It’s truly impossible to comprehend the size of the multiverse. While there were only so many investors willing to dismantle an empire to buy a single Rall’s Fort artifact, Lithco said the Oracle had almost 284 billion planets under its control. All of those planets got my message—and the result was overwhelming.

  Even with Lithco sifting through the applications, it proved ineffectual. I asked for the top one percent for the warriors and ended up with over twenty million applications. Sure, most of the people were probably searching to break their or their families' soul pacts, but there were millions of quality neophytes.

  I cupped my head with my elbows on the table as Kain walked in circles around it. “Can’t you just give me… the top ten?”

  Lithco smiled and passed me a stack of paper applications through augmented reality. I found it charming until I read the top one, and my face paled.

  “Is it even safe to let this guy in here?” I asked, reading Dranta Moss’ report. “This reads like…”

  “Your profile?” he mused as he leaned back. “Well, not really, but close enough to be uncomfortable.” He leaned in and tapped it. “He also ranked in the multiversal Trial of Worth. You actually have a good deal in common. He requested to be sent to a place with strong beasts and a one percent theoretical survival rate.”

  I winced. “I don’t want to change up my soul pacts, but…”

  Lithco raised his eyebrows. “You want him in Wraithwood?”

  I laughed. “You think I have a choice? He’s not coming for the meal package. This guy wants glory and if we don’t give him a place, he’s going to go to the side conquering us. So ring him up and negotiate a… we’ll treat you real good, but we’re locking you into guardianship… type deal. Can you do that?”

  “Done.”

  I read the second profile, a woman named Yaksa Stone.

  Lithco reveled in my expression. “Not bad, right? Import her and you’d have a friend.”

  “Or enemy. People find no one more insufferable than themselves.”

  “Or… you could be like… a Gilgamesh Enkidu thing.”

  “If you call me Gilgamesh again, I’ll shackle you to a thousand years of total silence and isolation.”

  Lithco put up his hands. “Just saying. She’s a lot better than the Savage of Geena. Plus, she’s a soldier. I think she’d be more agreeable than you think.”

  I tongued my canine and said, “Tell her about Ikala, tell her that most my subordinates aren’t capable of handling her power, and tell her that it’ll create conflict if Dranta shows up all shackled up and she doesn’t. Remind her that everyone’s getting a strong guardian contract no matter what; she’ll just have a deal that closes loopholes.”

  “I think that I can make that happen.”

  “Good.” I looked through the other candidates with a sigh. “How many other people are there like this?”

  “A substantial amount. The multiverse is a very, very large place. And that’s also why there’ll be no shortage of people accepting less restrictive terms to join the enemy.”

  I chuckled ominously. “It seems that I have to ramp up my scaling efforts.”

  We had reached a point where we had no choice but to start evolving soldiers. Luckily, we had good leaders and substantial power. That would only increase, so it was time to start dumping cores and spells on the decent soldiers.

  Luckily, the Fifth Ring didn’t just have fourth-evolution beasts. We eliminated that entire nest of bugs, and in many other situations, we eradicated swarms during our culling duties, so I had hundreds of third-evolution cores. Once we improved the crop fields to accept fourth-evolution cores, we would also be drowning in food that could feed armies. Those were the top developments.

  That was the game plan, so that’s what we did.

  The next harvest, when the first ship of five thousand soldiers, trade workers, and leaders came through Galfer’s Gate, we gathered them in Wraithwood so they could witness a ceremony where over five hundred people obtained their wings. We gave out cores and promised peak evolution spells. Then, Karigo held an extravagant festival where everyone could witness the glorious might of those who came before them.

  Amongst the distinguished who arrived were Dranta and Yaksa, who both surprisingly came, and a pair of siblings who must have had incredible parents. Their names were Sika and Wedden Iaska, and not only were they exceptionally strong and successful military leaders, but they were also very agreeable.

  All four of these individuals, along with about a hundred others, came in cursed, as they were third-evolution entities. We managed to obtain Dranta over the enemy because our contract promised them that we would help them regain their power as quickly as possible. So when they arrived, we gave them twenty cores each and plenty of meat and let them enter isolated recovery with the others in new homes we made for them.

  Another massive influx came directly to Rall’s Fort, which was under construction.

  The area had a pulse. A vibe. A certain energy that you had to be there to experience. That’s because the people building it weren’t looking for luxury or ease—but glory.

  So they rapidly built buildings and didn’t complain that most of the usable Jacksmore properties that could be repaired were going to investors. The fort was the size of a city, so they built it fast, with Tyler and Trigan at the helm. Malo took care of the training, and I oversaw a blooming alchemy operation.

  I told Reta and the others that alchemy was the key to our salvation, so they sent in Trant and the alchemists to help us. At this point, they weren't the driving guardians of the forest, so they didn’t hide. Brexton was going to announce their presence anyway.

  Kyro came around and drank all day, but he was a good addition to my life and sanity.

  Just like that, the first winter and spring passed by, and it was time to meet my new military leaders. So I called him to dinner on the top floor of Wraithwood Cafe, which served leadership and budding entrepreneurs.

  Dranta looked like Kalas, someone who had augmentation tattoos over his body. He saved his face, but it didn’t matter because he never wore a shirt, trusting in his skin instead, as he had gone through a substantial amount of body tempering. He wasn’t as large as I thought. He wasn’t even the size of a bodybuilder, but was instead someone who looked like he stopped at the attractive level, and still had a nice haircut. He was… attractive.

  This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

  He was still a fucking idiot, though.

  The first thing he said to me was, “When do I get to kill things?” and he had just walked through the door.

  “No foreplay, huh,” I said. “I’ll have Malo take you all on serious hunts until you get the Poison Sense skill. It’s a diamond skill, but my chain quest makes it easy to obtain. About five thousand people have it.”

  “Good,” he said.

  I turned to the Iaska siblings. They had light, black skin with white tattoos, which were far cooler and more intricate than Dranta's. The two were very attractive, with the sister older than the brother by two years. They were both successful generals and war heroes who were bound by hellish contracts that prevented them from ascending to the next domain, even though they had far surpassed the peak of what was obtainable with their foundations.

  Both bowed their heads and offered me wrapped boxes.

  I blinked a few times and accepted. “Uh… thank you. But this is my job. You—”

  “When do I get to see you fight?” Dranta interrupted.

  The corner of my mouth twitched. I whirled to him with sharp eyes, considering showing him right then.

  “Lady Hill,” Sika said. “It’s unwise to show emotion in your home.”

  Her voice was so calm, and her willingness to correct me was so natural and absolute that I calmed down. I turned back to Dranta. “Are you recovered?”

  “Enough to trounce a second ev.”

  “Great. I’ll fight you tomorrow.” I turned back to my presents and then back to him. “But if you don’t shut up, I’ll show everyone but you.”

  Dranta narrowed his eyes and then looked away. “Then I won't speak.” He sat at the table with a bored expression.

  The Iaska siblings smiled helplessly. Yaska wasn’t so forgiving. The woman had soulless blue eyes that were intimidating rather than beautiful. Unlike the siblings, who would obtain passing scores from Elana for presentation, Yaska wore grungy eyeliner that was too thick and uneven, a sign that she threw it on as an afterthought and did so in a rush, or simply had no experience. Her one earring looked industrial, as if someone stapled an indestructible bar into her ear. From her clothing to her face, she looked like she shunned every aspect of her appearance except her body, which obtained beauty simply by virtue of the fact that muscle was necessary to obtain glory.

  This woman leaned in and the first thing she said was, “I’ll put him in his place, if you ask.”

  Dranta grinned at the table. “Oh… I love when women think they can fight.”

  Yaksa’s eyes flashed with murder. “I kindly ask that you request his execution.”

  “He’s just trying to goad you into fighting,” Wedden said. His expression was gentle yet firm in all the right places to convey confidence. “You can tell in his grin,” he added.

  Yaska scoffed when Dranta rolled his eyes and looked away, as if Wedden refused his fun.

  I really liked the siblings.

  “Well… let’s eat,” I said. “I’ll open the present later. And… give you all gifts. Forgive me, I’ve been a leader for…” I paused and thought about it. “It’s new.”

  “We appreciate the sentiment,” Sika said.

  All four of them sat at the table as servers entered the door with food and drinks. Dranta stared into the fire, expecting a boring orientation, but I immediately addressed the language that brought them there.

  “Let's talk glory.”

  They all leaned in.

  “We're in the middle of a war. In just a few years, we're going to be staring down the best and brightest in the multiverse. Before that happens, we’re going to make you and the other elites far stronger than they are.

  “That doesn’t just mean eating third evolution cores. It means taking a select few people in the Fifth Ring to fight fourth-evolution beasts.”

  Dranta’s lips curved into a grin, but Yaksa’s eyes bode warning.

  “We’re not collectors,” Yaksa said. “I joined for fighting, not harvesting.”

  “It isn’t harvesting missions. You’ll be coming with me—for training.”

  Dranta’s face morphed into a sarcastic front. “Oh… you’re going to train us…? How old are you?”

  “Somewhere less than thirty… I think. My mom tells me every year, but I instantly forget it… I think that’d make me thirty… or thirty one, come to think of it.”

  Dranta laughed. “You’re thirty, your mom still holds your hand, you’re in the second evolution—and you’re going to train us?” He turned to Yaksa. “Hey, how old are you?”

  Yaksa didn’t reply.

  “Oh, come on. Your dusty ass probably has a marker already. So it’s regal.”

  “I’m fifty six,” Yaksa said. “And if you talk to me like that, I’m going to slice out your leg tendons and choke you with them.”

  “Oooh, big words.” He turned to the others. “You two?”

  “We’re centures.” That meant over a hundred years old.

  His eyes widened. “Centures and you’re still third evs? Damn. You’re here by default.”

  Their soul pacts held them back, but neither felt the need to correct him, so I didn’t, either.

  “How old are you?” I asked.

  “I’m forty-three. But I qualified for the fourth when I was your age. I just spent an extra decade chasin’ purity. That’s different.”

  “Oh, that’s different…” I said sarcastically. “Well, here’s the thing. You’re breaking the rudeness rule. So if you want me to break your legs tomorrow, you’ll have to shut up.”

  His eyes flickered with madness. “Does that mean I’ll get to break yours?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “If you can break my legs, I’ll announce it publicly. Of course, I’m not going to quit fighting, and I’m still going to break your legs, but I’ll announce it.”

  “You’re quite arrogant for a second ev.”

  I looked amongst the people at the table. “It’s clear that preaching glory isn’t going to be enough for you. So let’s just… assemble up the top elites and bring ‘em to the pit. I’ll use this recalcitrant—”

  “Mira,” Wedden interjected.

  I took a deep breath. “I’ll show diplomacy through strength.”

  Dranta snorted and stood up. “Lead the way.”

  An electric wave spread through Wraithwood when we announced that I was going to fight a multiverse-wide Trial of Worth ranker. The Savage of Geena. That was his name, and everyone was excited to see the arrogant asshole get his teeth kicked in by the leader. But there was an equal number of new elites who knew that I was a second-evolution entity, and thought I was arrogant.

  Win or lose, everyone had to have a qualifier. I heard one person say, “If she even scratches ‘em, she’ll bash his skull in the second she evolves.” Another said, “He was just cursed, of course he’ll lose,” and people argued, blowing the number of resources I gave him out of proportion. I had fed him twenty-five and massive meals of third-evolution meat daily, so he wasn’t in bad shape, but people were saying I gave him a hundred and other ridiculous things. The warring opinions ensured that the match would be deemed a fluke, no matter what happened.

  Dranta didn’t like that. As we entered the pit, a two-square-mile stretch of destroyed trees and dug holes from explosive attacks, he said, “If I break your legs, everyone in ‘Wraithwood’ is going to know that I shattered their indomitable leader. You sure you want to ruin your reputation?”

  I chuckled and paused. “You know, that warning was unnecessary.”

  “Oh yeah?” he said with a creeping grin. “Why?”

  My eyes turned cold. “Because I’m going to make the win so brutal that people realize your peak performance wouldn’t make a difference.”

  A whooping cry of cheers met my words, and his cheek twitched. “Arrogant bitch.” He looked to the center of the field. “Keep up.”

  He blasted off his position, running across the pit to the center, jumping over hurdles along the way. I mounted Kline, and he warped us to the center of the field in an instant. As the audience searched for me, I took a few steps to the right, and my body warped as I decided on the degree of the lesson I was going to teach this man.

  I made a mistake by not showing my power to past elites. As a result, one no different than Dranta tried to throw a coup.

  I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

  Extra chapter because Wraithwood 2 is here! Book 1 is also $0.99 this week, and I have a deal for you. If Book 2 hits Top 10 in the rankings, I'll post the Dranta fight on Friday. If it makes the top 3—I'll post chapters on Saturday and Sunday as well. This sounds daunting, but I have 1100 Amazon followers and over ten thousand unit sales. It's completely doable, but only with dedicated efforts like this. So if you want extra chapters, drop a dollar or five, support the book, comment about it, and I'll make it rain. ^_^

  https://www.royalroad.com/amazon/B0DPJDRPWH

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