The last of the Thornprowlers fell to an arrow from Elyndra, the shaft striking clean through its skull. The forest fell silent once more.

  I stood there, chest heaving, sweat running down my face in steady rivulets—but I didn’t stop to rest.

  “Gather what you can,” I ordered sharply. “We’re moving on.”

  It had been over two hours since we’d stumbled across that group of adventurers. We’d gone north, keeping to the shadows, avoiding their patrols—but we hadn’t stopped hunting.

  I couldn’t stop.

  Now more than ever, I needed my monsters ready. Every single one of them.

  [The Herald has slain Thornprowler (Lv. 6)! — +70 Soul Essence]

  [Falkar has slain Thornprowler (Lv. 9)! — +91 Soul Essence]

  [Elyndra has slain Thornprowler (Lv.9)! — +91 Soul Essence]

  [Skreek has slain Thornprowler (Lv. 7!) — +80 Soul Essence]

  [The Herald has slain Thornprowler (Lv. 6)! — +70 Soul Essence]

  [Skill Level Up! — Swordsmanship has reached Level 4!]

  Elyndra had hit Level 10. Falkar too. Skreek was close—Level 9—and even Dominic and Sootwing were catching up.

  But it still wasn’t enough.

  I clenched my sword tighter.

  When we went home today, every last one of them would evolve. I’d make sure of it. Because next time… next time, we might not have the chance.

  We didn’t have to go far before we caught the scent of blood again.

  The rain came harder now, turning the ground to mud, but the smell was fresh—too fresh.

  Falkar sniffed the air, growling low, while Elyndra’s head moved in sharp, quick jerks—watching, listening, waiting.

  The trail led us to the aftermath of another skirmish—two adventurers, or what was left of them, and something else. Deep claw marks carved through the mud. Trees bent and splintered. A creature large enough to uproot small trunks.

  “It’s still close,” Analth warned.

  She was right. The growl came first—low and wet—and then a shape pushed through the brush: a four-legged beast covered in moss-green bone plates, its maw splitting open like a flower of fangs.

  I didn’t recognize it, but I could see it was wounded—cautious, defensive rather than hunting.

  [Taming Possible]

  The notification blinked across my vision, unprompted.

  Taming.

  I’d almost forgotten that was an option.

  Halvard began to chant, flame already forming between his hands, but I raised a hand.

  “Wait.”

  He froze mid-incantation. I stepped forward slowly, keeping my blade sheathed. The beast’s head tracked my movement, muscles tense, but it didn’t lunge. Not yet.

  When I reached it, I pressed a hand against its flank. It growled, low and guttural—not in warning, but in pain.

  I frowned, running my fingers along its mossy plating until I found the source: a jagged shard of metal buried deep in its side. The broken tip of a sword.

  “This might hurt,” I murmured.

  The creature tensed as I gripped the metal and yanked it free. The shard sliced my palm open on the way out, blood dripping into the mud.

  The beast roared, leaping back, shaking violently like a dog trying to dry itself.

  For a moment, I just stared—then gasped as the wound began to close before my eyes.

  “A Bogmaw,” Analth said quietly. Her voice was calm, but I caught a hint of respect there.

  My system flickered, confirming what Analth said.

  [Torval - Bogmaw Level 9]

  [Average Stats: 8]

  [Average Skill Level: 2]

  [Number of Skills: 3]

  The taming had worked—somehow.

  “A Bogmaw,” I repeated under my breath, still watching it. “How strong are they?”

  “Against veteran adventurers, they’d struggle,” Analth admitted. “But against rookies or novices? They’d tear through a party without effort.”

  I met Torval’s gaze again. The beast stared back, calm now, its eyes no longer feral—just… aware. Respectful.

  I let out a low whistle, impressed. I’d just gained a powerful ally.

  “Good,” I murmured. “You’ll be needed in the battles to come.”

  It was late afternoon by the time we found our next fight.

  A group of adventurers moved cautiously through the trees—five in total.

  A human fighter, judging by his armor and stance.

  An elf mage wrapped in loose robes, and another elf beside him—this one carrying a holy symbol, probably a priest or paladin.

  A dwarf trailed behind with a crossbow.

  And another human brought up the rear, a dual-wielder with a sword and dagger both drawn.

  Analth’s quiet assessment was that they were rookies—greenhorns pushing further into the woods than they should have.

  We watched them for a while, silent and unseen, until I nodded.

  “Let’s see what you can do, Torval,” I said quietly. “You’ll lead the charge.”

  The Bogmaw rumbled—a sound between a growl and a howl—and the adventurers froze, heads snapping toward the trees.

  A heartbeat later, Torval burst from the undergrowth like a force of nature. His claws flashed once, and the dual-wielder didn’t even have time to scream before being hurled backward—crashing through branches and slamming into a tree with a sickening crack.

  Even I winced at that.

  The adventurers screamed.

  Elyndra charged next, meeting the fighter in a clash of spear and sword, sparks flying as steel met steel—Dominic right behind her, shield raised to intercept counterblows.

  Falkar and Skreek rushed the paladin, overwhelming him with sheer ferocity.

  Halvard unleashed a storm of shadow and flame toward the mage, while Roderik and Sootwing exchanged volleys with the dwarf’s crossbow.

  And me?

  This time, I just watched.

  I didn’t need to intervene—not in a battle this one-sided. Instead, I took the opportunity to observe. To study how my monsters fought when left to their instincts.

  Analth stood beside me, arms folded, her expression mirroring my own.

  Falkar and Skreek worked seamlessly—Skreek darting in to harass with his spear while Falkar searched for weak points in the paladin’s armor.

  If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Halvard’s magic far outclassed the elf mage’s; that duel ended so quickly it was almost pitiful.

  Elyndra danced around the fighter, quite literally. It was as if she moved to a rhythm only she could hear, her spear flicking out in precise, cutting bursts. The fighter’s armor was already bleeding from a dozen shallow slashes that would soon add up. Dominic, for his part, held the line—shielding her from the worst of the blows, but rarely needing to intervene.

  Roderik let Sootwing handle most of the ranged exchange, taking shots only when the dwarf lined up a kill. The imp’s aim was viciously accurate; by the time the dwarf fell, he looked like a pincushion.

  Soon, the battle was over. My monsters stood victorious, roaring and cheering in triumph.

  [Torval has slain Tobi Tetzlaff (Lv. 7)! — +117 Soul Essence]

  [Falkar has slain Katarina Brausewetter (Lv. 6)! — +100 Soul Essence]

  [Elyndra has slain Lukas Dassler (Lv.4)! — +72 Soul Essence]

  [Sootwing has slain Gabriel Heinrich (Lv. 7!) — +117 Soul Essence]

  [Halvard has slain Sascha Treitschke (Lv. 6)! — +100 Soul Essence]

  Another sizable haul of Soul Essence—more proof that adventurers were worth far more than any monster.

  “Your minions fight well,” Analth remarked.

  “They do well for a ragtag bunch, I’ll give them that,” I said with a small grin, glancing at my gathered army. The sight made that grin widen.

  Falkar had hit level ten, as had Skreek.

  Sootwing and Dominic were both level nine now.

  And Elyndra—my Elite—had reached level ten as well. That one surprised even me.

  I couldn’t help but wonder just what kind of powerhouse she’d become once she evolved.

  “Alright,” I said at last, tone firm but proud. “Let’s head back for the day.”

  We returned home, not bothering to strip the adventurers of their mediocre equipment. I had more important things to deal with.

  Right away, I began the evolution process for the three who were ready.

  Each entered their respective huts before I initiated it—Skreek and Falkar first. Their timers appeared just like before: three hours each.

  Elyndra, though, was different. When I selected her, the system flashed something new.

  [Evolve Elite Monster]

  [Time: 6:00:00h]

  [Cost: 400 Soul Essence]

  “Interesting,” I murmured. So higher-tier monsters didn’t just take longer—they cost more too.

  I had plenty of Soul Essence banked after today’s fights, but it was good to know for the future. Every choice from now on would come with a cost.

  With the evolutions set, I glanced at my remaining Soul Essence.

  [Soul Essence: 1147]

  Enough for another Elite if I wanted one.

  But no—I needed to remember what Analth had said about balance.

  Besides, I’d already earned an achievement for summoning five minions; it stood to reason there’d be more for building out a proper mix of Standards, Elites, and beyond.

  [Summon 2x Standard Monster?]

  “Yes” I murmured, selecting the option.

  The Core flared to life, flooding the cave with light. When it faded, I found myself staring at another Hobgoblin—this one female—and… something else.

  The second figure loomed taller than even my new height. Its skin was a deep violet, faintly luminescent where glowing runes pulsed along its arms and chest. A broad, bulbous nose dominated its heavy face, and its frame was thick with muscle and layered fat, giving it a brutish, immovable look.

  Its hair, long and matted, hung like a curtain of stone-gray strands over its shoulders.

  The Hobgoblin immediately dropped to one knee, eyes sharp and calculating. The larger creature just blinked, slow and curious, sniffing the air as though deciding whether I was friend or food.

  [Varka - Hobgoblin Level 5]

  [Average Stats: 4]

  [Average Skill Level: 2]

  [Number of Skills: 3]

  [Bjorrek - Troll Level 4]

  [Average Stats: 3]

  [Average Skill Level: 2]

  [Number of Skills: 5]

  A troll.

  My first, and honestly… it looked about how I expected—massive, ugly, and a little awe-inspiring. Maybe smaller than I’d imagined, but still towering over everything else in the cave.

  The thought hit me then—how would something bigger even fit in here?

  If Bjorrek already had to hunch under the ceiling, what would happen if I tried to summon something like a giant or, gods forbid, a dragon?

  Maybe the cave would expand as the Core leveled up.

  I could only hope so.

  Next came equipment for my two new minions. I just hoped I had enough to outfit them properly.

  I’d learned with Sootwing that gear adjusted itself to fit whoever held it—but that didn’t help much if I didn’t have anything worth giving.

  I really should’ve stripped those adventurers earlier.

  Ah well. Lesson learned.

  To Varka, I offered a set of beginner’s leather armor and an Ashwood longbow. She took both with a nod, testing the bowstring before slinging it over her shoulder.

  Bjorrek, though… was a different story.

  Nothing seemed to interest him until I dug deep into my inventory and found something I’d nearly forgotten—a heavy iron flail from my first real fight.

  When he took it, the chain rattled ominously. In his massive hands, the weapon looked right.

  And deeply intimidating.

  I wouldn’t want to be on the receiving end of that swing.

  With equipment sorted, I dismissed the two new monsters and moved on to my next task: figuring out how the hell to gather more stone and lumber.

  It clearly wasn’t happening automatically, and that was a problem.

  For answers, I went to find Analth.

  As expected, she was in front of her hut again—blade in hand, polishing it with her usual focus.

  “Analth,” I started, scratching my head. “How do I go about earning more resources?”

  She glanced up at me, brows furrowing slightly. “How do you mean, Herald?”

  “Well…” I gestured vaguely toward the huts and the well. “I need lumber and stone to build all this. I was just wondering how I’m supposed to get more.”

  She blinked once—then laughed.

  Not a chuckle, not a polite laugh—an actual, you can’t be serious kind of laugh.

  When I didn’t join in, she sighed.

  “You harvest it, Herald,” she said, like she was explaining basic math to a child.

  “Harvest… it?” I repeated slowly.

  Another sigh. “You can do it the old-fashioned way—send your monsters to mine or chop trees. Or you can use your own innate ability to harvest directly. There’s lumber all around you, and stone all through the hill your cave’s built into.”

  I frowned, not entirely sure what she meant by innate ability.

  She stood then, sheathing her blade before gesturing for me to follow. “Come. I’ll show you.”

  We walked to a nearby cluster of trees—a small grove of oaks and pines just east of the village. The air smelled damp from the rain, heavy with sap and soil.

  “As far as I understand it,” Analth said, running a hand across a rough oak trunk, “all Heralds have a built-in connection to the land. You don’t need tools. Just focus on the resource you want, and will it to be harvested.”

  I frowned, unsure. So far, nothing in the system had mentioned lumber or stone gathering, but… Analth had been around far longer than I had. If anyone knew, it was her.

  I stepped forward and placed my hand on one of the trees, focusing on it the way I did when interacting with the Core. For a few seconds, nothing happened. I just felt ridiculous, standing there touching bark.

  Then came the familiar ping.

  [Harvest Lumber?]

  [Time: 00:01:00]

  “Oh…” I breathed. “There it is.”

  Much like the building prompts in the Kingdom Menu, this one gave me a timer. As I opened my eyes, faint green outlines shimmered around several nearby trees—an eerie, ghostly glow that pulsed in time with the Core’s light.

  I guessed it was the system’s way of saying these can be harvested.

  I pressed Yes, and the trees began to glow—pale light pulsing like my Core when it summoned monsters.

  After a minute, the glow faded. The trees were gone.

  [Lumber Gained: +60]

  Analth smiled faintly. “And there you have it, Herald. It’s that simple.”

  For a moment, I felt like a student who’d just cleared a tutorial prompt, but I pushed the thought aside.

  So I didn’t have to rely on the Marketplace after all; I could gather what I needed myself.

  Looking toward the scattered boulders near the cave entrance—and the endless forest surrounding us—I made up my mind. I’d focus on gathering stone while the others hunted.

  I turned to Halvard and Roderik, both of whom bowed the moment my gaze met theirs.

  “Halvard. Roderik.” I gestured toward the others not currently evolving. “Take Dominic, Sootwing, Varka, and Bjorrek. Hunt the surrounding woods. Avoid anything too dangerous, and return either when everyone hits level ten or the sun goes down.”

  “Yes, Herald.”

  “As you command, Herald.”

  They bowed in unison, gathering the group before marching off into the misty trees.

  As for me... I turned back toward the cave. The stone wouldn’t mine itself—and by the time my minions returned, I wanted more than a few huts and a well to show for it.

  [Current Day: 4]

  [Soul Essence: 147]

  [Kingdom Core: Level 2]

  [Domain Size: 2 Sectors]

  [Active Quest: Evolution — 12 Hours Remaining (2/3 Monsters | in Progress)]