A new day arrived, and Kene found himself settling into a steady rhythm. Mornings were spent training with the guards. They remained somewhat standoffish, though they had grown accustomed to his presence—everyone except Henrir, who still looked as though he might tackle Kene at any moment.

  This time, Kene performed better during the laps, finishing fourth from last and narrowly avoiding extra punishment. He was careful to regulate his cultivation, ensuring he didn’t draw unwanted attention or repeat his earlier mistake.

  Weight training followed without much variation, as did spear drills. His technique had improved enough that Merva allowed him to stay behind for more advanced practice. The new drills involved multi-hit strikes, and they quickly exposed how little natural talent he had with the spear. Still, Kene didn’t complain. Progress was progress.

  After training, Kene retreated to his office and resumed work on the agricultural array. The design was still in its conceptual stage, and he would need to visit the farms personally to refine the geometry and rune placement. Only then could he determine what materials would be required and whether the plan was feasible on a larger scale.

  In theory, the array was simple. Several nodes would gather and gently concentrate ambient mana across the fields. The effect wouldn’t be dramatic—certainly not enough to turn crops into rare treasures—but it would subtly enrich the soil and environment. Each node contained one quarter of four layered enchantments. One layer functioned as a temperature regulator, ensuring the crops remained within an optimal range and were protected from sudden shifts that could stunt growth or cause rot.

  The true core of the array, however, was the propagation enchantment. It was a carefully balanced blend of earth, water, and light magic, designed to imitate—however imperfectly—the feats of the famed Green Mage, who had once accomplished such miracles through affinity alone. The enchantment reinforced the plants at a structural level, repelling parasites while ensuring consistent, healthy growth. The result was produce that was hardier, tastier, and longer-lasting than ordinary crops.

  There were more efficient elemental ratios and crop-specific variations that could further optimize yield, but Kene had no intention of pursuing perfection. He was a battle mage by trade, not a botanist, and the array only needed to be effective enough to survive the coming winter.

  Kene allowed himself a small smile. Once the food shortage was resolved, the surplus could be sold at a premium. The quality, he was confident, would speak for itself.

  ***

  Mikkel escorted Kene toward the agricultural sector to meet the territory’s head of farming, Mr. Jav Inken.

  Kene thought.

  “Mikkel,” Kene asked casually, “what is the name of my territory again?”

  “Greymare, young master,” Mikkel replied without hesitation.

  “Ah—Greymare. Thank you.” Kene nodded, and Mikkel returned the gesture.

  Jav Inken was a completely bald man clad in simple brown robes, his frame thick with a potbelly that didn’t quite conceal the powerful arms beneath. He was tall for his age—at least a foot taller than Ester’s body—and his tanned skin bore the unmistakable marks of decades spent under the sun. A farmer through and through.

  Behind him stretched the crop fields, where laborers worked methodically among the rows. Kene frowned faintly at the sight of their tools—crude, outdated, and inefficient. It was a stark reminder that this was not the Golden Era. Enchanted implements, once common, had become status symbols reserved for nobles and mages. By the time Kene had been born in his previous life, such distinctions had all but vanished with the fall of monarchies.

  he thought.

  Jav bowed deeply as they approached. Kene noticed the sweat clinging to the man’s brow, though he couldn’t immediately discern why.

  “This humble servant greets Master Ester Flamebearer,” Jav said reverently.

  The title caught Kene off guard. This was his first direct interaction with a civilian since his return, and it struck him how much weight his name carried here—despite his reputation as a cripple and his removal from succession.

  “Raise your head, Mr. Inken,” Kene said calmly. “The pleasure is mine.”

  Jav visibly startled at the courtesy, fumbling for a moment before regaining his composure. “T-thank you, young master.”

  “I trust Mikkel has already informed you why I’m here,” Kene continued.

  “Yes,” Jav replied quickly. “You wish to survey the crop fields.”

  “Then please,” Jav gestured, “allow me to escort you.”

  As they walked, Kene quietly mapped the terrain in his mind—the field dimensions, elevation changes, and potential placements for mana focuses and signal relays. One detail, however, troubled him. The ambient mana dropped off sharply across the fields. It wasn’t depleted to the near-vacuum levels he remembered from certain regions in his past life, but for this era, the decline was significant.

  he wondered.

  Jav seemed to misinterpret Kene’s contemplative expression as displeasure and hurried to explain.

  “The year has been unkind to us, young master,” Jav said solemnly. “The farmers and I have done all we can, but I fear this year’s yield will not be enough to carry us through the winter.”

  “I’m aware,” Kene replied, turning to face him. “Mikkel has briefed me on the measures you’ve already taken. You have my gratitude.”

  Jav bowed again, flustered. “The young master is too kind.”

  “How long will the current stores last?” Kene asked.

  Jav hesitated before answering. “At most, five days for all of Greymare. Enough to soften the blow—but not to endure the winter.”

  Kene nodded slowly. “I see.”

  He paused, then asked, “Why was this location chosen for the fields?”

  Jav blinked, momentarily confused. “It’s always been here, young master. We’ve never had issues—until two years ago. The change was sudden. We still don’t understand why.”

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Kene thought.

  Aloud, he said, “Rest assured, this crisis will be addressed. I’m organizing a joint effort between our mages and blacksmiths. Mikkel will keep you informed of developments.”

  Jav’s eyes lit with cautious hope. “Thank you, young master. I await the good news.”

  They parted ways shortly after.

  “Mikkel,” Kene said as they walked.

  “Yes, Master Ester?”

  Kene handed him the array blueprint. “Deliver this to our most skilled blacksmith. Inform them this is a funded commission issued directly by me. I want an estimate on materials before we proceed.”

  Mikkel studied the diagrams, confusion flickering across his face. “You designed this yourself, Master Ester?”

  “With input from our mages,” Kene replied. “If further clarification is needed, notify me. I’ll speak with them personally.”

  “As you wish,” Mikkel said, bowing before departing.

  On his way back to the compound, Kene spotted Celiel and two other mages deep in discussion. One of them briefly manifested an improved array formation before dispersing it.

  Kene smiled quietly—and continued on his way.

  ***

  Kene sat cross-legged on his bed, eyes closed in quiet concentration. Mana flowed through him in steady cycles as he cultivated through circulation, carefully widening his mana veins with each pass.

  Unlike the First Gate, the Second demanded patience. It was not an insurmountable hurdle, but it was not something that could be rushed without consequence.

  At the earliest, he estimated the breakthrough would come after the beast den raid. He could accelerate the process if he wished, but for now, he preferred restraint. His body still needed tempering.

  Proper physical conditioning over the coming weeks would ensure the transition was smooth rather than destructive.

  Once the Second Gate opened, he would cross firmly into the realm of the superhuman. Among Enforcers, the second tier was widely regarded as the point where the path truly began, the moment a mortal stepped beyond their natural limits. The Fourth Gate, often called the first step of transcendence, marked the awakening of an elemental affinity. That was the milestone many aspired to.

  It was also where Kene’s progress had stalled in his past life. Most mages never went further along the physical path, choosing instead to advance through mana circles. If he failed to obtain any fortuitous treasures capable of repairing his core, he would be forced to push onward to the Fifth Gate.

  At that level, the body became so thoroughly infused with mana that abnormalities began to repair themselves passively. His atrophied core would be no exception. Only then would the path to structured spellcasting finally open to him, allowing him to properly wield the knowledge he carried from the future.

  But that day was still distant. For now, the present demanded his attention.

  A knock sounded at his door, pulling him from his thoughts. Kene gradually slowed his circulation until the mana settled, then opened his eyes.

  “Come in,” he said.

  The door opened and one of the maids entered, a young woman with clear blue eyes. She bowed respectfully.

  “Greetings, young master. Everyone has been assembled in your office. They are awaiting your arrival.”

  Kene rose to his feet, calm purpose settling over him.

  he thought. ‘We can finally begin planning to reclaim the mines.’

  ***

  There was no formal meeting room available, so the discussion was held in Kene’s office, additional chairs arranged to accommodate the attendees. Mikkel stood beside him as always, acting as both aide and silent observer.

  Knight Merva was present as the leader of the guard unit, accompanied by her second-in-command, Gorjan. Despite his youth, the man was built like a guard tower, broad-shouldered and solid, his presence alone conveying reliability and strength.

  On the mage side, Celiel attended as the strongest among them, having reached the Second Circle. She was joined by two First Circle mages, Dule and Preema. Dule was a short, bookish youth with mousy brown hair and circular glasses that constantly threatened to slide down his nose.

  Preema, by contrast, was tall and gaunt beneath her mage robes, her hair an unusual shade of blue and her expression locked into a permanent scowl that suggested she found the entire affair irritating.

  Kene contemplated forcing a summon from Alton, but decided to table it for now. He was still a bit weary of the man, and his motives.

  Kene let his gaze pass over everyone in the room before speaking, taking a moment to let the silence settle. Guards and mages alike straightened under the quiet scrutiny.

  “Thank you all for coming on such short notice,” he said calmly. “I will be direct. The situation in the mines has reached a point where inaction is no longer an option.”

  He folded his hands on the desk, posture relaxed but deliberate.

  “The beast den beneath the mine has already cost us lives, trade, and critical resources. More importantly, it is preventing access to materials we require to secure Greymare’s survival through the coming winter.” His eyes briefly flicked to Mikkel, then back to the others. “That changes today.”

  Kene paused, allowing the weight of his words to settle over the room before continuing.

  “Knight Merva,” he said evenly, “I have read your report on the previous raid. However, for those present who were not involved, I would like you to recount the engagement and any insights you believe will be relevant for a second attempt. Anyone else is free to add details if something important was overlooked.”

  Merva nodded once and straightened, her gaze moving deliberately from guard to mage as she spoke.

  “Our scouts provided rough estimates of the beast numbers and their patrol routes,” she began. “After consulting the librarian, we confirmed the creatures were spikebacked wolves. Tier One magical beasts. Stronger than mundane wolves, but not by a significant margin.”

  She glanced briefly toward Celiel.

  “As their name suggests, they possess bone spikes along their spines, which they can launch as ranged projectiles. A coordinated guard unit can defeat one without excessive difficulty, which we did, with the mages providing rear support.”

  Her expression darkened slightly.

  “We made steady progress until we reached the mine entrance.”

  She took a measured breath.

  “The beasts were the same species, but the tier had increased. Tier Two variants. Larger, more resilient, but the primary issue was that their bone projectiles were infused with mana.”

  Celiel took that as her cue to speak.

  “It significantly increased the strain on our defensive spells,” she said. “Mana shields that would normally endure Tier One attacks shattered quickly. I was forced to compensate personally, which accelerated the depletion of my reserves.”

  Merva exhaled sharply.

  “With Great Mage Alton present, the engagement would have been far smoother,” she said without hesitation. “However, we proceeded with the resources available. We managed to push through and took a brief rest before entering the mine proper.”

  Kene remained silent, already forming conclusions. The pattern was obvious. The beasts were cultivating, drawing power from the Aitum Crystals within the mine. The closer the unit advanced, the stronger the resistance became.

  Inside the mine, Merva continued, conditions initially favored them.

  “There was a mix of Tier One and Tier Two variants. The confined tunnels limited their mobility and allowed the mages to overwhelm them before they could reposition or launch coordinated attacks.”

  She hesitated for a fraction of a second.

  “That is when the unknown variable appeared.”

  The room grew still.

  “Our scouts failed to detect it during the initial sweep,” Merva said. “A Tier Three variant.”

  Several expressions tightened. A Tier Three magical beast was not something a provincial force was expected to handle.

  “It was significantly larger than the others,” Merva continued. “Stronger, more aggressive. But the most dangerous factor was its affinity. Its bone spikes were imbued with ice-aspected mana.”

  She clenched her fist.

  “It sealed the tunnels with ice, cutting off our retreat. We were forced to hold position while Mage Celiel and her unit dismantled the blockade. They worked quickly—but not quickly enough.”

  Her voice did not waver.

  “Two guards were pierced and frozen solid. A third was killed by a slashing strike to the throat.”

  The room was silent.

  Kene studied Merva carefully. The fact that she could recount the losses without faltering spoke volumes about her discipline.

  “I assume it did not pursue you once you withdrew,” Kene said.

  “It did not, Young Master,” Merva replied. “Once we cleared the cave, it merely watched us retreat.”

  Mockery, Kene thought. Or patience.

  The beast had no need to chase prey that would eventually return. And when they did, it would be stronger.

  We cannot afford delay.

  “Thank you, Knight Merva,” Kene said. “That account was thorough.”

  He shifted his gaze to the rest of the room.

  “Now that everyone understands what went wrong, we can discuss what will be done differently this time.”

  He paused.

  What he intended to say next would not be well received. But it was necessary.

  “This time,” Kene said evenly, “I will be spearheading the operation.”

  The reaction was immediate.

  Mikkel’s expression hardened in alarm. One of the mages gasped outright. Even Merva’s composure cracked for an instant, disbelief flickering across her face.

  The room erupted into stunned silence.