Alaric did nothing more.
His part was done.
The seed had been planted.
And it was Lord Crydias who moved next.
With the golden seal of the goddess as silent testimony, he mobilized the estate's stewards and quartermasters. Empty wings of the estate were prepared. Carts were sent to nearby trade posts under the guise of supply movement. And by the second night, the first families from the slums began arriving—quietly, under cover of darkness, just as Alaric had instructed.
Lord Crydias didn't ask questions. He didn't need to.
This was an opportunity. And he, a man of vision, seized it with both hands.
The slumfolk were given basic clothing, assigned quarters, offered food. Within days, work was arranged. Some were assigned to kitchens. Others to distribution teams. A few, stronger men and women, were sent to the storage depots that served as the heart of the Crydias food network.
There was no fanfare.
No announcement.
Only movement.
And in movement, lives began to change.
