Necromancer: Kingdom Building with My Legion of Undead Knights

Darion lay on his bed, staring at the decorated ceiling, his mind still turning over the numbers he had just seen.

The population had grown from 2,148 to 2,469. Over three hundred new people had come to Percvale, people who had once left and were now returning.

It was a sign of progress, a sign that the barony was becoming a place worth living in again.

He thought about why Percvale had improved in population. It wasn’t just because he had rebuilt the castle or restored the farmlands.

It was because Percvale had become better to live in. Families that had left started returning to their homes, to their families, to the place where they had been born and raised.

People who had once fled in search of a better life were now coming back, drawn by the hope that things were finally changing.

A place that was dying and bad would have people leaving for a better place. That was simple logic. When the situation was hopeless, when there was no food, no work, no future, people left.

They packed up their belongings, said goodbye to their homes, and traveled to places where they could survive. It was not a betrayal. It was survival.

But when things started to change, when the barony began to recover, they came back. They came back to their place, to their families, to the land that had been their home for generations.

They came back because they had heard the news, because they had seen the changes, because they had begun to believe again.

And now, one may think, why did they leave in the first place? Of course, the situation of the barony was critical, but they could have been loyal.

They could have stayed, could have endured, could have held on to hope. But hope was a fragile thing, and loyalty without hope was just a cage.

Well... fuck loyalty in the situation Percvale was before. Percvale was in a very critical condition.

The barony was dying, its people starving, its knights weak and broken. The previous Barons had been useless, more interested in their own comfort than in the well-being of their people.

They had borrowed huge amounts of money, spent it on lavish lifestyles, and left the barony drowning in debt.

They had promised to change things, to make things better, but their promises had been hollow, empty words that meant nothing.

And to have loyalty, you have to have hope. But how could you have hope in a place that had very unserious Barons?

How could you believe in a future when the people in charge were more interested in their own pleasure than in the welfare of their subjects?

How could you stay when every day was a struggle for survival, when there was no food, no work, no future?

It made you just lose hope. It made you question everything, made you wonder if there was any point in staying. And eventually, it made you leave.

Darion wouldn’t have blamed anyone who left. If it was him, he would have taken matters into his own hands and maybe killed the Baron or something.

Start a rebellion. He had read about such things in history books, about people who had risen up against their oppressors, who had fought for their freedom, who had refused to accept the status quo.

Imagine how that would have been. The people of Percvale, desperate and angry, gathering in the streets, their faces hard with determination.

They would have marched on the castle, their voices raised in protest, their fists raised in defiance.

The Baron would have been caught off guard, unable to defend himself against the fury of his own people. It would have been bloody, brutal, and decisive.

The Baron would have fallen, and a new leader would have risen to take his place.

But that hadn’t happened. The people had been too broken, too hopeless, too beaten down to fight back. They had just accepted their fate, packed up their belongings, and left.

Darion thought about what he had done differently. He had given them hope. He had shown them that things could change, that the future could be brighter.

He had rebuilt the farmlands, brought in livestock, and created jobs. He had restored the castle, repaired the walls, and made the barony a place worth living in. He had given them a reason to stay, a reason to believe.

And they responded. Some had come back, their faith renewed, their hopes restored. They had seen the changes and decided that Percvale was worth another chance.

Darion smiled. It was a good feeling, knowing that he had made a difference.

———

Darion lay on his bed thinking some more, his mind drifting through the events of the past weeks. The castle was finished, the beds were being bought, and the barony was thriving. But there was still more to do, more to achieve and more to build.

He decided to stand up and go hunt. It was time to use his Borrowed Sight ability and his sword to do some fighting.

Since Darion had awakened the Borrowed Sight ability, he hadn’t used it. Not really. Not in any meaningful way. When he had first discovered it, back in the forest after the bird hunt, he had been eager, excited, almost giddy with the possibilities.

He had tested it immediately, sending his undead bird into the sky and seeing through its eyes. He had felt the rush of being in the air, the strange disorientation of looking down at his own body from above.

It had been exhilarating, a glimpse of something new and powerful.

But after that first test, he hadn’t tried it again. The construction had taken over his life, consuming his days and his attention. There had been no time for experiments, no space for exploration.

The castle had demanded everything, and he had given it willingly.

Normally, when he awakened a new ability, he was always eager to try it. To see what it could do. To push its limits, test its boundaries, understand its full potential.

That was just who he was, the kind of person who couldn’t leave a new tool untested. But this time, it had been different. The timing had been off, the circumstances had been wrong, and the opportunity had slipped away.

He had tried this Borrowed Sight ability, but it was just then, when he had just awakened the ability. A quick test, a brief experiment, and then nothing. He had seen through the eyes of his undead bird, had watched the forest from above, and then he had dismissed it, try with a animal on ground and dismissed it. He had sort of filed it away in the back of his mind, a tool to be used later, when there was time.

And now, later had arrived. The castle was finished, the workers were gone, and the quiet had returned.

There was time again, space to explore, room to grow. It was the perfect moment to revisit the ability, to see what it could really do, to unlock its full potential.

He had also been training for weeks, mastering the moves from the ancient book, learning to channel the golden light. Now it was time to put it to the test, to see if it really worked in a real fight.

He stood up, stretched his arms, and walked to the door. The castle was quiet, the corridors empty. Garren and Seren were still at the market, and the workers were gone. It was just him, the silence, and the call of the forest.

He left the room, his footsteps echoing on the stone floor.