Uriel had the ability to levitate and glide effortlessly above the ground—a feat that caught Eden entirely off guard. She had chosen Human as her guide's race, yet she knew of no human capable of defying gravity. But then again, nothing about this place was normal, and the body she currently inhabited was far from her own.
Uriel had informed Eden that she had a village where she was the monarch. With urgency to get started they had agreed to rush to the location of her village.
As they rode side-by-side through the sprawling landscape toward a small, frontier-style village built of rugged timber and stone, a lingering question nagged at the back of her mind. If human physical bodies cannot be transported here, does that mean all these mystical races and mythical beasts are flesh-and-blood realities?
Waiting just outside the village perimeter stood a contingent of soldiers clad in coarse peasant garb. They stood over six feet tall, each bearing distinct, individualized facial features. When Eden focused her gaze on them, their ranks and power tiers flickered into view across their garments. She thought, don't NPCs usually have a similar face, but decided to leave that thought for later. She had to think strategically.
"Is there a way to hide their rank and stats?" Eden asked, slowing her black steed, Thunder, to a walk.
"Stats are concealed at a casual glance from outsiders," Uriel answered smoothly. "However, once an official engagement or scouting report is processed, opposing forces can access partial data. Complete transparency requires the monarch to reach specific tier thresholds and max out the scouting skill tree. Your personal power level, however, is permanently broadcast via aura scan—that cannot be masked."
As Eden approached the market square, a soldier bearing a Rank 1 insignia stepped forward, dropping smoothly to one knee and bowing his head.
"My liege, you have returned," the NPC intoned, his voice steady and scripted. "Our forces are small, but under your command, we will grow as destined in the chronicles of Assisi. I am honored to serve."
Around him, the rest of the garrison dropped into identical salutes.
"Your soldiers rejoice at your return from the distant lands where the sorcerer cast you," Uriel chimed in, seamlessly weaving into the local narrative. "When your father and mother perished in the Great War, your royal dragon fell into slumber, leaving the populace unprotected. It was only when a meteor shower shattered the sorcerer's boundary seal that your return became possible. Word has already spread to neighboring domains. The heirs have awakened."
The NPCs look entirely realistic, yet they're clearly locked into a script, Eden thought, narrowing her eyes. Even Uriel plays along when they're watching.
Focusing on the soldier directly before her—a broad-shouldered man with chestnut hair and piercing light-blue eyes—she brought up his menu. A floating interface materialized: Name: Troop 1 | Background: Unknown | Position: Knight. She scrolled down to inspect his strengths, combat focuses, and a series of locked optimization functions. Right beside his designation sat an edit icon. Though renaming an automated NPC felt bizarre, nothing in Evansly played by standard rules.
"Can I change every soldier's name?" Eden asked.
"Yes," Uriel confirmed.
Utilizing the feature, Eden custom-named all one hundred soldiers under her command, issuing immediate orders for them to secure rations and resume combat drills.
Surveying the village layout, she mapped out the functional infrastructure surrounding her ruined inner citadel: a forge, training grounds, an academy, a storage depot, beast stables, a rally hall, an embassy, housing quarters, a tavern, an art hall, a dining hall, a garden, a shrine, the villager district, the marketplace, and the sprawling agricultural farms flanking the inner stone walls.
"Their stats—how do I push them as high as possible?" Eden asked, turning to her guide.
"Through rigorous field training, academic research at the academy, and tier promotions," Uriel explained. "However, your troops' growth is permanently capped by your own level, Great Eden. You must expand your personal power to elevate them into true knights and unlock higher efficiency boosts. Initial resources are sparse, but monster raids and plundering rival territories will yield the materials you need."
Dismounting, Eden inspected the marketplace. Rows of rare items glittered behind currency locks, but she decided to hold onto her gems. Boss monsters often dropped high-tier gear; she wanted to be frugal until she fully understood the economy.
Next, she toured the forge, noting the steep prerequisite chains required to unlock advanced armor fabrication. The art hall featured empty pedestals with descriptions of passive power buffs waiting to be filled. The beast stable doors remained bolted shut behind level-gated locks—yet another administrative wall. The academy mirrored the restriction, requiring high-tier research investments before granting access to deeper aisles. Every single municipal building operated under strict progression gates.
Walking the perimeter wall, Eden paused at intricate arcane runes carved into the stone. She glanced at Uriel. "What are these for?"
"Activation glyphs for your territorial shield," Uriel replied. "A localized forcefield will envelop the city, protecting its infrastructure and inhabitants from external assaults."
"How do I activate it?"
Uriel snapped his fingers. A holographic menu sprang to life between them. "Your core arsenal houses the protective barrier items, along with your general inventory, resource caches, and comms items. This channel routes to alliance networks; this one handles private encrypted messaging; and this final tab accesses the global server feed."
With a flick of his wrist, Uriel mirrored the interface outward, transferring control directly to Eden's hands.
Through the global feed, chaotic text logs scrolled past at breakneck speed. Panicked players from across Earth were screaming into the void, realizing they had been pulled into a digital crucible, while others frantically attempted to establish survival pacts.
"How are alliances formed?" Eden asked, watching the digital panic unfold.
"Through direct diplomatic encounters during your travels, bulletin boards posted in regional markets, or by purchasing a sovereign banner—though that demands coin and recruitment time," Uriel said.
"And my personal stats?"
"Train your sword mastery in the yards, study arcane metrics at the academy, and execute high-risk boss raids. Securing an alliance grants passive collective buffs, and fortifying your inner castle prestige will permanently anchor regional bonuses."
Sensing Uriel's deep responsiveness, Eden tested a new hypothesis. "Uriel, are you capable of autonomously filtering data and relaying directives when prompted?"
"Fixed parameters allow me to process and return tactical briefs upon command," Uriel nodded. "Though complex actions still require you to address me directly by name."
"Can I alter my avatar skin?" Eden asked, eyeing her reflection in a polished shield.
"Yes. Skins can be acquired via market exchange or event rewards."
"Do cosmetic skins grant stat modifiers?"
"Skins are purely aesthetic," Uriel clarified. "Combat buffs are tied directly to your active armor sets. To swap loadouts in the field, simply command 'activate' followed by the designated gear or boost nomenclature."
Eden let out a long, heavy sigh, realizing the staggering amount of micro-management required to survive. Returning to the marketplace one last time, she bypassed the cosmetic shop, recognizing that vanity items were useless against the approaching night. But she did end up buying a few robes and lapels.
She walked toward the heart of the settlement, where her skeletal inner castle stood half-rebuilt. Peasants and laborers moved mechanically through the courtyards, avoiding eye contact as they adhered strictly to their programmed routines.
Out of her hundred troops, Eden hand-selected five elite fighters, promoting them to knight commanders: Arthur, Gabriel, Sir Lancelot, Gwaine, and Sir Tristan. She did like the story those names referenced. It also served her as a reminder to move forward.
Returning to Thunder, she swung herself into the saddle. She looked down at Uriel with cold determination. "Uriel, Get the men ready. We are riding out for a boss raid. We don't return until we have enough resources to fortify this citadel."
Without knowing exact stat requirements or enemy scaling, this raid would serve as her live-fire stress test to evaluate damage outputs and drop tables.
The initial skirmishes against low-tier reptile beasts proved manageable; her soldiers handled them individually, though the drops yielded meager resources—barely five percent of the material required to forge a basic magic stone or mint a single coin. Eden suppressed a groan, acutely aware that she could not afford early-game casualties.
Soon, the troops approached the gaping maw of a cave. Eden raised a gauntleted hand, signaling a halt. She prepared to dismount and take point, but Uriel stepped into her path.
"My liege, protocol dictates the monarch never breaches unmapped sectors first. It is the knight-commander's duty to scout."
As if triggered by a cue, Arthur stepped forward, saluting crisply. "Allow me."
Before Eden could counter the order, a towering Minotaur exploded from the cave entrance, bringing its massive crude blade down with earth-shattering force toward Arthur.
Without a second thought, Eden spurred Thunder forward, throwing her dual blades up just in time to intercept the falling blow. "Knight-commanders, attack!" she roared, trying to lock blades with the beast.
Arthur, Gabriel, Sir Lancelot, Gwaine, and Sir Tristan charged in tandem, but the Minotaur swept its arm in a devastating backhand arc, effortlessly swatted all five commanders backward into the dirt.
Panic spiked in Eden's chest as the monster recovered, raising its weapon for a killing strike against her line. She had no idea what would happen to her men because she forgot to ask. Half the remaining infantry were already flashing critical health warnings.
Think! she ordered herself, latching onto her only trump card. "Uriel! Intercept the Minotaur!"
Uriel moved with supernatural velocity. A crackling barrier of energy intercepted the giant's downward arc, shielding Eden from impact while a violent discharge of stored lightning locked the Minotaur's musculature in place. A glistening shield appeared in front of Eden as Uriel illuminated the area with his energy.
"Now strike!" Eden yelled. The men moved in.
Leaping off Thunder's back while the beast was paralyzed, Eden drove her blades deep into its vulnerable flank, finishing the kill.