The dungeon was a pit of misery. Chains clinked against damp stone, and the air stank of blood, sweat, and rot. The only light came from a single torch, its flame sputtering in the stale air.Girls huddled in the darkness, their wrists torn raw by iron cuffs. Purple bruises bloomed across their skin, their eyes hollow with despair. The silence was broken only by the sound of quiet sobs and the occasional rattle of chains.The door groaned open.A large, ugly man stepped in, shoulders filling the doorway. His face was twisted with scars, his teeth rotting, his grin cruel. He dragged one girl forward by her hair, her body so frail it barely resisted. She cried out, her voice high and thin, echoing across the chamber.The brute laughed as he slammed her against the wall, the chains biting into her skin. His fists rose and fell like hammers. Her screams filled the dungeon, bouncing against the stone until they sounded like the cries of a hundred souls."Louder," he spat, smashing her face again and abusing her. "Cry louder!" said while violating her body and soul 'an animal fitting word to describe' kicking on stomach and face from different position.Her voice broke. Her cries turned hoarse, then into whimpers, three girl ties in the same cell hugging each other, watching such monstrosity.A knock at the door. Another man entered, carrying a slime sealed in a glass container. His tone was businesslike, as though the girl's agony was nothing."An important man wants to see you."The brute snarled but followed, leaving the room in suffocating silence.For an hour, the only sound was the drip of water and the ragged breathing of the chained girls. Then one of them around whispered, trembling:"...Sister?"They crawled closer, chains scraping the floor, and saw her in blood. Her small body hung limp in the manacles, bloodied, naked, broken bones, eyes popped out through pain. The girl was barely 13 or 14.She no longer breathed.The three screamed, their cries of grief tearing through the dungeon. Their sobs echoed like prayers no god would answer.A soldier eventually entered, wrinkling his nose at the stench. He glanced at the corpse and sneered."Another meat bag dead. We'll clean her before she rots and stinks."That was the breaking point.The three survivors lunged, wild with despair and fury. Chains rattled as they threw themselves at him, nails tearing, teeth biting, their desperation stronger than his armor. He shouted in shock, tried to draw his blade, but their madness was faster. They brought him down, smashing his head against the stones until his body twitched no more.With his keys, they freed themselves. Bleeding, trembling, but alive, they pushed the door open. For the first time, the dungeon door did not close behind them—it opened to freedom. They ran.
Far away, beneath the cliffs, I pressed my hand into the chalky soil. White veins streaked the earth, brittle and rough. I crushed some between my fingers and smiled. Nitrates.Exactly what I needed.Behind me, Oswin approached, carrying parchments stacked high. He bowed slightly, then handed me the stock report. "My lord… with these resources, what do you plan to build?"Before I could answer, Garreth arrived with a clerk and several knights. Their faces were dark, eyes sharp with doubt. I gave orders but revealed little; to them, I was a commander hiding secrets, perhaps wasting what little they had.Finally, Garreth broke the silence. "My lord… what do you intend for this town?"I stood, brushing soil from my hands, and replied:"Twenty stone houses. They will be shelters in winter… and a barrier against demon beasts."The room went silent. Some frowned. Others whispered."Stone houses?" one muttered. "We need walls, not cottages. How can this protect us?"I raised my hand. "Walls require what we don't yet have—time, manpower, stone, lime, mortar. But these houses, reinforced, will serve as both fortifications and traps. We survive with strategy, not brute strength. Until the time comes, follow my orders."They still doubted me. But beneath the fear, I saw it—hope. A faint spark, but there.That night, I met Natalia. The moonlight made her eyes glow as she whispered:"My power… it has grown. Stronger. My range, my limit… and now, I can see plants in their essence. Their veins, their lifeblood, every detail."Her words made me pause. Strength meant survival—but also danger. Natalia no longer thought before speaking; her words flowed as if her guard had vanished."Show me," I said quietly.She closed her eyes, hands trembling faintly, then the ground stirred. A garden unfolded — wild blossoms in colors I had never seen, their fragrance sweet and alien. She smiled softly."These grow in the forests I wandered," she whispered."Destroy it."Her face froze, shock flashing in her eyes. For a moment I thought she would resist — but she didn't. She lowered her hands, and the flowers withered one by one, the soil cracking as their life drained away. When it was done, silence lingered, and she looked at me with something new: trust, submission… dependence.I spoke with her for an hour after, easing her heart with simple talk — meals, routines, small comforts. Her laughter was hesitant, but it returned. Then I shifted."Now, attack."She obeyed, striking with roots and vines, shaping her gift with precision. Each attempt grew stronger, her control sharper. She was learning fast.From afar, Garreth's eyes glimmered in the darkness, suspicion gnawing as he watched me mold her power to my will.