After ensuring that all the people rescued from Kaldor's town were properly fed, clothed, and given a safe place to rest.
Arthur stood before the subjects who were collecting stones under the starry sky.
The cool night breeze brushed against his cloak, and the soft light from the territory's mana lamps bathed the gathered crowd in a warm, gentle glow. Their faces, though still shadowed with exhaustion and hardship, shone with hope—the kind that hadn't graced them for years.
Arthur, seeing the tired but determined faces before him, took a deep breath and spoke, his voice steady and kind.
"You've all worked hard enough for today," he said. "You should rest. Sleep peacefully tonight. Tomorrow is a new day, and we'll continue then."
There was a moment of silence... then a voice, small but firm, rose from the crowd.
"My lord," an elderly woman said, stepping forward with her cane, "we know this is a rare event, a blessing that won't come again soon. We can't let you shoulder all the work alone."
Another man, younger, covered in soot and dust, added with a nod, "You are our hope, Lord Arthur. If we can help, even a little, we will."
A chorus of agreement followed, their voices gathering strength like a wave.
"We *want* to help, my lord!"
"We *must* help!"
Arthur's chest tightened at their loyalty. A soft, proud smile crossed his lips.
"Very well," he said warmly. "But remember—you must not overwork yourselves. If you feel tired, you must rest, even for a moment."
He activated his **Communication** skill and sent a direct message to Isabella and Zara, who were already organizing the healers and mages in the back.
*"Isabella, Zara—please assist them. Heal any exhaustion. Bless them to strengthen their bodies. We work as one tonight."*
"Yes, Lord Arthur!" came Isabella's gentle reply.
"Understood," said Zara calmly. "We'll make sure no one falters."
As Arthur gave a final nod to the gathered townsfolk, the healers and mages quickly moved among them, casting gentle healing magic and blessings. A soft golden glow began to envelop the crowd, easing sore muscles and restoring their stamina.
With spirits renewed, the people scattered with laughter and cheers, eager to join the night's work.
Arthur then left the town center and made his way outside the walls of Starblade Territory.
Beyond the protective barrier, his soldiers and commanders had been working tirelessly, gathering stones under the faint moonlight. The clinking sound of stone against stone filled the quiet night.
Arthur raised his hand, calling out to them.
"You've all fought and worked hard today," he said. "There's no need to push yourselves further. Rest tonight. Tomorrow, we'll continue gathering."
The soldiers exchanged glances, uncertain.
George, towering with his greatsword slung across his back, was the first to step forward. His voice, though respectful, carried the stubbornness of a mountain.
"With all due respect, my lord," George said, grinning, "if you're staying awake, we have no intention of lying down either."
Dock thumped his chest with a fist. "Starblade's strength isn't built on laziness!"
Knuckle cracked his knuckles loudly. "Stones won't gather themselves, you know."
Even Ronan, ever the calm knight, spoke firmly, "Our loyalty is not so fragile, my lord. We fight beside you in battle—we work beside you in peace."
Laughter and cheers rippled through the ranks.
Arthur couldn't help but chuckle softly. His heart swelled with pride at their unwavering spirit.
"If you insist," Arthur said, unable to suppress a smile, "then let us work together. But pace yourselves. I won't have anyone collapsing under my watch."
A roar of approval greeted his words, and the soldiers returned to their tasks with renewed vigor.
Refusing to rest himself, Arthur grabbed an empty sack and joined the effort.
Throughout the night, the territory became a hive of motion and light. Magic flowed like an invisible river—healers moving from group to group, soothing aching bodies; mages casting **boosting spells** that reinvigorated muscles and sharpened focus.
The stars above bore silent witness to the tireless march of Starblade's people.
And among them, Arthur worked harder than anyone.
His Luck talent shone quietly, drawing rare and precious stones toward him as if the earth itself conspired to aid him.
Two thousand blazing hearthstones glowed like coals in his sack, each one pulsing with dormant energy.
One hundred Emberveil soulgems—priceless treasures—shimmered in the faint light, their surfaces reflecting haunting wisps of flame.
Arthur barely noticed the passing hours. The repetition of movement—the steady gathering of stones, the faint hum of magic—became almost meditative.
At last, the first ray of sunlight broke over the distant horizon.
It touched the land like a lover's caress, casting everything in hues of gold and rose. Mist still clung stubbornly to the ground, swirling in lazy tendrils between piles of collected stones.
Arthur straightened slowly, dusting off his hands. Around him, his people were still working—smiling, laughing, singing even—though many bore the telltale signs of exhaustion.
Whenever a subject stumbled or sat down heavily, a healer or mage was immediately there, casting healing and rejuvenation spells without hesitation. The soldiers didn't need the healing or blessings because they are already strong and can do these things tirelessly for 1 month straight.
Starblade had transformed overnight into something beautiful.
Arthur lifted a stone in his hand, examining it thoughtfully.
He flexed his fingers.
His body still moved smoothly, almost effortlessly.
"I don't feel tired even though I worked all night..." Arthur muttered to himself, half in wonder. "Is this because I've become stronger through leveling up?"
Indeed—it was a truth all powerful beings eventually realized.
The stronger a person became, the less they needed to rely on the frailties of the flesh. Hunger, thirst, sleep—these were burdens for the weak. The powerful could survive for months, even years, without rest if they so desired.
Arthur's lips curled into a quiet, knowing smile.
The road ahead was long.
Arthur stretched his arms and let out a small breath, feeling a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. With a flick of his finger, he opened the event panel, eager to see the fruits of their labor.
Event Resource Summary:
- Kindle Petal Cores: 25,000,000
- Blazing Hearthstones: 500,000
- Emberveil Soulgems: 5,000
Arthur's eyes widened at the numbers blinking back at him.
"This much in just one night...?" he thought, stunned.
"If I add the 15,000,000 points from yesterday, then... I would have a total of 41,000,000 points," Arthur muttered under his breath, doing the quick calculation.
A rush of excitement surged through him.
Only*9 million more points—and he would be able to purchase the most powerful soldier recruitment building of the event!
The very thought of it made his blood race.
Still, despite the thrilling progress, Arthur knew it was important to pace their efforts. Overwork now would lead to problems later.
Turning to his soldiers and commanders, who were still gathering stones with determination burning in their eyes, Arthur raised his voice so it carried across the field.
"Alright, everyone! It's already morning!" Arthur announced firmly. "You've done a great job, but now, it's time to head back to the military base and get some food in your stomachs before continuing!"
There was a short pause—then the soldiers responded enthusiastically.
"Yes, my lord!" George shouted with a hearty laugh. "A full stomach is a soldier's second sword!"
Knuckle threw a stone into a pile and clapped his hands together. "I'm starving anyway! I swear the stones are starting to look like roasted chickens to me!"
Dock chuckled as he sheathed his blade. "Finally! I thought I'd have to fight Knuckle for imaginary food soon."
Ronan, ever composed, simply smiled and saluted. "Understood, Lord Arthur. We'll ensure the men recover properly."
Laughter and easy camaraderie rippled through the group as they started marching toward the military base, chatting animatedly about what they hoped would be served for breakfast.
Satisfied, Arthur made his way into the territory.
The scene that greeted him warmed his heart even more.
The civilians—men, women, even some teenagers—were still working diligently, smiles lighting up their tired faces. They moved from pile to pile, carefully sorting stones with surprising energy despite the all-night effort.
Arthur stood at the town square and called out to them in a voice that carried authority—but also undeniable warmth.
"I listened to you all yesterday," he said, his tone brooking no argument, "and I allowed you to continue working through the night. But *not now*."
His gaze swept over them firmly, yet gently.
"You must rest. Go eat some food, take a little time to recover your strength—and *then* you can continue."
There was a collective pause. Some of the civilians looked at each other, as if reluctant to stop.
Finally, an old man with a hunched back and calloused hands called out with a wide grin, "But, my lord, we still have plenty of strength left!"
A group of young women nearby laughed, one of them adding cheekily, "We were just getting started!"
Arthur crossed his arms and gave them all a raised eyebrow, his mouth tugging into a small, amused smile.
"I don't doubt your spirit," he said with a chuckle. "But even the strongest fire needs fuel. Go eat. That's an order."
At last, the civilians broke into laughter and cheers, good-naturedly teasing each other as they gathered up their tools and headed toward the community kitchens.
"Lord Arthur really cares about us," a middle-aged man said warmly as he passed by.
"Of course he does!" another woman said, nudging him. "He's not just a ruler—he's our ruler."
Arthur watched them go, pride swelling quietly within him.
As Arthur watched his people disperse toward the kitchens, his attention was suddenly caught by the light patter of small feet.
A tiny figure—no more than three or four years old—shuffled toward him, clutching something tightly in her small hands.
She was a little girl, with tangled chestnut-brown hair and big, anxious blue eyes that kept darting up at him and then quickly away, as if she wasn't sure if she was brave or terrified.
In her little fists, Arthur noticed a faint, pulsing glow.
It was an **Emberveil Soulgem**—a rare and precious resource, almost half her own size, glittering like a captured star.
The girl hesitated just a few feet away, fidgeting nervously. Then, summoning all her courage, she thrust the stone out toward him with both hands, her arms trembling slightly.
And before Arthur could even respond, she turned on her heel and **bolted** like a frightened chick, running as fast as her tiny legs could carry her.
Arthur blinked—then chuckled warmly, his heart immediately softening.
Without a second thought, he moved.
In a swift but gentle motion, Arthur closed the distance, scooping the little girl up into his arms as she yelped in surprise, her small fists still clutching the soulgem tightly.
"Whoa there," Arthur said, grinning as he lifted her easily. "Running away after giving a gift? That's not fair, little one."
The girl squirmed in his arms for a moment, then stilled, realizing that the big, scary lord wasn't angry at all.
Arthur adjusted her gently in his arms, careful not to scare her. Up close, he could see how tiny she truly was—light as a feather, dressed in a simple, slightly worn tunic. Her cheeks were flushed from running, and her wide blue eyes stared up at him with a mix of awe and timid curiosity.
He smiled, his voice soft and patient, like one would use with a skittish animal.
"What's your name?" he asked, his tone so gentle it was almost a whisper.
For a moment, the girl just stared at him, as if deciding whether he was truly safe.
Finally, in a voice barely louder than a breeze, she mumbled, "M-Mila…"
Arthur's smile widened.
"Mila, huh? That's a beautiful name," he said warmly. "And this…"
He glanced down at the Emberveil Soulgem she was still clutching tightly.
"This is a very precious thing you found. You did amazing, Mila."
The little girl's cheeks turned an even deeper shade of pink, and she ducked her head against his chest shyly, murmuring something incoherent.
Arthur laughed under his breath.
Still holding her gently, he raised a hand and lightly ruffled her messy hair.
"You don't have to be scared," he said. "You're very brave. And very helpful to everyone."
Lina peeked up at him through her lashes, a shy smile beginning to form at the corners of her mouth.
Arthur glanced around and spotted a few older women nearby—likely her caretakers—watching the scene with wide smiles and hands over their hearts.
He chuckled again.
Without rushing, Arthur knelt down and set Mila carefully back on her feet, making sure she was steady.
He took the Emberveil Soulgem from her tiny hands and placed a small, simple pendant from his inventory into her palms instead—a little charm imbued with a faint protective blessing.
"This is for you," Arthur said, smiling as he closed her fingers over it. "It'll keep you safe. Keep being strong, Mila ."
The girl's eyes went even wider—this time in pure wonder—and she nodded vigorously, clutching the charm tightly.
Then, with a huge grin, she turned and sprinted back toward the watching women, her little feet kicking up dust.
Arthur stood there for a moment, watching her go, feeling a strange warmth blooming quietly inside him.
This—Now this was what he was fighting for.
Not just power, not just glory—but a future. A future worth protecting.
He tucked the Emberveil Soulgem safely away and straightened, the morning sun glinting off his armor as he turned back toward the heart of the territory.
There was still much work to be done.
But now, his steps were just a little lighter.
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