After explaining to the totem that what he must have felt wasn’t a call from me but that I’ve promoted him to vassal sergeant, and after ordering him not to initiate this mental communication unless it’s important, I leave my room and use the stones to travel to Clearhaven.

  The moment I cross the portal and appear in the square, Ronan’s words about the orcs attacking the village take on a very concrete meaning. Houses with destroyed walls, blackened stone, burned wood, corpses still being removed from the streets, and a strong military presence.

  “Identify yourself,” one of them tells me, a soldier stationed in the square.

  “Bianca L’Crom. I’m a student at the royal academy. I have permission to come here to train.”

  “Ah, yes. The friend of the necromancer who helped save the village.”

  One of his companions, a few steps away, must overhear the conversation, because he immediately approaches and greets me with a respectful bow.

  “Miss L’Crom, betrothed to His Highness Prince Vincent, welcome.”

  The other soldier pales and hurries to apologize. It seems the people here know Ronan and me but don’t associate me with the prince. That explains the first soldier’s mistake.

  “It’s fine,” I tell him.

  The truth is, I still have to get used to being part of the royal family. My admiration for Vincent grows—he’s been dealing with this his whole life, and it hasn’t gone to his head.

  “Are you helping with reconstruction?”

  “Yes. We’re also going to burn the orc corpses.”

  Uh. If Ronan wants to raise one to interrogate it, I don’t know if he’ll be able to if they’ve burned it.

  Let’s see. I’m not very clear on what happened here. As far as I know, Ronan was sleeping when they alerted him to the attack. He came with Vincent and some undead and helped massacre the enemy. Since they were orcs, he assumed they came from the mountain pass and went there to end the threat.

  I don’t know if it’s normal for him not to have made sure first by raising one of the enemy corpses. Maybe seeing people—villagers—he knew dead, something I know he hasn’t experienced before, made him lose some of his usual clarity. Or maybe something happened in the battle that I don’t know about.

  In any case, if I ask them to leave one unburned, won’t I be making public what he can do with souls?

  I don’t even know if it’s a secret—just that Duskmere was blown away when he found out.

  Okay. I’ve got it:

  “Can you leave a couple unburned? Ronan might find them useful to practice his necromancy.”

  There. That doesn’t imply he can bind their souls to their bodies and interrogate them.

  “Of course, miss.”

  He doesn’t even flinch. Must be a veteran soldier, used to dealing with both death and undead—even if only in dungeons.

  “My betrothed is still here; he stayed training in the forest with Ronan. I’m going to meet up with them.”

  “Do you need a soldier to accompany you?”

  “No, thank you very much. You’re much more useful here than with me. Besides, I’m used to hunting in the forest. Boars and wolves aren’t a problem for me.”

  “I’d expect nothing less from our prince’s betrothed,” he answers with a mix of respect and admiration.

  And I can understand it. You need a certain level, a certain mastery with a weapon or spells, to defend yourself if several wolves attack you at once. For any commoner, it would be unthinkable. For a royal academy student, doable if you’re third year—highly unlikely if you’re first year.

  I say goodbye to them and head toward the village exit. Halfway there, a boy approaches me, a dog trotting close behind him.

  “You’re Ronan’s friend, right?”

  “Uh... yes.”

  “I wanted to thank you for bringing Ronan to the village. He gave me Mike, and Mike saved me, my mom, and my friends.”

  Wait... what?

  He throws his arms around the dog’s neck, hugging him. Then I notice his eyes—they’re glassy, lacking the natural spark of life. He’s a zombie.

  Ronan gave one of his friends to a child?

  Well, I don’t know why I’m surprised. I’ve already seen him play with the children, and he gave a scorpion to that brute, Darius.

  Seeing such a tender image before me, a warmth floods my heart, which had hardened when I stepped into the village and understood what the survivors must be suffering from their losses.

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  “What’s your name?” I ask him.

  “Aldo.”

  “Aldo, take good care of Mike. He seems like a good dog.”

  “He is. He’ll protect us again if we’re attacked.”

  “Well, all these soldiers are going to protect you too.”

  “They couldn’t defend us—it was Mike,” he pouts.

  “Of course. Don’t worry. Knowing my friend Ronan, he’s not going to let you get attacked again. I’m sure he’s posted some of his bird friends—or little mice or squirrels—nearby to alert him if any other orcs try to approach.”

  The boy nods, very serious. The dog too.

  “Ronan is awesome.”

  I can’t help but smile. He says it completely convinced—it’s wonderful that someone other than Mary, and our circle of friends—can see him as he is.

  I say goodbye to the boy by ruffling his hair and leave the village.

  Outside, I see the corpses. There are two piles: the orcs to burn and the villagers they’re burying.

  I focus on good things, like that boy Ronan saved, to keep rage from invading me.

  These people aren’t from Convergence, they’re subjects of Vincent’s parents. However, they’re the human population closest to the goblin cave, and somehow, I almost consider them mine.

  Dangerous.

  If they were given the option to swear vassalage to me, I’d be committing treason. To avoid it, I’d need the crown to give me these lands. And I know one way to do it: the games.

  There, if you win, you can get more lands for your house—or maybe even your own title.

  Mary, for example, if she participates and wins, they’d probably make her a noble.

  I walk to the point on the road where a bone mount usually waits for me. This time it’s not a stag but one of the small bears. I climb on, and we head to the cave.

  Once there, I notice most of the goblins are missing; Ronan must have taken them. One of the females greets me, with a small child clinging to her skirts. He’s no longer a baby. From the way he’s trying to learn to walk while holding onto his mother, I’d think he’s about a year old if it weren’t for the fact that a few days ago he was a nursing infant. Yes, I was right to forbid them from approaching the females again until further notice. I just don’t think I can maintain it much longer if I don’t want a revolution.

  Hmmm, vassalage oath... I don’t think they could.

  Well, whatever; I don’t intend for them to be miserable either, just to stop them from having litters of goblins every few months and multiplying the population to levels impossible to maintain anonymously.

  “Has Ronan returned?” I ask the goblin after greeting her.

  By the way, since I entered, I notice it smells bad. I mean, it’s not like a cave full of goblins ever smelled like roses, but there’s a new scent—one that stinks.

  What have they done?

  “No, leader. Do you want to see the totem?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Make yourself comfortable.” She points to some furs on the ground. “I’ll let him know. Do you want something to eat?”

  The truth is, now that she mentions it, I notice my stomach protesting. Since I left my parents’ county, I haven’t eaten anything.

  “Yes, thank you very much.”

  Soon, both the totem and a different female goblin arrive carrying a plate of meat stew. Too bad they don’t have bread, we’d need to plant wheat...

  The totem bows to me. I can see he has a grin from ear to ear.

  “Welcome, Great Sage. I wanted to thank you for your trust in me and the sergeant title you’ve given me.”

  “Hello, totem. It was only natural. Now that the settlement allows me to have two leaders under my command, you were the one from Splintered Fang. Since I appointed Ronan, I’d been planning to promote you as soon as I had the opportunity. Tell me, do you know you can have up to ten soldiers under your direct command and give them mental orders?”

  “Yes. I felt it when passing near other goblins. I’ve appointed Grumpa, and I’m waiting for the warriors to return to appoint a few more.”

  Of course, I understand. The non-combatants must be here, mostly women caring for the young... I mean, little kids.

  In any case, I know who Grumpa is: she’s Bumpa’s mother, the young female goblin who’s brought me food a few times.

  “Give me a second,” I tell the totem, and check the system interface.

  Ronan Velbrun, Vassal Sergeant level 10, Soul Weaver.

  Galp, Vassal Soldier level 8, Battle Warden.

  Bramp, Vassal Soldier level 7, Spearman.

  Lolp, Vassal Soldier level 7, Hunter.

  Scamp, Vassal Soldier level 7, Spearman.

  Petunia, Vassal Soldier level 4.

  Totem, Vassal Sergeant, level 9, Shaman.

  Grumpa, Vassal Soldier, level 3, cook.

  Obtainable influence points: 1 for each soldier kill. Up to 4 for sergeant leadership.

  Right, as I suspected, it doesn’t say warrior, but cook.

  And there are several things here. Is his name really Totem? Or is it that by taking the position of totem—which, from what they told me, is their spiritual leader—even the system changes his name?

  Another thing: They haven’t given me influence points for conquering that orc settlement. I navigate through the interface looking for the reason:

  The actions of officers and soldiers under your command can earn you Influence Points.

  It’s the same as when I made the totem or Ronan sergeant: His actions under your command can earn you Influence Points.

  The only thing I can think of is that since Ronan didn’t tell me anything—neither about saving Clearhaven nor about the orc settlement—it’s not considered that I ordered it (which I didn’t) and so they didn’t give me points.

  Well, what a disappointment. Since Ronan is causing trouble, I’d expect the system to at least give me something in return.

  And lastly, about Grumpa. She’s not one of the younger female goblins, and she’s a cook. Because of the small children, quite a few females stayed instead of going to fight. I’m sure many of them know how to fight with a spear, and if the totem had chosen them, it would be reflected in their profession.

  I just don’t understand. Did he really choose the cook? I stare at him with suspicion.

  “Grumpa gives birth to robust goblins and cooks well,” is his response.

  My face must be like an open book, because he’s guessed what I was thinking.

  Well then, one of his ten soldiers is a cook who I doubt contributes much in battle. He probably chose her because she’s his favorite female and he can give her orders. Ridiculous—he can ask her for food without needing to bond with her.

  Oh my gosh! I realize the real reason and turn completely red.

  Is the totem really going to abuse his power like this? Or is she more like his favorite recurring partner and it’s some kind of game she’s agreed to?

  (And is Bumpa the totem’s daughter?)

  No, I’m not getting into this.

  I shake my head.

  They’re not human, not my customs. Besides, for now he can’t do anything because my prohibition is active. If at some point I see the cook isn’t happy, then I’ll intervene.

  My face must still give me away, because the totem adds:

  “Leader, I don’t know what you’re thinking. Grumpa is very good with knives, even if she doesn’t usually fight.”

  Oh, damn… how embarrassing.

  “Fine,” I reply curtly. “Try to also choose warriors. The point is for you to be able to command them remotely in battle.”

  “Of course, leader Bianca. That’s why I’m waiting for them to return.”

  Anyway, I dip my spoon into the stew and start eating before it gets cold. Then, to make use of the time until Ronan and Vincent arrive, I go to the town hall pedestal.