Chapter 391: Chapter 390- You are not alone

Raven led him to the plantation on the outskirts of town.

As they walked, Adrian noticed several guards stationed around the fields, swords sheathed but eyes sharp.

’This place is more guarded than the palace,’ he thought. But it made sense— in a world where famine was the real enemy, food had to be protected above all else.

When the guards noticed Raven, they stopped and saluted crisply. She gave a short nod and continued walking without a word until they reached a large dome.

Inside, rows of crops stretched neatly across the space—at least forty, Adrian guessed. People in dark red uniforms moved between them, checking plants and talking quietly. Farmers were watering and removing weeds.

But something else caught Adrian’s eye.

At the head of each row stood a stone pillar, about seven feet tall, carved with vertical runes that glowed faintly.

“That,” Raven said, following his gaze, “is our new sun. When we realized we couldn’t survive on the Luminescent Worms alone, we built these.”

Adrian raised an eyebrow. “What worms?”

Raven walked over to a wooden box by the wall and opened it. Inside was a small green worm, about the length of a finger. It wriggled weakly, its tail black, with two barely visible eyes.

“This little thing can provide enough energy to help plants grow,” Raven explained. “They breed year-round, so raising them isn’t a problem.”

Adrian hummed thoughtfully. “Then why not rely on them completely?”

Raven sighed as she placed the worm back. “Because they die after their first cycle. Once they release all their energy, they need mana to recover—but not just any mana. They require refined mana, more than any human can provide.”

She crossed her arms. “If we don’t release them into the soil, they’ll never run out of energy. But once they exhaust themselves, there’s no saving them.”

Adrian nodded slowly. “Feeding mana to a living being isn’t new. Usually, though, creatures share it naturally among themselves.”

“Exactly,” Raven replied. “That’s why we can’t depend on them forever. So, we developed these.”

She gestured toward the pillars again.

“You’ve probably figured it out already,” she said.

“Artificial sunlight,” Adrian guessed.

Raven smiled faintly and nodded.

“But how?” he asked, frowning slightly. “I’ve never seen plants absorb energy from light made by humans.”

Raven shrugged lightly. “We adapted. Not just humans—plants did too.”

Adrian nodded, his eyes drifting back to the rows of glowing pillars. “There are so many of them… how many light-users do you have?”

With more than forty pillars inside the dome, she would need at least half as many users to keep them active. That alone would be shocking—light affinity was among the rarest in existence.

Raven gave a faint, weary smile. “Only two.”

Adrian froze. “…Only two? And they’re handling all this?” His eyes widened in disbelief.

Using any affinity—whether light, fire, or wind—demanded effort. No matter how much mana one had, the body always reached its limit. After all, the mana hub—the brain—couldn’t work endlessly without rest.

Raven lowered her gaze. “Yes… as a person, I feel ashamed for pushing them so hard. But as a queen,” she said softly, “I don’t have another choice.”

Adrian chewed his lower lip, his eyes scanning the dome. Every worker moved with care, attentive to their task. Many of them must have families waiting at home—so many mouths depending on their effort.

“Has your perception of me changed?” Raven asked, her smile tinged with weariness.

Adrian blinked, caught off guard. “Huh… no. Nothing like that. I can see you’re not doing this for yourself, but for your people.”

Raven’s brows lifted in relief. “Oh… thank God. I’ve grown used to people looking at me with suspicion once they learn how much effort goes into keeping this place running.”

Adrian shrugged. “Well, if they were being forced, it would have been obvious. But seeing them now, it’s clear they don’t see this as just duty—they see it as a responsibility to their people.”

Raven’s lips curved into a warm smile. “I didn’t recruit anyone. They all volunteered, so they could feed their families.”

Adrian hummed, falling silent. His fingers cupped his chin as he thought, eyes distant yet focused.

Raven watched him quietly, her gaze softening at the seriousness etched on his face.

Then Adrian said softly, “Maybe… I can help.”

Raven blinked in surprise, and then heard him continue, “You’ve developed this technique recently, haven’t you?”

Raven nodded. “Yes… out of sheer necessity. Why do you ask?”

Adrian let out a light chuckle. “Because it’s simple.” He reached into the Time Chamber and pulled out two objects—one a pink, translucent stone, the other silvery-white.

“You know these?” he asked.

Raven’s eyes widened slightly. “This… is Heartstone. But this?”

Adrian shrugged. “Just a reflecting glass.”

He studied her expression, hoping she’d understand. When her puzzled look lingered, he sighed softly.

“Sorry, dear, for being so slow,” Raven admitted, huffing.

Adrian chuckled and explained, “You can inscribe runes onto the Heartstone, and the reflectors will bounce the light produced by the stone across the crops.”

He added, “With the runes on the Heartstone, the light-users won’t have to exhaust themselves every time the plants need illumination.”

Raven crossed her arms thoughtfully. “But…can the reflector cover the whole plantation?”

Adrian sighed, then drew his revolver and aimed it at one of the pillars.

*Thwack!*

The shot rang out, echoing through the dome. Everyone turned toward the sound as the bullet struck the pillar—and suddenly, it began to glow.

Adrian stepped forward, holding up the reflector. The light from the pillar hit the glass, and a single ray shot across the dome, bright and sharp.

Raven’s eyes widened. “That…” she breathed.

The light faded after a moment, and Adrian turned to her with a calm smile. “You saw that, right? With these reflectors, I can fill this entire place with light.”

The farmers nearby exchanged glances, sensing that something important had just happened—something that could change their lives for the better.

But Raven’s smile wavered. “We… don’t have enough Heartstone.”

Adrian shook his head. “Don’t worry. I have plenty. I’ll build you the artifact needed to produce the light.”

Resting his hands on his hips, he added confidently, “If my calculations are right, this whole dome will shine like daylight within a few days.”

He then walked off, carefully examining the structure and measuring the corners, already planning how to install the devices.

Raven stood still, watching him in silence. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and a soft smile tugged at her lips.

’As I thought,’ she whispered to herself, ’you really have changed… and it’s making me fall even deeper in love with you.’

….

Adrian spent the next few hours moving through the dome, carefully measuring distances, counting the number of reflectors and artifacts needed, and jotting down notes. He walked between the rows of crops, pausing to chat with the workers, explaining in simple terms how everything would work. The farmers listened intently, nodding as they absorbed each detail.

After finishing his calculations, he gathered everyone together and demonstrated exactly how to position the reflectors so that the entire dome would be bathed in light. He adjusted angles, explained how the runes would channel energy from the Heartstone, and showed them the small details that could make or break the setup.

They watched him with rapt attention, scribbling notes and asking the occasional clarifying question. Adrian smiled inwardly, recalling his class and the way he loved solving problems for his students. This scene was akin to a classroom.

“Is there anything you would like to ask?” he finally asked, looking over the group of seated farmers.

There was a brief silence. He waited, expecting someone to raise their hand, but all their doubts about the technical work had already been addressed. Then, a man at the front cleared his throat and asked the question on everyone’s mind:

“What will you get in return for helping us?”

Adrian chuckled softly, understanding completely. He could see the unspoken worry in their eyes: the chance to ease the hunger, the stress, and the uncertainty of the future. What he was offering could change their lives.

He paused for a moment, then smiled. “When the first crop grows, make a hearty meal for me with it. That will be enough payment.”

The farmers blinked, some exchanging amused glances, some smiling warmly. One elderly woman let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re too kind, young master. That’s… nothing in exchange for what you are doing for us.”

A few of the men smiled, muttering to each other about how light a reward that was compared to the change he was about to bring—but they didn’t insist on asking for more. That would be denying his kindness.

For the first time in a long while, there was a sense of hope in the air.

Adrian then returned to Raven’s side and heard her saying, “You don’t know what you have given to them.” Her voice was heavy with emotions, “A hope…that there is still someone who doesn’t see them as a traitor and want them to exist.”

Adrian felt his heart turning heavy seeing her like this.

A flash of memory passed through his eyes and before he knew he was embracing the woman, “It’s okay, you are not alone, Quinn.”

Raven’s eyes widened hearing that name from him after so long.

The last thread of restraint broke and she silently sobbed in his arms.

°°°°°°°

A/N:- Thanks for reading.

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