivators before. He had fought in wars. But he had never seen anything like this.

’What kind of trait does the Lord have? Necromancy? No, these monsters don’t look like mindless skeletons. They are even stronger than the elite soldiers of the Ashtons.’

Rhys turned to his silent army. He grouped the thousands of Vindicators into smaller squads of a hundred. He placed one of his powerful Crusaders at the head of each squad.

"You have your orders," Rhys’s voice was a clear command that cut through the silence. "The roads of this province are clogged with filth. Go and cleanse them. Leave no monster alive. Secure the paths to every town and city. Make them safe for travel."

The Crusaders raised their massive tower shields and slammed them into the ground in a unified, deafening salute.

Then, without a sound, the army of the dead turned and marched. They flowed out of the town gates like a grey river, splitting into different groups that headed in every direction.

They moved with a terrifying speed, like an unstoppable force sent to pacify the land.

Derin watched them go, his heart pounding in his chest.

The problem that had crippled their province for a year, a problem that even the Five Young Heroes had not been able to fully solve, their new lord was going to solve.

His awe turned into a fanatical, unshakeable faith.

Rhys turned back to the stunned Derin and the silent crowd.

"Now that the roads are being cleared," he said calmly, "we can begin our work. Derin, your next task is to conduct a census. I need to know everyone’s name, age, and skills. And divide them further into those with traits and those without."

Derin snapped out of his stupor and bowed deeply.

"Yes, My Lord!"

He immediately began shouting orders. The people quickly began to organise.

Rhys left the bustling town square in Derin’s capable hands. He returned to the quiet of the City Lord’s palace. The grand, dusty hall would be his workshop.

Sera was already there, sitting on the floor and using a piece of charcoal to draw a picture of the Ashen Behemoth on the wooden floorboards.

It was a childish scrawl, but it captured the creature’s immense size and power surprisingly well.

Rhys smiled and patted her head. He walked to the long, empty table that dominated the room. He unrolled massive, blank scrolls, the same kind he had used to design his formations in the Labyrinth.

He took out a special pen and a pot of enchanted ink. The time for planning was over. It was time to create the blueprint for his capital.

For days, he worked tirelessly. He did not eat or sleep. He was completely absorbed in his creation. He was not just designing buildings; he was designing a new civilisation.

He drew the plans for the Alchemist’s Alley, with its intricate network of labs and purification arrays. He designed the Forger’s Road, with massive, automated forges that would be powered by elemental cores.

He planned the layout of the Hunter’s Hall, the Academy of the Abandoned, and the residential districts. He wove powerful, invisible defensive formations into the very fabric of the city’s design.

It was a masterpiece of engineering and magic, a city designed for perfect efficiency and absolute security.