Felix seemed to have thought of something. He set down the map in his hands and spoke calmly,
"Expand the planned territory of the Frontier District—double its size."
Hoederer exhaled quietly, a weight lifted from his chest. Still, a hint of guilt lingered in his expression. The Sarkaz mercenaries had all seen what kind of person the Pioneer was. Felix wasn't one of them—he could have easily taken his people from Tomorrow's Development and abandoned this mess entirely. Yet he chose to stay.
Thinking about how some of the mercenaries still harbored prejudice against the Pioneer despite everything, Hoederer could only shake his head. Fools. Utter fools.
Without the Pioneer, there would be no Frontier District at all.
"About the food situation," Felix continued, rubbing his temples. "In the short term, I want every able-bodied Sarkaz working the fields. Buy the best soil and seeds you can find—and have them start planting immediately."
He paused, then added with a calculating glint in his eyes,
"Tell them this: however much land they cultivate, that land will belong to them."
It was the same policy once used by the Americans to encourage westward expansion. Felix was simply applying it to the Sarkaz. They were born warriors, but fighting didn't produce food—unless, of course, they went mad with hunger and started raiding neighboring nations.
Though Felix was a Sankta, he saw Kazdel as a potential garden for the future. He wouldn't allow the Sarkaz name to be dragged through the mud.
Start from the basics—agriculture first. That would secure long-term stability. As for the short term, he planned to borrow some food from the General's faction. Naturally, he wouldn't go himself; instead, he'd send a group of Sarkaz mercenaries to negotiate.
They're all Sarkaz—maybe a little pleading will do the trick.
And if that didn't work... well, there were always other ways.
After assigning the rest of the cleanup to Hoederer, Felix stood up. Ines silently melted into his shadow, following as he headed toward the next meeting site.
"How much food do we have left in storage?" he asked.
"The reserves were enough for one winter," Ines replied softly. "But with the influx of new residents into the Frontier District, we might not even make it to December."
"Then buy out the surrounding merchants' supplies," Felix ordered. "If they've come to Kazdel to trade, I don't believe for a second they don't have stockpiles."
Ines nodded. She could sense his energy—he wasn't defeated by the grim news. Instead, there was something almost exhilarating about the way he faced the challenge, a spark of excitement that caught her off guard. Most people would feel overwhelmed, but Felix looked as though he was enjoying the game.
"I want every Sarkaz who can move to get moving," Felix continued, counting on his fingers as he spoke. "That includes civilians. Make sure everyone knows this."
"The Frontier District doesn't just belong to Tomorrow's Development—it belongs to the Sarkaz people as well."
"I'll make sure that message spreads," Ines replied.
"That's all for now."
Felix started walking again, then paused halfway down the corridor and turned slightly.
"Thank you. And thank W for me too. She did an excellent job handling the assassin incident. The teachers' safety in the Frontier District is thanks to her."
Ines couldn't help but smile as she imagined W's reaction—pretending to scoff, her sharp tongue hiding the satisfaction underneath. Then, with a faint shimmer, Ines vanished into shadow.
The storm was coming, but Felix only felt more driven.
He retrieved his core construction unit and began hammering away at a new project—a structure reminiscent of a Terran Command Center from StarCraft. It could house a large number of people while also generating the energy needed for construction.
The mobile cities of Kazdel relied on burning Originium fuel for power and movement, while Babel's Rhodes Island operated on a minimal-energy mode to avoid consuming massive amounts of resources.
This new structure, however, came equipped with a solar energy conversion system. Kazdel's brutal heat and scarce rainfall made it an ideal source of power—sunlight was abundant, even if comfort was not.
Felix had consulted Muelsyse about the technical details. And his partner for the actual construction work?
Skadi—currently in electrician mode.
She had put away her greatsword, traded her uniform for a bright yellow electrician's outfit, and looked adorably serious as she studied the schematics. Without asking many questions, she began wiring circuits with practiced precision.
With Skadi's help, the progress was much faster. At the same time, players began expanding new territories, and even the Sarkaz residents joined in.
Here, in this land of freedom and renewal—the Frontier District—there was no war, no hatred. Only soil rich with possibility and people striving for a better tomorrow.
The Sarkaz no longer wished to return to the ruins of their past.
They no longer wanted to wander without roots or purpose.
They wanted a home.
For now—at least in this moment—every Sarkaz in the Frontier District was working hard.
They labored for their own future, and for the futures of their children.
In recent days, groups of fast-traveling mercenaries had begun arriving at the city. Each of them was subjected to thorough inspections before entry. When it was confirmed they came from the Scar Market, the veteran Sarkaz mercenaries immediately fixed their eyes on a few suspicious figures. Yet those newcomers quickly joined the city's work crews, leaving the veterans puzzled.
What happened to the Scar Market mercs? Since when did they start acting so obedient?
"People don't need much to feel happy," Felix said, standing beside Ulšulah as he watched the bustling city below. "As long as they have food, warmth, and a place to sleep comfortably—that's enough to make anyone happy."
Ulšulah nodded slightly, handing him a new entry list for the incoming Sarkaz mercenary teams.
"And what about after they've eaten and rested well?" she asked, her tone casual but curious.
"…Then they start thinking about other desires?"
Ulšulah's cheeks turned red. She clicked her tongue and playfully smacked his shoulder before leaning forward and planting a quick kiss on his lips. Straightening her uniform, she turned away with her usual brisk energy.
"I'm heading to the frontlines to arrange the manpower," she said, striding off without another glance.
Setting aside the food issue—this was also an opportunity for Tomorrow's Development to expand its influence.
Felix smiled faintly. This could be the key piece in his long game against the Military Committee and Babel.
Ah, but by next year the civil war's outcome would be decided anyway. When that happened, Kazdel would become a wasteland no one wanted.
Meaning… his only competition would be himself.
To win the hearts of the Sarkaz, there was only one way—to earn their trust.
Even if he became an "Abnormal Fallen Angel" in the eyes of the Sankta, that didn't matter. Without sincerity, he could never lead the Sarkaz.
If one has the will, anyone can become a king.
To be king does not require noble blood or divine blessing—only resolve and method.
Then, Ines's voice echoed softly from his shadow:
"Pioneer, there's an envoy requesting an audience with you."
Ines's Originium Arts allowed her to communicate through shadows. Over time, Felix had begun to feel like his shadow housed a mischievous Gengar—though unlike the Pokémon, Ines couldn't store his items or gear.
He began walking toward the meeting chamber. At this point, he hoped the envoy was from Babel. Their recent small-scale conflict had been neatly resolved with the Doctor's help, and Felix only wanted to hear good news now—not that some troublesome neighbor had come to stir up problems.
"Who's the envoy from? Don't tell me it's someone from the Military Committee?"
"No," Ines replied. "It's a Sankta."
Felix immediately turned and bolted in the opposite direction.
"…I'm joking. It's a lich."
"You… made a joke?" Felix stopped mid-step, visibly surprised.
"I asked Loughshinny for advice," Ines replied matter-of-factly. "She said humor helps relieve stress. If you don't like it, I won't do it again."
Felix exhaled, half amused, half exasperated. For a moment, her joke had genuinely startled him—but the shock had also cleared his mind. What surprised him even more was seeing the normally rigid, no-nonsense Ines attempt humor.
He wasn't usually the type to lead through pressure. Yet these chaotic times had forced him into a more serious demeanor, constantly rushing from one crisis to another. Deep down, he still preferred solving problems with levity, with a bit of playfulness.
"It's fine," he said, shaking his head. "Anyway—this lich. Is it what I think it is?"
He paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "A race of the dead, resurrected to walk the land again? Do we have… a Lich King?"
"…No," Ines replied dryly.
She pressed a hand to her forehead. "Liches are a branch of the Sarkaz race—one of the royal courts, actually. I don't know much beyond that. You might ask Hoederer for details."
Felix's impression of liches came mostly from World of Warcraft. In his mind, they were terrifying undead creatures wearing steel helms, their eyes glowing icy blue—a vision of pure, cold power. Cool, in every sense of the word.
Reality… did not meet expectations.
Before him stood a young woman—with a visible hole in her chest, through which a cord of energy or fabric was threaded like a makeshift bandage.
"Hello," Felix greeted politely. "I'm the Pioneer. And you are?"
"Ermengarde, envoy of the Liches," she replied.
"Miss Ermengarde, what brings you here today?"
"Don't call me Miss," she huffed. "I'm not that old."
Her outfit was, to say the least, peculiar—enough to make Felix blink a few times. She certainly didn't look like an ordinary Sarkaz. In fact, he'd received several player reports recently about mysterious women appearing around the Frontier District—always in pairs, sometimes mother and daughter, sometimes mother and son. Whenever anyone tried to approach them for identification, they vanished into thin air.
If not for the yellow nameplate floating above their heads, the players might have thought they were dealing with digital ghosts haunting the game world.
However, it was clear that Lady Ermengarde hadn't inherited the finer qualities of the Sarkaz people. Compared to Ulšulah, she was… considerably lacking in certain areas.
Ermengarde, of course, was unaware of the rather impolite thoughts running through Felix's mind. As he studied her carefully, she too was quietly observing him.
"Before meeting you, I've never had any dealings with liches," Felix began evenly. "And within Kazdel's borders, I've never encountered a lich before either. So tell me, as a messenger of your kind—what message have you come to deliver?"
"No," Ermengarde replied calmly, her tone smooth as silk. "In truth, we've met before—though you, Pioneer, likely didn't notice."
Felix raised an eyebrow.
"In the Tomorrow's Development Research Institute," she continued, "a certain Dr. Bach from Leithania once spent a considerable amount of time among my people. He was… also the master of our clan leader."
Felix nodded slightly. "So, is there a problem with this Dr. Bach?"
He still remembered the old scholar—brilliant, stubborn, and ever so absorbed in his research. Felix had offered him the resources to freely pursue his studies and even allowed him to bring along his students. A classic academic through and through.
"We maintained correspondence and collaborated with Dr. Bach for quite some time," Ermengarde explained softly. "That was until he left Leithania to join the Tomorrow's Development's project."
"The liches have always pursued knowledge," she continued, her voice calm and measured. "And only knowledge. We've long lived in Leithania, keeping to ourselves and avoiding worldly conflict."
"If you've chosen isolation," Felix said, narrowing his eyes slightly, "then why seek me out?"
"Because of our cooperation with Dr. Bach. We wish to continue that partnership," Ermengarde said. "We'd like to send several liches to work at the Tomorrow's Development Institute. The High Tower of Leithania no longer satisfy all among us."
She smiled faintly. "In exchange, you would gain access to a portion of our accumulated knowledge. I'd say that's a profitable trade."
Felix chuckled quietly. "Indeed, quite profitable. As a Sarkaz lich yourself, I only learned of your kind today. Perhaps you can enlighten me further?"
Ermengarde nodded, adjusting the wide brim of her witch's hat. "Ask away."
"Tell me—does your kind have no interest in the future of the Sarkaz race? Forgive my bluntness, but during the civil war, I never once came across any intelligence mentioning your people."
"As I said," she replied evenly, "we liches care only for knowledge. We reside permanently in Leithania and do not involve ourselves in conflict."
"Hmm... alright, I can provide the funding and resources you need," Felix said softly. "The department under Tomorrow's Development spares no expense. I'd like this partnership to be more than a one-time arrangement. In the future, I hope both sides will benefit even more."
"I'll deliver your words to the clan," Ermengarde said, smiling as she idly toyed with the thread hanging from her chest. "Anything else?"
"Let's draft a contract."
"Oh my, so decisive."
Ermengarde couldn't help but comment as Felix immediately began writing the terms of the agreement. Ten minutes later, she reviewed the document carefully, found no issues, and tucked it neatly into her robes.
"I'll bring it to the clan leader."
"Since it seems we'll be partners soon," Felix said, "there's an artifact I'd like you to take a look at."
"An artifact?"
Felix produced a storage cube. The moment Ermengarde saw it, her eyes lit up with intrigue, a curious smile spreading across her face.
"Where did you find this?"
"You recognize it?" Felix asked. "I know it's a relic of the previous civilization, but I've yet to find a way to open it."
"Ah, the previous civilization…" Ermengarde mused. "To think someone so young already knows so much."
After a brief pause, she added, "I can open it—but I'll need specific instruments to access the contents within."
"You mean your people have knowledge of the previous civilization?"
For the first time, Ermengarde gave Felix a genuine, almost playful smile.
"Yes, we do. Would you like to know more?"
Felix's lips curved slightly. "Then tell me—what's the price?"