3 Extra Chapter for reaching 300 power stone~
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"System sign-in!" Rynar began his daily routine of checking in.
"Give me something useful!" Rynar couldn't help but complain about the mishmash of items the system provided—things like beginner's magic books and his own golden statue...
"Sign-in successful! Congratulations, host, you have received 100 Zaltarion City Guards."
"Did I hit the jackpot?" Rynar exclaimed in surprise. However, this time, he didn't choose to summon the troops.
The reason was simple… he was too embarrassed to admit it—he didn't have enough provisions to feed a hundred mouths.
Right now, he was managing decently with fishing and hunting in Riverguard, but he couldn't forget that the city was a magnet for the displaced.
The population had been gradually increasing day by day, and Rynar really didn't want to take on the burden of feeding an additional hundred people.
Speaking of the Zaltarion City Guards, as their name implies, they were the guards of Zaltarion City.
This army was entirely composed of apprentice warriors who had been eliminated from various elite units, those with no hope of promotion.
Their primary responsibilities included maintaining the security and defense of Zaltarion City.
But if you underestimated them just because they were a secondary force, you would surely regret it…
If I had to give them a rating, it would be that you can always rely on them. As a melee unit, their overall capabilities were terrifying.
The profession bestowed upon them robust physiques, granting them a strong endurance to carry heavy loads.
With the combination of Zaltarion's steel plate armor and lined leather armor, along with the outer linen armor, they could withstand various high-intensity attacks.
Their half-body broad shields, forged from steel, could block wide-area assaults, while their three-meter steel spears allowed for fierce attacks without losing agility.
Their steel longswords served as a supplement to their melee weapons, and the Zaltarion crossbows slung at their sides could strike enemies within a hundred meters.
The five steel javelins stored in their backpacks could effortlessly kill various lightly armored troops from fifty meters away.
"My lord, the horses are ready." Caslow walked in directly; the damaged wooden door hadn't been fixed yet.
"Alright, let's go!" Rynar glanced at the small pile of gems in the system space, uncertain if they could be traded for various supplies.
He regretted not taking more earlier, as he had been too focused on collecting gold and overlooked the gems in the treasure trove. Realizing this made him sigh—what a blunder!
"Giddy up!" Accompanied by ten knights, Rynar and Caslow set off northward.
In truth, Rynar had been reluctant to take the knights along; after all, more people meant more strength, and Caslow could handle anything that came up.
However, they faced strong opposition from everyone.
Now that Rynar was the king of Zaltarion Empire, it would be quite embarrassing for him to travel without any retainers.
It would not only disgrace King Rynar but also humiliate the entire Empire.
Eventually, after much discussion, the group agreed to his plan of taking just ten people.
Although Rynar was reluctant to show off, he couldn't help but envy certain kings from woodland realms who traveled with thousands of professionals.
After all, everyone wants to return home in splendor—there aren't many who prefer to travel incognito.
Passing by the already freezing Long Lake, Rynar rubbed his hands together.
In the distance, the ruins of Long-Lake were still clearly visible. He clenched his fist, vowing to rebuild it someday.
Caslow, however, seemed eager to go treasure hunting again, as he had found plenty of easily storable dried food and various tools the last time they were there.
...
In the distance, the towering Lonely Mountain loomed, and Rynar's group arrived at the valley town at its foot.
At this moment, the town had begun to clear away the weeds and dilapidated buildings.
Bard was leading everyone enthusiastically in reconstruction efforts, while only a few guards stood watch on the crumbling walls.
"Stop right there!" The only soldier at the gate thrust his spear forward to block Rynar's path.
"Hmm? Are you King Rynar?" Clearly, the soldier recognized Rynar's banner.
"Yes, I'm here to check on Bard," Rynar replied with a smile.
"Please wait a moment; I need to inform him." Despite being familiar with Rynar, the soldier still remembered his duties.
"Sure, that would be much appreciated!" Rynar was unconcerned by the soldier's rudeness.
Before long, the soldier returned, jogging with someone following closely behind.
"Bard!" Rynar called out with a smile.
"Hey! Lord Rynar! It's great to see you!" Bard embraced Rynar.
"What brings you back?" Bard asked curiously.
By all accounts, Rynar should have been working with his people to build their territory, so why was he suddenly back at Lonely Mountain?
"I've run into big trouble…" Rynar lamented.
"What's going on? Have you encountered an army of orcs?" Bard's smile faded, glancing at the knights behind Rynar.
He noticed there were only ten knights and that fearsome Dragon Rider from the battle at Lonely Mountain.
His heart sank; what kind of orc could swallow up an army of over a hundred knights and archers?
Even if the number wasn't as high as the orcs from the battle of Lonely Mountain, it was still daunting. Didn't they see that even the Dragon Riders had fled in panic?
"What are you thinking? It's not orcs!" Rynar realized that Bard was scaring himself with his imagination.
"Ah? Not orcs? Then what kind of trouble are you in?" Bard was confused.
"Famine and cold…" Rynar said slowly.
"…" Bard opened his mouth but ultimately felt powerless.
The townsfolk of Long Lake, already oppressed by the mayor, were struggling even more after the devastation wrought by the Scourge.
If it hadn't been for the woodland elves lending a hand, Bard's situation would be dire as well.
"So I came looking for the dwarves of Erebor, hoping to purchase some tools and food," Rynar explained his thoughts.
After a long, shared silence, the two fallen kings sighed in unison; life was too hard...
Bidding farewell to Bard, Rynar hurried toward Erebor.
Before long, the towering stone statue of a dwarf appeared before him.
A group of dwarves was busily and skillfully using tools to lift stones of various shapes; it seemed they were repairing the city gate.
"Hey! Balin!" Rynar called out cheerfully. Balin was undoubtedly the most recognizable dwarf from the expedition team, his snow-white beard and hair made him easy to identify.
"Oh! King Rynar!" Balin bowed in greeting, holding high respect for the human lord who had come to the dwarves' aid during their direst hour.
"How's everything here?" Rynar asked, beaming.
"Wonderful! It feels like home... Oh! Knight Caslow, greetings!" Balin recognized the Dragon Knight who had fought valiantly.
"Greetings, Lord Balin," Caslow replied humbly.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" Balin turned to Rynar.
"Of course! Our people are in dire need of food and tools!" Rynar anxiously explained the situation of his people lacking food and clothing.
"Hmm! This is indeed a big problem. I'll take you to see the king right away." Balin recognized the seriousness of the matter.
Rynar had come seeking aid; when Balin had sent Rynar and the others off, he had understood that Rynar had little in the way of supplies.
As for the return of Rynar's people, Balin could relate; after all, many dwarves wandering in various lands had received the news of Thorin's reclaiming of Lonely Mountain and were preparing to return to their homeland.