The recognition of citizenship in Eterna had become a pressing matter. The challengers who ventured into the labyrinth, the traveling merchants who moved goods across borders—none of them were citizens. They benefited from our systems, yet carried no loyalty to our banner. That imbalance couldn't last forever.
Those who sought to share in Eterna's blessings would need to swear allegiance. Citizenship wasn't a right to be given freely—it was a pact of loyalty and contribution. If they wished to enjoy Eterna's protection, then they had to stand beneath its banner and serve its cause.
At this stage, Eterna was still in its growth phase, developing steadily under my watch. We welcomed immigrants for now, but I knew that would eventually change. Once the nation matured, we would have to grow selective—stronger, more cautious.
A nation, at its essence, is a great mutual pact—a covenant among people who cannot live alone. They unite to build strength, to protect, and to thrive. But parasites? Those who only take and never give—they have no place in Eterna. And those who come without the will to stay? They are but shadows passing through, and I will not let their indecision infect the heart of my nation.
"Citizenship must mean something," I said aloud to those gathered. "It's not a mere formality—it's a declaration of unity. Those who claim to be citizens must contribute to Eterna's strength. And in return, they shall receive protection, honor, and rights under my rule. But guests…" My tone darkened slightly. "Guests will be treated as guests. They will not enjoy what my people have earned."
The council nodded. Myourmiles took notes quietly while Veldora leaned forward, his arms crossed with rare seriousness.
"I'll need to discuss this matter with Rigurd soon," I muttered to myself. "We must define the lines clearly. Loyalty cannot remain an abstract notion."
For a moment, silence reigned. Then Masayuki's voice broke the air.
"Uh… Atem-sama, if I may."
I turned to him, my golden eyes narrowing slightly. "Speak."
He hesitated for a heartbeat before continuing, "If what you're saying about the new drop system is true… then couldn't we take it a step further? Maybe… mix in unidentified potions, or gear with unknown effects? It'd make things unpredictable—players, I mean, challengers—won't know what's valuable unless they appraise it first."
I paused. The idea had merit.
"So," I said, leaning back slightly, "you want to make it so that no one can tell an item's true nature until they appraise it at the counter?"
Masayuki's eyes lit up. "Exactly! It adds mystery—and tension. Imagine finding a shiny sword, but not knowing if it's cursed or legendary until you check."
Ramiris gasped. "Oooh, that sounds fun! You mean some potions could be poison?!"
Masayuki nodded quickly. "Right! We could mix a few in. Not too many, but enough to make people cautious. It'll remind them to always appraise items."
I smiled faintly, amused by their enthusiasm. "So, in essence… you want to turn the labyrinth into a game of wits. Tempt them with risk and reward."
"That's it!" Masayuki exclaimed, thumping his fist against his palm.
"Hmm," I mused aloud, "then cursed weapons could serve a similar purpose. They may seem worthless at first—until properly appraised. Their true nature revealed only to the wise."
Veldora's eyes gleamed with mischief. "GAHAHAHA! I can already imagine it! The challengers' faces when they realize their 'treasure' drains their magic instead of boosting it!"
Ramiris twirled in the air. "If you want the items to hide their true power, I can use my illusion magic to cloak them!"
I chuckled softly. "Good. Then we'll make it so that even junk has a purpose. Illusion magic, cursed enchantments, unidentified effects—let's give them a reason to question everything they pick up."
Myourmiles raised his hand slightly, his expression thoughtful. "If that's the case, then people will have to carry more unidentified items back to town. Their inventory will fill quickly, forcing them to use the 'Return Whistle.'"
"Which means," I finished for him, "more sales. A steady loop of challenge, return, and preparation."
He smirked. "Exactly. Profitable for both sides."
Veldora let out a thunderous laugh, his aura rippling through the chamber. "GAHAHAHA! Excellent! They'll be trapped between greed and curiosity. The labyrinth will feast on their ambition!"
Masayuki grinned, clearly enjoying the direction this was going. "It'll make every expedition feel different. And the thrill of appraising the loot afterward… it's like a game update."
"A patch update," I repeated slowly, the term rolling off my tongue with a faint smile. "I like that."
Ramiris nodded enthusiastically, pretending to understand. "Yeah! Patch update! Totally got it!"
I turned to her, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Do you, though?"
Her wings fluttered nervously. "O-Of course! Totally! You know me—I'm a genius!"
I sighed and shook my head. "You're a genius at causing chaos, perhaps."
Veldora burst out laughing again, and Myourmiles's grin widened. For a brief moment, the room was filled with lively energy—an unusual harmony of seriousness and playfulness.
But beneath the laughter, I sensed something deeper. This wasn't just a game or an experiment anymore. Each decision we made was shaping the foundation of Eterna's destiny. Every trap, every rule, every opportunity—we were forging a living system of challenge and reward.
As the laughter faded, I looked around at them all—Ramiris, Veldora, Masayuki, Myourmiles—and gave a small, commanding nod.
"Then it's decided," I said. "The labyrinth will evolve once more. Let it test not only strength but wisdom, patience, and judgment. Those who dare enter must learn that power without understanding leads only to ruin."
We all exchanged knowing glances. In that moment, an unspoken agreement passed between us—a pact of creation and challenge.
And as we looked toward the labyrinth's direction, the air itself seemed to hum with anticipation.
The evening veil descended over Eterna, painting the city in the calm glow of twilight. Another day of work awaited—real work, not leisure. Though I had spent the daylight hours walking the streets, inspecting every corner of the city, it wasn't for pleasure. A ruler who idled was unworthy of command. Every step I took had purpose—to observe, to listen, to understand the rhythm of my people's lives.
By nightfall, I was back in my office, surrounded by the stillness of discipline and the faint scent of parchment. Reports, plans, projections—everything passed through my hands before becoming law. Rigurd handled most of the administrative weight, but the final decisions rested solely on me. I had rooms prepared in the duty hall specifically for such tasks; after all, a kingdom like Eterna required vigilance even in the quietest hours.
"Atem-sama, here are the reports submitted by Myourmiles-dono," Shion announced, stepping forward with a bundle of parchment neatly bound. Her movements were crisp—disciplined, practiced.
Her improvement didn't go unnoticed. The once hot-headed warrior now carried herself like a true secretary. She bowed slightly, extending the documents with both hands, and I accepted them with a nod of approval.
"You've done well, Shion. Your dedication honors Eterna," I said, my tone calm but edged with authority.
A flicker of pride crossed her face. "Thank you, Atem-sama. I will continue to serve you with everything I have."
I allowed myself a faint smile before turning my attention to the documents. The handwriting was Myourmiles'—organized, efficient. He'd taken yesterday's meeting and transformed it into a clear, executable plan with remarkable speed.
"Everything seems to be progressing as intended," I murmured, scanning through the neatly structured notes.
"Indeed, Atem-sama," Diablo responded, standing beside me. His golden eyes gleamed with quiet admiration. "The sales across Eterna's taverns have risen by ten percent. The lower-ranked challengers are earning well. The flow of coin strengthens both our citizens and our markets. Just as you foresaw."
I leaned back slightly, crossing my arms. "It's not foresight, Diablo. It's design. If people have purpose, they thrive. If they thrive, the nation grows."
He nodded deeply. "And yet, Atem-sama, even the simplest of your designs carry wisdom beyond comprehension."
I gave a short, amused breath. His loyalty bordered on worship, but his sincerity was absolute. Still, even I—King of Eterna, Pharaoh of Rebirth—was not above appreciating praise when it was well-earned.
Diablo moved with graceful precision, pouring a cup of black tea and setting it before me. The rich aroma filled the room. I took a slow sip—then paused.
"Hmm... this isn't the usual blend," I noted, lowering the cup slightly. "Did you change the tea?"
Diablo's composure did not falter. "Is it not to your liking, Atem-sama? I procured a new blend from the merchants returning from the southern border. They spoke of its strength."
"Strength, yes," I replied thoughtfully, tasting again. "It has a bold bitterness… sharper than the last. But it's not bad. Quite the opposite—it carries a depth that commands respect."
Before I could finish, Shion suddenly panicked. "I-I shall replace it immediately, Atem-sama! Please wait just a moment!"
Her flustered tone made me raise an eyebrow. "There's no need, Shion."
I set the cup down gently. "It's perfectly fine as it is. Learn to recognize refinement in difference. The bitterness you sense is not a flaw—it's character."
She blinked, calming down at once. "Y-Yes, Atem-sama. I understand."
I gave a faint nod, leaning back as the quiet hum of the office returned. The candlelight danced over the surface of the tea, and for a fleeting moment, I caught my reflection in it—a reminder of the burden I carried as ruler of Eterna. Every word, every decision, every subtle shift in policy rippled outward like the expanding rings of fate.
"Diablo," I said after a moment of silence, "make sure the flow of trade from the southern merchants continues. Their resources could benefit the lower ranks—and the city's growth depends on their success."
"At once, Atem-sama," he replied, bowing.
As I turned back to the reports, the flame of the candle flickered against the polished black ring I wore—a silent reminder of the ancient power within me. Solarys, the Sovereign of Wisdom, stirred faintly in my consciousness, her voice cool and clear.
"You handle them well, my king. Even in mundane matters, your command shapes the fate of nations."
I smirked faintly. "Mundane or not, every piece matters on the board."
The night continued—papers shifting, quills scratching, voices low but steady. Beyond the window, the city of Eterna glowed beneath the moonlight—alive, orderly, and strong.
This was my kingdom. My creation. My responsibility.
And as long as I drew breath, no shadow would ever cast itself upon it again.