Chapter 73: Sovereign's Call to Arms

Monsters—true monsters, some towering over the stalls, others with claws and fangs—are selling wares to human customers. A merchant stall, manned by a heavily built orc, displays swords and armor unlike anything Roderic has ever seen. The metal gleams unnaturally under the daylight, the craftsmanship beyond what any human blacksmith could achieve. Another stand, run by a beastman, offers vials of shimmering liquid. Potions? A pair of goblins haggle with a human trader over a crate of enchanted bolts, their sharp voices rising in argument before they finally settle on a price. Roderic exhales sharply. "This is... real?" "Oi, you buying or just staring?" He turns to see a massive, four-armed troll behind the counter, its lower set of hands idly polishing a gleaming battleaxe while the upper two gesture at the displayed goods. Roderic swallows hard before stepping closer. "That blade," he nods to a black and white longsword, "how much?" The troll grins, revealing sharp teeth. "Twenty thousand gold coins." Roderic's face twitches. Twenty thousand gold? For this? From what he can see, the craftsmanship is excellent, but he has been in this business long enough to know that looks aren't everything. Judging by the balance and the faint energy it gives off, it's likely just a Tier 1 weapon. He can't be completely certain without using his [Appraisal] skill, but his instincts rarely fail him. Still, twenty thousand gold is daylight robbery. Roderic inhales slowly, keeping his expression neutral. "Can I appraise it?" The troll shrugs, crossing its lower arms while continuing to polish the battleaxe with the upper pair. "Go ahead." With a nod, Roderic activates his [Appraisal] skill. A soft glow envelops the sword, shifting into a steady green hue. His suspicion is confirmed. Tier 1. He nearly scoffs out loud. That price is an insult. No human merchant would ever get away with charging this much for a mere Tier 1 weapon. But then again... this isn't a human seller. He glances at the troll—massive, muscles like boulders, eyes glowing faintly with an inhuman light. Right. Haggling with this thing could be a fatal mistake. Suppressing a sigh, Roderic forces a polite smile. "Impressive craftsmanship." The troll grunts. "Of course it is." Roderic places the sword back on the counter, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, it's out of my budget for now." The troll smirks, baring sharp teeth. "Are you sure?" It gestures toward a thick wooden log positioned beside the stall. "What about you swing that sword at this log? Might give you a surprise." Roderic hesitates. As a merchant, he isn't exactly brimming with physical strength. Cutting through that log is impossible for someone like him, even if the sword is the sharpest Tier 1 blade in existence. But his curiosity gets the better of him. He picks up the sword again. It feels... normal. The balance is fine, the weight is as expected—nothing special. With a deep breath, he swings downward. He already expects the blade to bounce off, maybe leave a shallow cut at most. But instead— SHHHK! The sword nearly cleaves the log in half. Roderic stares, stunned. His arms tingle, his fingers tightening around the hilt as his mind races. That's not possible. "What...? How is that possible?" He takes a step back, his heart pounding. "Even if this sword were the sharpest Tier 1 weapon, with my strength, it should be impossible to cut through like that." The troll grins, arms crossing over its massive chest. "Human, you wanna know how it happened?" Roderic swallows, still gripping the sword. "Please... do tell me." The troll chuckles. "Because that sword grants its wielder a buff in strength. Can't you feel it?" Roderic furrows his brows and instinctively swings the sword again. WOOOSH! The air parts effortlessly, the motion smooth, almost... weightless. He can feel it now. His movements are sharper, stronger—his body lighter, yet more powerful. A weapon that enhances strength? That changes everything. Roderic exhales sharply, setting his stance. "I'll buy it. Twenty thousand gold." But before he can even pull out his pouch, the troll lifts a hand, shaking its head. "Not for sale anymore." Roderic freezes. "...What?" The troll's smirk widens, its tusks gleaming. "If you want it, you'll have to bid for it. We're holding an auction, and all we need is one more participant." Roderic's eye twitches. This bastard played me. He clenches his jaw, exhaling through his nose. There's nothing he can do—no haggling, no arguing. If he walks away, someone else will claim the sword. With a slow nod, he mutters, "Fine. Lead the way." The troll grins, motioning for him to follow. It leads him toward a large tent near the back of the marketplace. As Roderic steps inside, he immediately spots two other human merchants already seated at a rough wooden table. They don't even look at each other. Their expressions are grim, as if they're painfully aware of the fact that they've been played by a monster. But neither of them is leaving. Because just like him... They want that sword. The bidding war begins. --- Alix sits in his workspace, his gaze fixed on the transparent floating screen before him. His status display shows the current citizen count: 126,437. Still far from the 500,000 required to unlock Level 500. He exhales through his nose, fingers tapping lightly against the armrest of his chair. Progress is steady, but not fast enough. Suddenly, the shadows in the room ripple. Kieran materializes from the darkness, kneeling instantly. His deep voice carries a sharp edge of satisfaction. "Your Majesty, the rumors you ordered us to spread in the neighboring human cities—they were successful. A large number of merchants have already begun flocking to Delon City." Alix's lips curve slightly. "Good. With the items the monsters obtained from my dungeon, those human merchants are in for a shock." He leans back, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Gold coins will start flowing soon." He turns his attention to Kieran. "What about the Raltheon Kingdom's reaction to Delon City?" Kieran remains kneeling, his expression unreadable. "From the reports of the shadows stationed in Eldoria, the army hasn't mobilized to reclaim the city. Instead, the king has issued a Sovereign's Call to Arms in the Adventurers' Guild." Alix raises a brow. "A Sovereign's Call?" Kieran nods. "It's a special request where a ruling monarch petitions adventurers to reclaim a city overrun by monsters. Unlike a formal military campaign, this draws in mercenaries, independent warriors, and high-ranking adventurers who see it as both a challenge and an opportunity for wealth and prestige." Alix hums in thought, fingers drumming against the armrest. "So instead of sending his army, he's relying on adventurers. A wise choice... for a desperate man." Kieran nods. "Indeed. It minimizes losses on his side while ensuring that strong individuals answer the call. Alix smirks. "That depends. Adventurers are unpredictable, but without proper coordination, they'll just be a chaotic force fighting for personal gain. I doubt they can reclaim Delon City with just mercenaries." He leans forward slightly. "Keep monitoring the situation in all three kingdoms. If any major threats appear, I want to know immediately." Kieran bows his head. "Understood, Your Majesty." As Kieran vanishes into the shadows, Alix shifts his focus to the system interface. With a thought, he connects to Varkas. Deep within a private training hall, Varkas looking at Nikon swings his sword. But the moment Alix's voice echoes in his mind, he stop Nikon. "Varkas," Alix's voice is calm yet commanding. "Go to Delon City. You don't need to interfere unless a Level 500+ human appears." Varkas immediately straightens, his golden eyes flashing with understanding. "As you wish, Your Majesty." With that, he sheathes his sword and turns to Nikon. "Training is over for today." Nikon nods, "Yes, Father." Stepping back as Varkas take out a flying carriage. Days pass, and Delon City transforms into a battlefield in waiting. The adventurers—twenty thousand strong—gather outside the city, their excitement palpable. The rewards offered by the Raltheon Kingdom are absurdly generous. Many of these adventurers would normally never risk attacking an entire monster-held city, but a Sovereign's Call to Arms is rare. Some even consider it a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. In Delon City, Sorin stands atop the walls, her gaze locked on the adventurers assembling beyond the gates. She has seen armies before—disciplined, trained soldiers who fight as one. But this? This is chaos waiting to happen. While twenty thousand adventurers is a staggering force, they are nothing like a real army. Some are elite warriors, seasoned veterans with battle-worn armor and eyes that have seen death. Others are reckless youths, drawn by the promise of wealth and glory. They wear mismatched gear, shifting impatiently, eager for the battle to begin. Sorin exhales, her sharp eyes scanning the horizon. Behind her, the ten thousand-strong monster army waits in disciplined silence. But they are not the same as before. Their auras have changed. Sorin can feel it—the subtle but undeniable presence of something more. It is the special skill granted by His Majesty. A power that binds them together, sharpening their instincts, making them move as a single entity. The days of scattered, instinct-driven combat are over. Now, they are a true army. She turns to Thurn and Veltha, Nyssara, and Groth, who stand beside him. "They'll attack soon," Sorin says, her voice steady. "They believe numbers and greed will win this for them." Veltha, her crimson scales gleaming under the morning sun, lets out a soft chuckle. "They don't know what they're walking into." Thurn said. "Let them come. His Majesty has given us all we need."