The sun dipped below the horizon, casting golden-orange hues across the sky as Ravenna sat in her study, the flickering candlelight illuminating the parchment spread across her desk. A warm cup of tea rested in her hands as she meticulously reviewed the defensive strategy for the impending attack. The subtle bitterness of the brew grounded her thoughts, allowing her to focus.
Just as she reached for another sip, a translucent panel materialized before her eyes, its ethereal glow casting a faint shimmer across the wooden desk.
[ Reputation Points System ]
+2 Points: Slave Max is terrified of becoming your subject.
+2 Points: Slave Jack is terrified of becoming your subject.
+2 Points: Slave Brandon is terrified of becoming your subject.
Ravenna’s brow lifted slightly as she set the teacup down. “Oh? What’s this?” she mused, her fingers lightly tracing the floating words before her. Expanding the log for further details, she examined the newest entry.
[ Reputation Log ]
Title: Slave
Name: Brandon Freeman
Reason: After overhearing that the ship he and his family were imprisoned on was bound for Jola Island, he became terrified of becoming your subject—the unruly and ruthless princess of Ancrona. He fears that you will be his new owner and that the men transporting them are selling him and his loved ones into your hands.
Background: Brandon Freeman was a simple farmer from a remote village near Nexus Town, located on the Ancrona-Estra border. Several months ago, a series of brutal raids swept through the region, leading to the mass capture and enslavement of its inhabitants. Brandon and his family were among those unfortunate enough to be taken.
Ravenna tapped her finger against the wooden desk thoughtfully. "I wonder how the system determines titles for individuals..." she murmured. The information within the log was highly useful—it not only provided her with insight into how her reputation was perceived but also confirmed that the ship carrying the slaves was en route to Jola Island. That meant the attack could commence at any time.
“They’ll likely sail slowly under the cover of darkness,” she speculated. “The best time for an ambush would be when I’m expected to be in the lord’s castle.”
With that thought in mind, she rang a small brass bell on her desk, summoning her trusted knights and advisors. As she waited for them to arrive, she considered the mechanics of the reputation system further. "The last time I tested it, I managed to bait it into revealing details about Jessica Ronin…"
It was clear to her now—this log information wasn’t random. It provided her with precisely the information she needed at the right moment. Was it a built-in function? A protocol that ensured relevance? If so, she could manipulate it to gain more intelligence.
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The more she pondered, the more certain she became. "If I can replicate this effect intentionally, I can turn this into a powerful tool for gathering information."
Her musings were interrupted by a firm knock on the door. "Come in," she called.
The door creaked open, and four figures stepped inside—Hughes, John, Alice, and James. Their faces bore the weight of unspoken concerns.
Ravenna wasted no time. She relayed the intelligence she had gathered and shared her analysis of the attack’s probable timing. The room fell into intense discussion as they planned countermeasures and strategies to fortify their defenses. Once their meeting concluded, the group dispersed, each with their own tasks to attend to.
As they exited the study, John turned to Hughes and asked, "Captain, how exactly does Her Highness know about the attack’s arrival?"
Hughes, hesitated slightly. "She must have a spy network feeding her information."
John, arms folded behind his head as he walked, scoffed. "If she has spies, why didn’t she use them back in the capital? Something feels off. Ever since we arrived at Jola Island, she’s been full of surprises—making ice, producing that bizarre material she calls 'cement' for construction, even crafting intricate things like those clocks. It’s like she has knowledge beyond our understanding."
Hughes exhaled sharply, glancing at the fading light in the corridor. "I won’t deny it—I’ve had my own doubts. But questioning her directly? I wouldn’t dare. And frankly, I doubt any of us would."
James, ever the religious one, chimed in thoughtfully. "Perhaps she is blessed by the Goddess Herptian and has received divine knowledge."
Alice chuckled at the notion. "Ravenna? The same Ravenna who never once prayed at the temple, who scoffs at religious traditions? Goddess Herptian would sooner bless a beggar than her."
Hughes stroked his chin. "Still… don’t you think it’s strange?"
Alice conceded with a sigh. "Strange, yes. But confronting her about it? That’s an entirely different matter."
As they spoke, a cheerful humming echoed down the corridor. Marie, Ravenna’s young apprentice, skipped toward them, her auburn curls bouncing with each step. Upon seeing the group, her face lit up.
"Whoa, all the important people are gathered here!" she chirped. She curtsied toward James. "Greetings, Your Holiness!"
Alice, ever the strict tutor, placed her hands on her hips. "Marie, how many times must I remind you? A lady must greet people properly. How do you expect to conduct yourself at tea ceremonies or noble gatherings with Her Highness in the future?"
Marie pouted. "S-Sorry…" She then tilted her head curiously. "What were you all talking about?"
Hughes exchanged glances with the others before replying, "We were discussing whether or not Her Highness has been blessed by Goddess Herptian."
Marie blinked in confusion. "Oh? But isn’t that obvious?"
John raised a brow. "What do you mean?"
Marie nodded enthusiastically. "Master told me herself that she is!"
A collective silence fell over the group. "She did what?" they echoed in unison.
Marie, oblivious to their shock, recounted, "When she first made iron from black sand, she told me, 'The land speaks if you know how to listen, Marie. And sometimes, the answers are hidden in history, waiting to be rediscovered.' Doesn’t that mean she’s been blessed with divine wisdom?"
Without waiting for a response, she cheerfully added, "Well, I mustn’t keep Master waiting! I have to help her in the study." With that, she skipped past them and disappeared into Ravenna’s office.
The corridor remained eerily silent as the group stood frozen in place, the weight of Marie’s words settling upon them. Each of them wrestled with the same thought—just how much did Ravenna truly know, and what was the source of her boundless wisdom?