Still overwhelming odds.

Ethan stood slowly, his mind racing through tactical possibilities. Every piece of information painted a darker picture of their situation.

We can’t run. We can’t hide. We can’t fight conventionally.

His subjects watched him with desperate hope, trusting their Lord to find solutions where none seemed to exist.

Their faith pressed down on his shoulders like a physical burden, but also fueled his determination.

Thirty-six hours. Not much time, but it’ll have to be enough.

Ethan turned sharply toward Jacoub, his voice carrying urgent authority.

“Jacoub! Drop everything else. I need those residential buildings constructed immediately.”

The architect blinked in surprise, his mind still processing the interrogation’s revelations.

“My Lord? The construction timeline requires—”

“Hours, not days,” Ethan cut him off. “I don’t care if you have to work through the night. Use every available worker. Maximum priority.”

Territory upgrades might provide defensive capabilities we desperately need.

Jacoub’s expression shifted to understanding as the tactical implications became clear.

“The territory upgrade. You’re hoping for enhanced defenses.”

“Exactly. We don’t have seven days of protection anymore. We have thirty-six hours before a powerful force marches on us.”

Every upgrade could mean the difference between survival and annihilation.

The architect nodded grimly, already mentally reorganizing construction priorities. “I’ll need all available workers, plus anyone who can lift materials.”

“You have them,” Ethan confirmed. “Jack, assign your warriors to construction duty. Marcus, your archers too.”

Everyone contributes or everyone dies.

Jack stepped forward immediately. “Yes, my Lord. What about the spawn point operations?”

“Don’t worry about it, I will deal with it. We need bodies for construction more than resource gathering right now.”

Resources won’t matter if we’re all dead.

Elena raised her hand tentatively. “My Lord, should we continue monitoring the jungle perimeter?”

“Not now, there is no need to continue watching. Just focus on getting the buildings ready.”

Ethan turned back toward Vincent, who lay bleeding in the sand but still conscious despite his injuries. Gold-rank constitution kept him alive even with massive trauma, a resilience that would prove useful.

Time to ensure our prisoner doesn’t become a problem.

Vincent’s eyes tracked Ethan’s movement with growing terror as he reached into his storage ring.

The soft materialization sound of the spatial storage made several subjects step back reflexively.

A sword appeared in Ethan’s grip—not his weapon, but he had gotten it from the city lord, ezekiel as a gift. Its steel caught the evening light with cold promise.

Can’t have him escaping to warn his allies.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Vincent stammered, his voice thick with pain and rising panic. “You said you’d let me go!”

Ethan’s expression remained neutral as he tested the blade’s balance.

“When did I say that?”

“You… you didn’t kill me! I thought…”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Ethan confirmed, approaching with measured steps.

Relief flooded Vincent’s features like dawn breaking over darkness. “Thank you! I knew you weren’t like—”

THUNK.

The sword severed Vincent’s right arm at the shoulder with surgical precision. The limb hit the sand with a wet sound, blood spraying in a crimson arc across the desert floor.

Vincent’s scream split the evening air, his voice cracking under the strain of absolute agony.

“MY ARM! YOU CUT OFF MY ARM!”

*One down, three to go.*

“I said I wouldn’t kill you,” Ethan replied conversationally, wiping blood from his blade. “I never said anything about leaving you intact.”

THUNK.

The left arm followed its companion, joining the growing collection of severed limbs. Vincent’s screams reached new octaves as shock began setting in.

Two down.

Elena turned away, her stomach churning at the brutality. Even hardened warriors found the dismemberment difficult to watch.

“My Lord,” Marcus said quietly, “is this necessary?”

“Absolutely.”

“He’s Gold-rank,” Ethan explained without pausing his work. “Even crippled, he might find ways to escape or signal his allies. I can’t take that risk.”

THUNK.

Vincent’s right leg separated at the hip, his screams becoming hoarse croaks as his voice gave out. Blood loss was becoming critical even for his enhanced constitution.

Three down, one to go.

“Please…” Vincent whimpered, tears streaming down his face. “Please stop…”

“Almost finished,” Ethan assured him with clinical detachment.

THUNK.

The final limb joined its companions, leaving Vincent as nothing more than a torso with a head. Blood pooled beneath him, but his Gold-rank healing factor prevented immediate death from exsanguination.

Perfect. Mobile enough to talk, helpless enough to be harmless.

Ethan cleaned his blade methodically before returning it to storage. “There. Now you can’t run away before I have more questions.”

Vincent’s sobs echoed across the territory, a broken sound that carried more despair than physical pain. His earlier arrogance had been replaced by the absolute helplessness of prey.

Justice for every territory they’ve destroyed.

His subjects stared at the gruesome display with expressions ranging from satisfaction to horror. The dismemberment drove home the stakes they faced—mercy was a luxury they couldn’t afford.

They needed to see what we’re capable of.

“Jacoub,” Ethan called out, his tone returning to normal business efficiency. “How long for the first residential building?”

The architect shook himself from horrified fascination. “With maximum crew? Six hours if we work through the night.”

*Not ideal, but manageable.*

“Do it. I want that structure completed before dawn.”

“Yes, my Lord!”

*Territory upgrades first, then strategic planning.*

Ethan surveyed his subjects, noting their mixture of loyalty and fear. The brutal interrogation had demonstrated his commitment to their protection, but also revealed the lengths he’d go to ensure survival.

They need to understand the reality we’re facing.

“Everyone understand the situation now?” he asked, his voice carrying across their small gathering. “We’re not dealing with random bandits. This is war against a powerful organization.”

Jack nodded grimly. “What are your orders, my Lord?”

Time to see if impossible odds can be overcome.

“We prepare. We fortify. And we find a way to win against enemies who’ve never lost.”

Thirty-five hours and counting.

The evening wind carried Vincent’s continued sobbing across their territory—a reminder of what failure would mean for everyone they’d sworn to protect.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep