Chapter 111: Goblins

"Clang! Clang!"

Countless pickaxes swung swiftly, scattering soil into the chilly early spring air. 

Despite the lingering cold, the fiery enthusiasm of the people of Zaltarion remained undeterred. 

Men toiled with their pickaxes to cultivate the land, while women guided oxen pulling plows or crushed clumps of soil underfoot.

"Ah~" Rynar closed his eyes, inhaling deeply the earthy scent of freshly tilled soil, and for a moment, his thoughts drifted back to the past.

"Unfortunately… there's no going back," Rynar murmured to himself, his voice laced with melancholy and resignation.

"What's wrong, my lord?" Caslow, walking alongside him, noticed Rynar's downcast expression and asked curiously.

"Nothing!" Rynar quickly shook off his thoughts, distracting himself by ruffling the mane of a sullen blue dragon sprawled over his saddle as if life had no meaning.

"Whimper~" Who would have thought that a noble elven dragon could whine like a defeated dog?

"How unlucky!" Rynar muttered under his breath as he caught the wide-eyed stares of the common folk of Riverguard, their gazes filled with shock. 

He suddenly felt like mud had fallen into his trousers—embarrassing beyond belief.

The pitiful sound abruptly stopped as Rynar's strong hand gripped the scruff of the dragon's neck, firmly asserting dominance.

"Cry again, and I'll use you to scrub the pots tonight!" Rynar threatened casually.

The dragon immediately quieted down, and Rynar let out a sigh of relief. 

That wretched sound had been absurdly ridiculous! From a distance, anyone unfamiliar with the situation might have thought he was doing something unspeakable atop his steed…

"Pass the word! Tell the commoners to rest where they are and start preparing meals!" Rynar turned to Lance, his steward, who stood dutifully at his side.

"At once, Your Majesty!" Lance replied and hurried off to carry out the orders.

The clatter of pots and pans mixed with the raucous shouting of the people, creating such a cacophony that Rynar felt his brain might burst. 

Grabbing a small detachment of knights, he rode away from the crowd to find a moment of peace. Only then did he let out a long breath, rubbing his ears. 

Any longer amidst that chaos, and he feared he'd lose his hearing altogether.

"Your Majesty? What brings you here?" Reynard, who was patrolling the perimeter with his soldiers, immediately recognized Rynar's lordly armor. 

Dismounting quickly, he jogged over to greet him.

"Don't ask," Rynar groaned. "The shouting back there was unbearable. It's just a meal—why are they acting like it's a festival?"

Bored, Rynar decided to check on the status of his domain. "System! Show me the territory!"

Riverguard:

Area: 

1 square kilometer Structures: A dilapidated lord's castle (x1), ordinary wooden houses (x200), intermediate rune-inscribed city walls, a stone well, a blacksmith shop, a barracks, an archer's sanctuary, farmland (under cultivation), a leatherworker's workshop, a small tavern (low on alcohol!) 

Leaders: 

Caslow (Tier 3) Reynard (Tier 4) Radir (Tier 4) Dylan (Tier 6) Lady Aivy (Tier 3) City Defense Officer: Marcus (Tier 4) Mayor: Lance (Tier 2) Troops: 2,088 soldiers Knights of the Holy Radiance: Tier 2 Knights (x100) Zaltarion City Guards: Tier 2 Warriors (x100) 

Battanian Archers: Tier 2 Archers (x700) Dunwenian Swordsmen: Tier 2 Swordsmen (x100) Elaris Woods Rangers: Tier 2 Rangers (x50) Lothlorian Rangers: Tier 2 Rangers (x50) Rapid Infantry: Riverguard Foot Soldiers (x683) Conscripted Light Infantry: Light Infantry (x200) Zaltarion Heavy Cavalry: Heavy Cavalry (x100) Clerics: Tier 2 Priests (x5) Population: 2,536 (trainable civilians: 1,037)

Evaluation: 

A lonely king leads his remaining people back to their homeland, building this city with tall walls. The population is sparse, but things are improving. The city boasts strong military defenses, enough to protect it for now. 

However, it cannot yet withstand the rising darkness on its own. The silver lining is the appointment of a City Defense Officer and a Mayor. 

The end of the war has brought a glimmer of hope to Zaltarion's last stronghold. Note: The great king has vowed to revive the nation, but time is racing against him.

Abilities:

As the last territory of the Zaltarion Kingdom in Middle-earth, it will attract surviving Zaltarion refugees. 

The system will guide one wave of wandering Zaltarion civilians to the city daily. The lord must accommodate them wisely. Allows recruitment of civilians as Rapid Infantry.

Affiliated Territory: Tupet Forest

"Tsk, tsk, tsk… other than a bit of population growth, not much has changed," Rynar remarked after scanning the report.

"Though, over a thousand conscripted Rapid Infantry? That's a nice surprise!" He nodded in satisfaction, thinking it might be time to train these men.

If needed, they could be quickly converted into fully-fledged Rapid Infantry.

"The alcohol shortage is serious," Rynar muttered, frowning deeply. 

With nearly 5,000 residents in Riverguard, even a small percentage of drinkers created significant demand. Plenty of people would want to unwind with a drink.

"But the root of the problem is still food," Rynar sighed, his frown deepening further. 

Alcohol required grain for brewing, and if Rynar had enough spare grain, he wouldn't be leading people to clear farmland in the first place.

"I need a solution—letting the tavern shut down isn't an option," he resolved. Taverns were vital hubs for gathering information. Losing it would weaken his grip on the territory.

"Looks like I'll have to organize trade caravans across Middle-earth," Rynar admitted reluctantly. 

He had hoped to keep Zaltarion hidden longer, focusing on internal development, but the dire lack of resources forced his hand. 

Without trading for urgently needed supplies, the city wouldn't survive. The food shortage alone would doom them before the autumn harvest.

"Lance!" Rynar called.

Moments later, Lance, dressed in his noble attire, appeared at Rynar's side.

"What are your orders, Your Majesty?" Lance asked respectfully.

"Do you think we should open trade routes and let merchants conduct business?" Rynar asked after a long silence.

"Your Majesty, why would you consider such a thing?" Lance asked, surprised. 

The policy of prioritizing development had been unanimously agreed upon. Opening trade routes now would expose Riverguard to outside scrutiny. 

Only regions like the Shire or Gondor were safe trade partners; everywhere else was either too chaotic or controlled by dark forces.

"We can't hold out any longer," Rynar admitted bluntly. "At most, we have half a month before we completely run out of food."

"Ugh!"

"Oh no!"

"What's going on? Go check it out!" Rynar exclaimed as a commotion broke out among the townsfolk. He immediately dispatched soldiers to investigate.

"Goblins!"

"There are really goblins!"

"Is this what a goblin looks like?"

The crowd gathered around a small, green-skinned creature barely 1.2 meters tall. Judging by its appearance, it was unmistakably a goblin, matching every description from lore.

"What's happening, folks? What's going on here?" A knight on horseback pushed through the throng to inquire.

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