In the cramped confines of his small room, Ryan sat engrossed in front of his computer, deeply immersed in the virtual world of "Kingdoms vs. Empire"—a strategic game centered on the art of empire building.
"Seriously? Do these fools really think they can topple my empire so easily?" he muttered under his breath, frustration lacing his tone.
His screen painted a scene of rebellion; the kingdoms he had painstakingly brought under his empire's wing were now in revolt, threatening to dismantle everything he had built.
"Kingdoms vs. Empire" starts players off as mere villagers, tasking them with evolving their settlements through various stages: from village to town, then city, and ultimately, to a kingdom. To ascend to the status of an empire, a player must conquer at least three kingdoms, compelling the defeated to pledge allegiance under their empire's flag. This hierarchical structure positioned empires as formidable forces, commanding resources and loyalty from the subjugated kingdoms.
Yet, the game's most intriguing feature was the possibility of a kingdom, quietly amassing power within an empire, to rally other players in a clandestine plot to overthrow their overlords. This dynamic underpinning of strategy and betrayal gave "Kingdoms vs. Empire" its compelling title.
At this moment, Ryan found himself at the heart of such a conspiracy, with key kingdoms he once controlled now leading a rebellion against him. The chatbox on his screen was a storm of taunts and jeers from the traitorous players.
"End of the line for you, Solomon_D_NTR!"
"Prepare to be dethroned, Solomon! Your so-called empire's days are numbered!"
"I must say, your capital, Bathsheba, had its charm and strength. Too bad it'll soon be nothing more than a footnote in your fall from grace."
"Empire? More like a quaint little kingdom, soon to be a mere city."
"Or maybe just a village!"
"Xoxoxoxo..."
Laughter and mocking emotes flooded the chat.
Ryan's eyes flickered with irritation as he caught a glimpse of the mocking messages flooding the chat. With a scowl, he snapped back, "This is the end for you, you bastards." His fingers flew across the keyboard as he retorted, "Really? You think I'm going down without a fight? Think again. My empire hasn't played its final card yet."
The other players shrugged off Ryan's words with a mix of disbelief and mockery. "Yeah, right, keep dreaming," one taunted. "What a joke," chimed another. "Enough with the lies!"
As the rebels, commanding kingdoms of their own, launched a massive assault on the city of Bathsheba, deploying a formidable force of 3 million soldiers, cavalry, and archers, Ryan remained unfazed. A smirk played on his lips as he coolly navigated to his castle's arsenal. The screen displayed an array of military options, among which his secret weapons were hidden.
At his command, advanced crossbows, trebuchets, and, most notably, gunpowder and explosives were unveiled. These were the ace up Ryan's sleeve, developed over two years of meticulous planning and strategy within the world of Kingdoms vs. Empires. Now, as the enemy forces closed in, he was ready to turn the tables with his technological marvels, signaling a dramatic shift in the battle's tide.
Without a moment's delay, Ryan unleashed his secret arsenal onto the battlefield, dramatically altering the course of the conflict. His once-beleaguered forces surged forward, repelling the invaders with newfound vigor and even seizing the upper hand.
Confusion and panic spread through the ranks of the attacking players. "What's going on here?" one exclaimed. "They've got advanced crossbows and trebuchets!" another cried out in disbelief. "And that's not all—they're using gunpowder and explosives! When did such powerful weapons make their way into the game?"
Frustration mounted among the rebels. "Fall back!" one shouted, fearing the loss of his army. "We've poured too much into this uprising, too many of our resources. We have to overpower the empire, or it's all been for nothing. I might as well quit this damn game!"
Laughter broke out among some, even as they acknowledged the heavy investments they had made. "You've sunk too much money into this; you won't quit," one jeered. Yet, rallying spirits emerged. "We must defeat the empire to recoup our investments!" another declared. "He can't possibly have an endless supply of gunpowder and explosives. Let's push forward!"
Encouraged by their own bravado, the players regrouped and mounted a counterattack against Ryan's empire.
"Pathetic! You think you can challenge my empire?" Ryan laughed in scorn. But his laughter soon turned into a fit of coughing, so severe that he struggled to catch his breath. In the midst of his coughing spree, his head dropped onto the keyboard, inadvertently sending a nonsensical string of characters sprawling across the chat: "Jsidkeisjj29848_!$20(2!82!2!)"
The players, puzzled by this cryptic message from Solomon_D_NTR, were unaware of the dire situation. Ryan had laughed himself into such a fit that he could no longer breathe, and tragically, he passed away from the ordeal.
Meanwhile, his empire, operating on the momentum and strategies he had set in motion, continued to fend off the rebellion, securing victory after victory with its superior military might and groundbreaking weaponry.
But as Ryan's empire stood victorious in the virtual world, its creator had departed for another realm, leaving behind a legacy of triumph in the face of treachery—a legacy that none of his adversaries, still embroiled in their virtual conquests, could fully comprehend.
...
...
...
As the carriage lumbered through the otherworldly landscape, its wheels thudding against the uneven path that carved its way through a dense forest, the jolting motion eventually roused a young man from his slumber. With locks of blond hair framing his face and eyes that glimmered an unusual shade of red, he blinked awake to the reality of his surroundings.
"Your Highness, you're awake," came a voice, pulling him further from the fog of sleep.
Turning towards the source, he found himself gazing at a middle-aged man dressed in the height of medieval elegance, his attire both luxurious and formal. The man offered him a smile, tinged with a hint of apology. "It seems the journey's roughness has interrupted your rest. My deepest apologies, Your Highness..."
The young man, still grappling with confusion over his current predicament, managed a weak shake of his head. "It's alright," he assured, though his voice betrayed his lingering disorientation.
Acknowledging the response, the older man promised, "I'll have a word with the coachman to ease the pace. We wouldn't want to add to your discomfort."
Grateful, yet still combating the dizziness that the carriage's relentless shaking induced, the young man merely nodded in agreement.
Following through, the attendant leaned forward to knock on the carriage wall before sliding open a window to issue his instructions. His voice, firm yet courteous, reminded those outside—particularly the coachman—to temper their speed, all in the effort to spare their royal passenger further unease.
What those attending him failed to realize, however, was the profound mystery cloaking the young man's identity. The soul that now animated him belonged to Ryan, a young man from another era and world entirely—our modern Earth. Unbeknownst to them, their prince had become the vessel for an entirely different consciousness.
AN:
(Recently, I've been getting a notifications from Webnovel about the perks of becoming an original author on their platform. Honestly, it's got me pretty curious and quite intrigued. Should I decide to take the plunge and become an original author there, I'm thinking of drafting chapters for a kingdom-building novel.)
The carriage meandered along the bumpy path, deliberately slowing its pace to prevent the royal passenger from feeling sick. Inside the carriage, Ryan, a gamer from the modern world, had yet to fully grasp that he had somehow become a prince in this alternate reality.
"Where are we going?" Ryan inquired, looking at the middle-aged man seated across from him in the carriage.
The man looked back at Ryan with a mix of surprise and disbelief, clearly not expecting such a question from the prince.
"Your Highness, weren't you aware?" The middle-aged man studied Ryan's bewildered face, pondering to himself, "Ah, the jostling of the carriage must have scrambled his thoughts."
After a moment of reflection, he began to explain, "Your Highness, a few days ago, the king decreed that you are to govern the city of Bathsheba, the sole city in the region of Thornvale." As he continued, a look of sympathy appeared in his eyes, reflecting his pity for the young prince.
The region Prince Ryan was assigned to rule was far from ideal: it lacked resources, was isolated from the rest of the kingdom, and notably, Thornvale was home to just a single city nestled deep within the forest. The kingdom's interest in Thornvale stemmed from the dense forest's potential as a natural defense against invasions from neighboring realms and barbarian threats.
Ryan was inwardly stunned upon hearing the middle-aged man's description...
The forest of Thornvale and the city of Bathsheba?
The names felt strangely familiar because they were exactly what he had named his own domain in the video game "Kingdom vs. Empire." In the game, his small village of Bathsheba grew into a town and eventually a city, allowing Ryan to claim a region of his own. He had chosen a forest setting, placing his city at the heart of a dense woodland.
Despite the economic disadvantages, Ryan had selected the forest for its strategic defensive benefits. He believed the thick woods not only offered protection but also concealed untapped resources, making it a place ripe with potential despite its initial challenges.
As memories of his "Kingdom vs. Empire" gaming exploits flickered through his mind, Ryan began to piece together his current predicament.
It seemed a "King" had dispatched him to the region of Thornvale, specifically to the city of Bathsheba, entrusting him with its governance. Given Bathsheba's status as the region's sole city, Ryan realized his role was essentially to govern a city-state.
Furthermore, being addressed as "Your Highness" by the middle-aged man led Ryan to deduce he was a prince within this kingdom—a notion that thrilled him, as he had always harbored dreams of royalty.
Lost in thought and with the middle-aged man—who appeared to be the prince's steward—watching over him, their reverie was shattered by a sudden cry: "We're under attack!"
The urgency of the situation snapped Ryan and the steward into alertness. Peering through the carriage window, Ryan witnessed archers targeting their lightly armored soldiers.
The steward took a moment to assess the situation before issuing a stern warning to Ryan, "Your Highness, please, stay inside. It's too dangerous out here." With that, he stepped out, sword in hand—a light rapier that Ryan had only just noticed.
Assuming a defensive posture, the steward skillfully deflected an arrow aimed at them, his actions unfolding under Ryan's anxious watch.
The conflict escalated quickly, their fifty-strong guard dwindling to forty-seven. Then, a heavily armored adversary charged, diminishing the prince's forces further. Despite their faltering morale, the steward's command—"Protect His Highness at all costs!"—echoed across the battlefield, yet the response from the beleaguered soldiers was hesitant and slow.
As the steward and the soldiers grew increasingly anxious, particularly with the steward's concerns for the prince's safety at the forefront, the assailants—both soldiers and archers—suddenly began to withdraw.
"What's happening?" Both Ryan and the steward were baffled by the turn of events.
The soldier leading the charge ordered a retreat. Everything was unfolding according to plan, a scheme orchestrated by the third prince.
The objective was to ambush the bastard Prince Ryan's escort, targeting the troops assigned to accompany him to Bathsheba.
The underlying motive was clear: to weaken Prince Ryan's forces, complicating his future endeavors and governance in Bathsheba.
--
"Damn, I was attacked?" Ryan mulled over the situation with frustration.
According to the steward's report, the assault had cost him at least 22 soldiers and 10 servants. His military strength was now diminished to 38 soldiers, and only 8 servants remained.
"This is a disaster," Ryan thought grimly.
Noticing Ryan's sour mood, the steward saw him command a hastening of their journey. For several hours thereafter, their travel smoothed out, much to the relief of Ryan and his companions. Aside from necessary stops for rest and meals, they pressed on, reaching the city of Bathsheba two days later.
To Ryan, the Thornvale region appeared far more expansive than he had initially imagined.
Yet, upon arrival, Ryan was momentarily lost for words. What he saw was hardly a city but a village, and a destitute one at that. "A city? This looks more like a village," he thought.
The local dignitaries, clad in animal skins rather than proper attire, greeted him at the wooden gates: "Welcome, Prince Ryan! It is our utmost honor to be governed by you!"
As Ryan was escorted through, what was supposed to be a city revealed itself as nothing more than a village. The carriage bumped along the uneven roads, and through the window, Ryan observed the malnourished populace, the air thick with the stench of poverty.
"Is Bathsheba really this dire?" Ryan questioned internally. Unfamiliar with his new role, unaware even of his steward's name or those of his key soldiers and servants, he felt lost. To avoid raising suspicion, he refrained from bombarding his steward with questions, especially by asking their names.
Just as anxiety began to take hold, contemplating how to navigate his precarious situation, a mechanical voice echoed in his mind, accompanied by a translucent interface materializing before his eyes:
[Ding! The legendary player of "Kingdoms vs. Empire" has been rewarded with the "My Empire System"!]
[Seeking fame? Riches? Flourishing cities and a revered governance? Desiring to be a king or emperor adored by his subjects, yet feared by foes? The My Empire System is here to realize dreams beyond a mere prince's aspirations.]
[Will you accept My Empire System?]
[Yes] or [No]
At the appearance of the interface and the mechanical female voice in his head, excitement surged within Ryan.
"Yes!" he exclaimed, eagerly selecting [Yes].
Unbeknownst to those around him, the fate of their world had just been intertwined with an extraordinary anomaly: Ryan and his newfound system.
In the grand and opulent castle nestled beneath the capital city of the Kingdom of Valthorn, known as Fortisar, there lies a sprawling royal estate.
Within the castle's dedicated training grounds, the third prince of Valthorn was honing his swordsmanship alongside his knights when he momentarily halted his session to address an approaching subordinate.
"What news do you bring from your mission?" inquired the third prince.
Dropping to one knee, the subordinate replied, "Your Highness Emeric, I'm pleased to report that we've successfully accomplished the task you set for us, exactly as you envisioned."
A smile broke across Prince Emeric's face. "Is that so? I'm eager to hear the details."
With due respect, the subordinate shared, "My men and I have successfully diminished the forces aligned with the bastard Prince."
Prince Emeric's expression was one of sheer satisfaction.
The subordinate, a high-ranking squire and a leader among his peers, belonged to a military echelon that, despite its modest rank, boasted members from noble lineages, commanding a significant budget within the kingdom's military hierarchy.
After the exchange, Prince Emeric's attendant, a man in his thirties, voiced a concern, "Your Highness, are you sure we shouldn't have just eliminated the bastard Prince outright?"
To this, Prince Emeric responded with a chuckle, "There's no need for such drastic measures. My aim was merely to unsettle him by thinning his ranks, to complicate his endeavors in Bathsheba..."
The attendant couldn't help but sympathize with the bastard Prince, thinking it might have been kinder to end his struggles than to doom him to governance over a destitute land.
--
Elsewhere, aboard a carriage, the steward to Prince Ryan observed his charge with a mix of concern and resignation. Prince Ryan appeared oddly jubilant, absentmindedly gesturing in the air as if lost in thought.
The steward sighed inwardly, lamenting, "The loss of soldiers and servants seems to weigh heavily on his highness's heart..."
What the steward couldn't have guessed was that Ryan's excitement stemmed from a pivotal moment in his life. He had just embraced an extraordinary opportunity, a "cheat" known as "My Empire System," poised to transform his destiny.
After enthusiastically selecting 'yes,' Ryan's gaze was drawn to the visual display that materialized before his eyes.
[System Activation Confirmed! Welcome to My Empire System. Displaying host status now.]
Race: Human
Name: Ryan Fitzroy
Title: The Reborn Prince
Location: Bathsheba, Thornvale
Role: System User/Prince
System Level: 1
Experience: 0/100
Skills:
- Leadership: Level 1 (Boosts command effectiveness and follower morale)
- Diplomacy: Level 1 (Improves negotiation outcomes and relationships)
- Strategy: Level 1 (Grants tactical advantages in battles and resource allocation)
- Survival: Level 1 (Enhances adaptability and resilience under tough conditions)
As Ryan perused the interface, he noted it included details of his identity, Ryan's name coincidentally matching the prince's name. But beyond these personal and skill level specifics, an alert captured his attention, echoing in his mind and flashing across the interface.
The system had just issued Ryan his first mission.
[Mission: Establish a Base of Power]
Objective: Transform Bathsheba into your undisputed stronghold. This entails assessing the village's resources, bolstering its defenses, and winning over the hearts and minds of the local populace.
Rewards: 500 XP, Access to the "Construction" feature, Enhancements to Charisma and Leadership skills.
Ryan pondered the mission with a contemplative stroke of his chin.
The mission's goals hinted at underlying challenges and power dynamics he would need to navigate carefully. Recalling his initial impressions of Bathsheba's higher-ups, adorned in animal skins yet displaying robust physiques, contrasted starkly with the villagers—rather, city-dwellers. Noting their simple, threadbare garments of linen or wool, and their noticeably undernourished appearances.
The disparity was striking. The city's elite, who had welcomed him at the gates, might not be as sharp or competent as they presented themselves. Yet, this observation led Ryan to speculate about the local economy, particularly the presence of flax plants in Bathsheba, likely cultivated in small plots or fields. This detail, as minor as it might seem, could be a crucial piece of the puzzle in understanding the city's resources and potential.
Before Ryan fully realized it, mere minutes had slipped by, and they had arrived at a modest, albeit run-down castle.
"We've arrived at the castle, Your Highness," reminded Gilbert, Ryan's middle-aged steward. Glancing at Gilbert, Ryan was surprised to see the man's detailed status before his eyes: [Race: Human. Name: Gilbert Renard. Role: Ryan's Steward, Knight, Chef...]
Seeing Gilbert's varied roles caught Ryan off guard, but it also brought a sense of relief—finally, he knew the name of the man who had been serving him all this time.
"Thanks, Gilbert," Ryan nodded appreciatively before stepping out of the carriage.
Gilbert, for his part, seemed taken aback—Ryan hadn't used his name in their recent interactions.
As Ryan's gaze fell upon the castle, he couldn't help but note its significance amidst the backdrop of what was more a village than a city. Despite its obvious neglect and the presence of undernourished guards, the castle held a certain allure.
Although it was clear the castle hadn't been well-maintained, Ryan was greeted by a thin, poorly-equipped guard upon arrival.
Inside the castle, Ryan's subordinates and servants couldn't help but chuckle at the sorry state of the place—the worn-out carpets, the miserable condition of the halls.
Gilbert watched Ryan's expression closely, expecting disappointment. But to his surprise, Ryan seemed unfazed.
Despite the castle's appearance, Ryan felt a surge of excitement. The "My Empire System" had given him newfound hope and determination. With this powerful tool at his disposal, the castle's current condition mattered little. Ryan was determined to turn Bathsheba into a prosperous city, fueled by the possibilities the system offered.
In the dipalitated castle nestled within the city of Bathsheba, Ryan found himself in the castle's office, Gilbert at his side.
Ryan had been at the castle for several hours, during which time he managed a brief conversation with some high-ranking officials from the Thornvale region who had come to visit. However, Ryan kept the exchange brief, wary of their intentions, suspecting they might be corrupt elements he'd eventually need to deal with. Aside from that, Ryan had the opportunity to sample the local cuisine—primarily fruits and vegetables—which, to his surprise, was quite palatable, especially considering he had braced himself for the worst.
Seeking insight into the state of affairs in both Thornvale and Bathsheba, Ryan turned to Gilbert.
Gilbert responded with candid concern, "I must admit, my Lord, this is my first visit to Bathsheba. The reality here is far grimmer than the rumors that had reached the capital suggested."
Ryan remained silent, absorbing the gravity of Gilbert's words, while Gilbert observed him quietly. Despite the challenging circumstances, it was evident to Gilbert that Ryan was deeply committed to his duties.
"Let's step outside and gauge the state of this city ourselves," Ryan proposed, catching Gilbert slightly off guard.
"Understood," Gilbert replied with a compliant nod. Together, they departed from the castle, making their way into the village beyond its walls.
As they ventured forth, Gilbert shared his insights on the Thornvale region with Ryan. "Apart from the city of Bathsheba, which stands as the only notable city in Thornvale, the region is dotted with various tribes, the exact number of which remains unknown."
"Unknown, you say? So, if the kingdom hasn't got a tally, it's safe to assume these tribes aren't under royal jurisdiction?" Ryan inquired, his brows knitting together in thought.
"Exactly, Your Highness," Gilbert confirmed. "Moreover, Bathsheba or Thornvale as whole, is well-regarded among merchants. They procure forageable goods here at low prices. The region of Thornvale is not only rich in such resources but also boasts a wealth of leafy greens and herbs."
Ryan pondered this as they left the castle's confines. "If the city has access to these resources, why does it remain impoverished?"
Gilbert sighed, "The city may have resources, Your Highness, but it's the tribes in the surrounding areas of Thornvale who manage to sell these goods to merchants at more attractive rates."
"They're trading with the tribes?" Ryan echoed, surprised.
"Yes, Your Highness," Gilbert confirmed. "It's believed the tribes place little value on money. Merchants often trade goods acquired cheaply from the capital or other kingdom cities—items like furniture, or even food—for these resources."
Ryan, puzzled, asked, "Given this information is known, surely the royal family and their ministers are aware?"
Gilbert looked confused. "I'm familiar with the royal family, Your Highness, but I'm not sure what is the term 'Ministers' you're referring to."
Ryan chuckled dryly, realizing the term 'minister' might not align with the vernacular of this new world he found himself in. "Never mind that. Just tell me, isn't the royal family aware of this situation?"
Gilbert let out a sigh, "Sadly, Your Highness, neither the royal family nor the royal council, nor even the citizens of Valthorn show concern for Bathsheba's welfare. The merchants, who opt to trade with the tribes rather than Bathsheba, hold significant influence due to their wealth, seem to have swayed the kingdom's indifference."
Internalizing these revelations, Ryan couldn't help but chuckle to himself. "It appears the kingdom of Valthorn doesn't see Bathsheba as a true part of its domain, does it?"
As they conversed, Ryan and Gilbert navigated the cluttered and unkempt streets of Bathsheba. The sight of them prompted the locals, who were going about their daily routines, to quickly retreat into their small, crumbling homes.
Ryan couldn't help but notice the apprehension in the air. He turned to Gilbert, "It seems the locals are quite wary of us, don't you think?"
Gilbert agreed, "It does appear so, Your Highness."
Ryan then shared his concern, "As the new lord of this city, how can I govern and serve my people if they're afraid of me? I need to understand this city better, to be guided by its people. Who will help us navigate and grasp the full extent of the situation here?"
Gilbert was visibly surprised by Ryan's words, reflecting on how much Ryan had changed. He remembered how, just days ago, Ryan had pleaded with the king, begging not to be sent to this remote city. Yet now, here he was, showing genuine concern for his new subjects.
Ryan sought to confirm some facts, turning back to Gilbert, "The Magistrate mentioned that the city's population is 738, correct?"
"Yes, Your Highness, that's correct," Gilbert replied, impressed by Ryan's memory and newfound resolve.
It was clear to Gilbert that Prince Ryan had come to terms with his fate, ready to embrace his role as the ruler of Bathsheba and the Thornvale region at large.
"We need someone from Bathsheba to show us around and help us truly understand this city. I prefer not to rely on officials who may have their own agendas. Hearing directly from the residents about their experiences and getting their guidance is what I'm after," Ryan explained, then continued with a hopeful expression, "Let's gather the citizens in the square. I wish to speak with them directly, to connect with my subjects."
Despite its appearance as a small village, Bathsheba boasted a square, an open area built by previous lords as a communal gathering space for its citizens.
Although not as expansive as those found in other cities within the Kingdom of Valthorn, it was amply sized to hold the city's population of 738.
Gilbert, observing the prince's initiative, felt a surge of admiration for the change in him, thinking to himself, "Lady Elena would be proud to see this," feeling a sense of joy at the prince's positive transformation.
As these thoughts passed through Gilbert's mind, Ryan was taken aback by a sudden, internal mechanical announcement: [Ding! The "Leadership" skill gained 0.10 XP! Level: 1.10!]
Puzzled by this unexpected notification, Ryan wondered, "What exactly did I do to earn experience points in leadership?"
Just outside the modest yet solitary castle in the city of Bathsheba, soldiers serving under Commander Ryan were engaged in quiet conversation.
"Man, how I wish I were back in the capital right now... It's just my luck to end up in this backwater, serving the so-called bastard prince," lamented Kuz, a soldier.
"You shouldn't gripe too much. Back in the capital, we're nothing but foot soldiers, mere peasants in armor. Things could be a lot worse if we were stationed somewhere even more dire," replied Claude, Kuz's comrade, with a heavy sigh.
"I'm still upset about that ambush a few days back. Lucky for us, those attackers pulled back for some reason, otherwise, I doubt we'd still be standing here..."
"Sure, we're alive, but look where we are—stuck in this dismal, forsaken city, under the command of a prince exiled to the middle of nowhere..."
The soldiers continued their murmured exchange until Claude suddenly warned, "Quiet down, guys! The prince and Sir Gilbert are coming!"
At his words, the soldiers snapped to attention, falling silent as they spotted Prince Ryan and Gilbert making their way toward the castle.
As the prince drew near, he stopped, casting a piercing gaze over each of the soldiers. His scrutinizing look, serious and penetrating, sent a wave of unease through the ranks, leaving them to wonder if their private grievances had been overheard.
Ryan surveyed his troops, pausing to take in the sight of each soldier standing at attention. From their point of view, it felt as though he was examining them closely, searching for something.
As he looked over his men, a sense of pity stirred within him. The state of their gear was a clear sign of their hardships—worn armor and swords that had seen better days were the norm among them.
"You." His finger singled out one of them, causing a ripple of confusion. "Claude," he finally added, identifying the soldier by name.
Claude was taken aback to hear the prince call him out by name, a sentiment shared by his comrades. The fact that Prince Ryan recognized him personally was a surprise to them all.
"Yes, Your Highness?" Claude stepped forward, bowing respectfully.
Ryan observed him thoughtfully, stroking his chin, while Gilbert stood by in silence, equally taken aback that Ryan knew Claude's name.
Unbeknownst to them, Ryan had access to a unique system that displayed the status of his people before his eyes:
[Race: Human
Name: Claude
Role: Commoner, Captain of Prince Ryan's Peasant soldiers, Formerly a novice farmer...]
With Claude's status floating before his eyes, Ryan chose to overlook the term "Peasant." Instead, he focused on Claude's role as captain. "Captain Claude, am I correct?" he asked, seeking confirmation from Claude himself.
Claude, as a mere peasant, felt touch and a rush of pride as Prince Ryan recognized him by name. Despite Ryan's complicated status as a bastard prince, Claude respectfully took a knee, saying, "Yes, Your Highness. To be acknowledged by you is an honor."
Ryan gave a nod, his expression one of mild satisfaction. "Claude, as the captain of my guard, I task you with assembling the soldiers. Spread the word through Bathsheba that their new lord invites them to the city square. I plan to give a speech, to share some thoughts with them. Attendance is purely voluntary—I have no wish to coerce anyone."
"Understood, Your Highness," Claude replied, his voice filled with respect.
"Excellent." Ryan's nod was thoughtful this time. He then turned his attention to the other soldiers near Claude. "Kuz, Al, Rey, Sid..." He acknowledged each by name, indicating his appreciation for their loyalty and service. "You've all done commendably in fulfilling your duties. The bravery you showed in the recent attacks has not gone unnoticed." With that, Ryan placed his right hand over his heart, closed his eyes, and offered a respectful nod, a silent gesture of gratitude.
The soldiers, taken aback that Ryan knew their names, shared looks of surprise. One by one, they responded, "Your Highness, protecting you is not just our duty; it's our honor."
"Exactly, Your Highness. We follow the royal decree to safeguard you," they affirmed in unison.
Their comrades also voiced their loyalty and support for Ryan.
With a warm smile, Ryan continued, "Right now, I might not have physical rewards to offer. But I assure you, if you stand by me and help navigate the challenges of governing this city, the rewards will be forthcoming. You will find satisfaction in our shared success." He paused, adding, "I haven't had the chance to thank the other soldiers personally yet, but please convey my gratitude and my promise to them."
The soldiers, their cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and flattery, were deeply moved by the prince's attention.
"It's an honor for the prince to know our names; that alone feels like a reward," Claude said, kneeling sincerely before Ryan.
Ryan gave a nod of acknowledgment, then spent some time chatting with the soldiers before he and a visibly surprised Gilbert headed back into the castle, Gilbert clearly taken aback by Ryan's recent words and actions.
Watching Prince Ryan walk away, Kuz couldn't help but express his surprise, "I had no idea Prince Ryan knew us by name..."
"It really was a shock. He made sure to make eye contact with each of us as he said our names. It shows he truly recognizes us," Al added, nodding in agreement.
"Serving a prince who shows such consideration doesn't seem too bad, does it?" Rey pondered aloud.
"Perhaps... But even though Prince Ryan's acknowledgment today was surprising, I'm still skeptical about whether he can keep his promises," Kuz admitted.
Claude playfully slung his arm around Kuz's neck, teasing, "Feeling a bit high and mighty, are we, Kuz? Just remember, we're all just peasants here. We should be thankful that Prince Ryan even bothers to acknowledge us."
Gilbert was profoundly impressed by Prince Ryan's remarkable memory. The fact that Ryan could recall the names of his soldiers, despite having only limited interactions with them, was truly astonishing.
Meanwhile, Ryan, internally smiling at the successful notification in his mind, realized his experiment had paid off. His "Leadership" skill had earned 0.15 XP, and his leadership level had increased by the same margin. In his interactions with the soldiers, Ryan exuded a blend of gentleness and grace, mirroring the demeanor of the commendable politicians he remembered from his past life.
At Prince Ryan's behest, Captain Claude rallied the 37 soldiers with a clear mission: to spread the word throughout Bathsheba that their new lord, Prince Ryan himself, was inviting everyone to the city square for a speech.
As the citizens went about their day, busy with work, selling, or shopping in the bustling small market, they initially greeted the soldiers with a hint of suspicion. However, once it became clear that the soldiers were simply there to share news, the atmosphere shifted. The mix of reactions among the citizens was palpable—some looked on with skepticism, others with a spark of curiosity, many showed interest, and a few even felt a wave of apprehension—all reflecting the wide range of feelings about Prince Ryan's upcoming speech.
About an hour later, Captain Claude reported back to Prince Ryan, letting him know that they had finished informing the citizens.
Ryan acknowledged with a nod. In just a few minutes, he planned to head to the city square with Gilbert.