The echoes of yesterday’s discussions lingered in Ravenna’s mind as she awoke. The familiar heat of the desert sun was already beginning to seep into the stone walls of the castle. Stretching languidly, she muttered to herself, “Of course, there’s a logical reason for centralization. The narcissistic displays and grandiose declarations? Those were just to farm points.” A sly smirk played on her lips as she clapped her hands, summoning the maids.

  Alice arrived promptly with the other attendants, and together, they helped Ravenna prepare for the day. Her bath was infused with cooling herbs, a small luxury to stave off the relentless heat. Once bathed, she was dressed in her usual attire—a flowing dress of light silk designed to reveal enough to keep her cool while maintaining an air of regal elegance. The fabric shimmered faintly in the sunlight, its hues reminiscent of molten gold and the deep purple of the imperial flag.

  Ravenna strode into the dining hall with the commanding presence she was known for. Her beauty was both captivating and dangerous, like a sharp blade cloaked in red. The servant’s movements grew noticeably more cautious as they placed her breakfast before her. A plate of golden-brown fried potatoes, delicately seasoned with salt and a touch of pepper, sat waiting. The careful arrangement of the dish spoke of the care taken to impress her.

  Her gaze lingered on the plate as she picked up her fork and knife. “Hmm, this looks promising,” she remarked, her voice calm but laced with expectation. These weren’t just ordinary potatoes—they represented the first successful harvest from the seabed soil farms established in Jola. The farms, located on the eastern side of the city within the ruins of the old noble’s estate, were kept indoors to protect the crops from the harsh desert sun. Other experimental farms, such as those near the blacksmith workshop, had also yielded results. This dish was a milestone for the struggling city.

  Ravenna sliced into the crisp outer layer, revealing a soft, golden interior. She took a small bite, her expression betraying no emotion as she chewed. The flavors melded perfectly: a balance of crispness and softness, simplicity elevated by expert execution.

  “These are excellent,” she declared, her tone carrying a rare note of approval. She set her utensils down momentarily and addressed Alice. “Incorporate these potatoes into the food relief program. We’ll gradually expand the crop production to ensure a steady supply. If everything goes as planned, we can phase out the relief program entirely within two months.”

  Alice nodded quickly, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Understood, Your Highness. I’ll ensure the orders are relayed immediately.”

  With a light clap of her hands, Ravenna signaled for the next dish. This time, it was a small bowl containing bread and chicken breast fried alongside vibrant, sautéed vegetables. She took a measured bite, savoring the flavors while her mind drifted to more pressing matters.

  Ravenna activated her Reputation System, the glowing interface appearing before her eyes.

  [Reputation System v0.1]

  User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim

  Reputation Level: 60 (6210/8200)

  Current Reputation Points: 20,432

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  Titles: Raven of Sun Palace, Unruly Princess

  {View Reputation Log} {Spend Reputation Points}

  A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she scanned the numbers. “Quite the haul,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the faint clatter of her utensils. The new administrative and economic policies she had introduced were yielding more than just strategic benefits, they were a treasure trove of reputation points. Every conversation, every debate sparked by her plans, fed into her growing reserves of influence.

  “This is going better than expected,” she thought, taking another bite of her meal. The satisfaction of her success mingled with the deeper gratification of progress. While the city still teetered on the edge of collapse, each step forward brought them closer to stability.

  Morgen Dukedom, Kingdom of Estra, Vassal Kingdom to Ancrona Empire, Far South from mainland Ancorna bordering Conley Empire.

  Far to the south of the Ancrona Empire lay the Morgen Dukedom, a rugged territory in the Kingdom of Estra, one of four vassal kingdoms forming the Ancrona’s Council of Vassal States at the South of Mainland Ancrona. Estra, nestled within towering mountain ranges, served as a natural bulwark against the Conley Empire, a southern rival with whom Ancrona had shared a tense yet bloodless rivalry for over a century. The sheer, inhospitable terrain of the Estra Mountains ensured that direct military incursions were as impractical as they were dangerous, effectively preserving peace between the two empires.

  Morgen Dukedom, perched at the southernmost tip of Estra, bordered the Conley vassal state of Axisum Kingdom. This strategic position afforded Morgen significant political influence, but it also bore the brunt of southern winds and storms. Yet even by Estra’s frosty standards, the unrelenting cold of this summer was unnatural, an ominous blizzard howled through the mountains, its icy breath defying the season.

  Disturbed by reports of the unnatural weather and strange howls emanating from a secluded region in the mountains, Duke Kevin Morgen mobilized a small army of knights to investigate. Mounted on his black steed, Kevin led his men through the biting winds, his crimson cloak snapping against the icy gusts. The snow seemed to bite at their exposed skin, its sharp chill cutting deeper with each step forward.

  “My Lord!” the knight captain shouted over the howling wind, his voice strained with concern. “We cannot press on any further! The advance scout unit is most certainly lost! If we continue, we will meet the same fate!”

  Kevin reined in his horse, turning sharply to glare at the captain. His blue eyes burned with determination, unyielding against the cold. “Are you listening to yourself?” he bellowed. “Your comrades may still be alive, and you would abandon them to save your own skin? Whether you follow me or not, I will uncover the source of this blizzard!”

  Chastened by their lord’s conviction, the knights exchanged uneasy glances but ultimately pressed on, their loyalty compelling them forward despite the gnawing fear in their hearts. The path ahead grew narrower and more treacherous, the snow deepening until their horses struggled to find footing.

  Hours seemed to stretch into an eternity as the wind screamed through the peaks, carrying with it a bone-chilling howl that seemed almost alive. Suddenly, a faint light flickered ahead, bobbing in the swirling storm like a ghostly beacon.

  Kevin raised his arm to signal a halt. “Men, stay sharp!” he ordered, his voice cutting through the wind. “Mages to the front! This could be a trick by the Conley Empire!”

  The knights and mages scrambled into formation, the latter readying spells to defend against any ambush. As the light drew closer, its source became clearer—a lone figure stumbled toward them, clad in the armor of a Morgen knight. His armor was smeared with blood, his face pale and etched with terror.

  “Hold!” Kevin shouted, his horse stamping impatiently as he waited for the man to approach.

  The knight staggered forward, clutching a torch that flickered desperately against the blizzard’s onslaught. His eyes were wide with fear, his voice raw as he screamed, “Turn back! Turn back! It’s a dungeon! An eight-floor dungeon!”