Chapter 58: Allies and Decisions
Roland paced around his tent, deep in thought. He had been struggling with the growing threat of orcs and the increasing demands of maintaining his forces. Suddenly, a realization hit him.
"Huh? I seem to have another way to get soldiers!" Roland muttered to himself. It had been a while since he thought about the system's store. The items there were always so expensive that he hardly bothered to check, knowing he couldn't afford much. But now, he had no other choice.
"Check the mall," he quietly instructed the system.
A light screen appeared before his eyes, visible only to him. Roland's eyes widened as he scrolled through the available options.
"Commodity 1: Flame Dragon Rider - Level 5, Rank 5. Quantity: 1. Price: 1 million wealth points," the screen displayed.
"Commodity 2: Light Sage - Quantity: 2. Price: 800,000 wealth points."
"Commodity 3: Time and Space Falling Forbidden Curse Scroll - Great Forbidden Curse! Use this time: 2. Quantity: 1. Price: 1 million wealth points."
Roland's excitement quickly turned to dismay. "These are all amazing, but what can I buy with just 400,000 wealth points?" he groaned, feeling the familiar frustration of limited resources.
He continued browsing until his eyes landed on something more affordable, albeit not exactly cheap.
"Commodity 12: Half-Disabled Swift Stream Corps. Originally a full-scale infantry corps, now reduced to 1,500 soldiers due to natural and man-made disasters. Discounted price: 30 million wealth points."
Roland's heart sank. "Thirty million? That's daylight robbery!" he exclaimed. "But I guess it's better than nothing."
He quickly did the math. "At 200 wealth points per soldier, it's still incredibly expensive, but I need more troops."
He decided to purchase the weakened Swift Stream Corps. It wasn't the best option, but he was desperate. His wealth points rapidly dwindled, leaving him with just 100,000 remaining. He sighed, resigned to his situation.
"Well, it's better than nothing," Roland muttered. "Marcus will be happy at least."
Marcus, the commander of Lagrand's city defenses, had always been known for his mastery of infantry tactics. Roland hoped that with these additional soldiers, Marcus could better defend against the impending orc attacks. The war in the south seemed likely to be dominated by urban combat, and the extra infantry could make all the difference.
Roland walked over to a simple sand table in the corner of the tent. The model depicted the terrain surrounding Rapid City, showing the heights of mountains, the flow of rivers, and other details that a regular map couldn't convey. He stared at the representation of the two cities near Changhu Lake, feeling the weight of the looming conflict.
"I've gathered all the allies I could find, summoned all the soldiers I could… and it still might not be enough," Roland murmured, rubbing his temples in frustration.
"My lord! Knight Peter has left," Carlos announced as he entered the tent.
Roland waved dismissively. "He's needed elsewhere."
"My lord, I didn't expect you to have a Forbidden Curse Scroll! Why didn't you use it earlier? I saw Mage Ladir muttering to himself with a rather dark expression," Carlos said with a chuckle.
Roland quickly improvised. "Oh, that old thing? It's been buried at the bottom of my belongings for so long, I'd almost forgotten about it."
Carlos nodded. "That makes sense. It's easy to lose track of things passed down from generation to generation."
Roland forced a smile, though internally, he was lamenting the ridiculousness of the system. "If only he knew," he thought.
"By the way, are you feeling better?" Roland asked, concerned. Carlos had recently fought a fifth-tier warrior head-on, and Roland knew it had taken a toll on him.
"Just a minor injury. I'll be fine with a day's rest," Carlos replied nonchalantly.
Roland couldn't help but envy him. The knight's rapid recovery reminded him of the benefits of having a bond with the Dragon Clan.
"King Roland! Carlos, you're here too?" Vervill poked his head into the tent, surprised to see Carlos up and about.
"Yes, Lord Vervill, my injury is nothing serious," Carlos said respectfully. As a sixth-tier warrior and the future Elf King, Vervill commanded immense respect.
Roland addressed Vervill with a nod. "What brings you here, Your Excellency?"
Vervill bowed slightly. "I wanted to thank you for your help, Roland. Without the elf holy sword Manikati, I wouldn't have survived, nor would Carlos."
Roland waved off the thanks. "I'm just glad it was of use. Manikati was gathering dust in my possession. I never imagined it would help spawn an elf king."
"But I must still thank you," Vervill insisted, bowing deeply once more.
Roland smiled warmly. "You're welcome. We're all in this together."
"Have you decided what you'll do next?" Roland asked, curious about the prairie elves' plans. With Vervill now at sixth-tier strength, the elves could easily relocate to safer regions like the Misty Mountains or the Gray Mountains.
Vervill was silent for a moment before responding. "I plan to stay and help you."
Roland was surprised but pleased. "Then you're most welcome. If we survive this war, I'll be there to witness your coronation as the prairie Elf King."
The two leaders exchanged a sincere smile, both understanding the simplicity and gravity of their bond in these trying times.
.....
30 more chapters on my patreon
⛔www.p@treon.com/Greatsage5302⛔