Malphegor
patreon
MoP: Ch. 55
🕑 Added 2025-02-11 22:51:30 +0000 UTC---Viktor's POV---
Great Leader, huh?
I sighed internally at this formulaic prefix. It was the reward trigger I had set up myself.
Back when players discovered the iron ore vein, I promised to assist them three times if the trigger was used. Each time, I would cast a spell at or below the intermediate level.
The Initial intention was to enrich the variety of quest rewards while giving players—who couldn't become intermediate-level mages in a short time—a taste of what intermediate magic could offer.
However, due to the limited tasks players could currently undertake, they had already used two of these opportunities just to have me chop down trees for quests.
This completely undermined my dignity as the leader of the faction! The situation was becoming increasingly ridiculous.
At least there was some relief: once ProGamer_Daddy used up the remaining opportunity, I wouldn't need to sell myself out anymore.
Resigned to my fate, I left my beloved recliner, already anticipating another mundane request. "Are you asking me to chop trees for you again?"
"No, no, we wouldn't make you do that all the time!" he replied quickly, waving his hands.
Before I could breathe a sigh of relief, he added with growing enthusiasm, "We found a huge rocky hill in the southeast. Could you help us blow it open and, uh, bring the materials back for us?"
"Preferably shaped into rectangular blocks for easier quest hand-ins!"
"Oh, and if you could just transport them directly to the hand-in location, that'd be even better!"
Though at this rate, they'll probably ask me to build them a palace. I felt my face darkening as I listened to each increasingly presumptuous request. "Why don't I skip all the steps and just hand you the quest rewards?"
ProGamer_Daddy's face lit up with excitement, completely missing my sarcasm. "Really? Is that an option?"
"Of course not!" I massaged my forehead in frustration, wondering how I got myself into this situation.
I must have been too accommodating before, letting them push their luck like this. If it weren't for the trade deal involving thread spider silk, I'd have already kicked this kid with his daydreaming ideas into the stratosphere!
Hm... The thought was really tempting.
I suspected his urgency to complete the quest had something to do with the 1,000 magicoins they spent earlier on thread spider silk. Right now, the only major expense was likely buying land. The economics of it all was painfully obvious.
Fine, I'd help them one last time. At least this would be the end of it.
"Blowing up the rocky hill and transporting materials requires two spells. I can only help with half of that," I explained, trying to maintain some dignity in the situation.
"Alright! We'll handle the transporting then!" ProGamer_Daddy agreed enthusiastically without hesitation. "Don't forget, we want rectangular stone blocks!"
I remained silent, increasingly feeling like disposable manual labor. The indignity of it all was almost too much to bear.
---
Exhausting the last bit of magic power I could muster for the day, I finally satisfied ProGamer_Daddy's requests. Leaning heavily on my magic staff, I returned to my residence. Even as an undead, prolonged depletion of magic could result in fatigue—something these players never seemed to consider.
Tonight, I wouldn't bother heading to the chapel to recharge my magic energy.
I opened the door and once again marveled at the flashy remodeling skills of the players. Even though the wooden house's foundation was barely passable—obviously a temporary structure—they insisted on designing it as a fully equipped, single-story villa.
"Why would an undead need a kitchen or bathroom?" I muttered to myself, shaking my head at the absurdity. "This is probably the land they really want to buy..."
It seemed they were building a house modeled on what the three players themselves wanted to live in.
Maybe when they eventually moved out of Honeyvale, I could sell this house back to them. At least there might be some profit in this arrangement.
"Wait a minute!"
Just as I was about to shut the door and rest, LootGoblin, who had been hesitating until now, finally spoke up, his voice trembling slightly.
"Leader, I still have something to say!"
I looked down, surprise flashing in my eyes. "You didn't leave?"
I had assumed he would have gone after completing the magicoin transaction. Why was he still here, looking so nervous?
LootGoblin took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and adopted a look of someone ready to face their doom. He suddenly bowed deeply, his whole body tense.
"I'm sorry, Leader! I deceived the organization. I don't know how to invent things, and I'm terrible at farming!"
"If there's any punishment, just tell me outright. Don't keep scaring me with prank tasks!"
I could see LootGoblin's worry written all over his face, leaving me speechless. If I didn't respond soon, he might even die of... whatever he was feeling.
"Actually, I never intended to punish you," I tried to explain reasonably.
"No, you absolutely did!" LootGoblin turned away in disbelief, fully immersed in his own strange imagination. "Do it! Don't pity me just because I'm delicate!"
"I've got over a thousand magicoins on hand. Just deduct whatever you want!"
I felt a vein pop on my forehead. "What nonsense are you imagining now?"
Was he doing business with the Lucky Stars Team just so he could pay fines to me? If I didn't accept the payment, wouldn't that seem rude?
Swallowing the explanation I was about to offer, I solemnly declared, "You're right, Comrade LootGoblin. The organization is deeply disappointed in you!"
"Considering this is your first offense, I'll be lenient with the fine—300 magicoins!"
Recovering some magicoins would help stabilize the current market, after all. It seemed the most practical solution.
"Only 300?" LootGoblin looked up in shock and delight. "So you won't bother me anymore after this?"
"Let me reiterate—I've never targeted anyone!"
When I discovered his falsified registration details, I had indeed been angry—but at myself. Ultimately, it was my failure as the reviewer that led to this situation. As for LootGoblin, all I did was spook him once when he logged in. The misunderstanding had grown far beyond my expectations.
How had that turned into a persistent grudge in his mind? Every player's game interface was updated manually by me. Wasn't it normal for me to observe them behind the scenes?
I wanted to explain, but he was no longer listening. Arms spread wide, he ran out the door, his voice echoing far into the distance.
"Hahaha! I'm finally free! I'm free baby!!"
I stood there in silence, watching him go. Forget it. The person in question didn't seem to care about the truth.
Entering my bedroom, I surveyed the sparse furnishings. There was only a bed made of soul wood, designed to nourish spirits. A workstation for spying on player activities and brewing potions stood against one wall. On it were a few semi-finished products I had been working on recently.
Since experimenting with forbidden magic often caused storage spaces to explode, most of my collection was hidden elsewhere and currently inaccessible. As a result, the room felt particularly bare, though that suited my needs well enough.
After syncing the goblin and thread spider data to the game's official website, I set it to publish at midnight. I also uploaded an edited video of the players' first kill of the red-scaled worm.
The administrative tasks never seemed to end.
"There's still not enough manpower…"
Looking out at the night sky, I sighed deeply. The current number of Watcher members was far from sufficient to sustain the operation of Chronicles of Aeltia.
It was a problem that would need addressing soon.
Unfortunately, those bunch of brats didn't seem to know what was going on. Not only were they not helping me with tasks, but in the end, they were probably waiting for me to rescue them, just like Claire!
I shook my head, throwing off these distracting thoughts, and started recording today's log.
"Discovered a goblin nest near Honeyvale. The feasibility of scavenging corpses by luring unfortunates into the Great Oak Forest has drastically declined and needs to be re-evaluated."
"Furthermore, the sample size for corpse scavenging is too small. It's unrealistic to hope that everyone is as gullible as Alyanne."
In the human world, dragonborn who were both naive and gifted remain too rare. Even picking up a random fanatic was already troublesome enough for me. The best way to increase the local labor force of The Watchers would be for Edgar to bring back a few SSR characters.
After all, he was heading to Nary, which had far more people than the Great Oak Forest. The chances of finding suitable helpers there were much higher.
As I was contemplating this, a white grass bird made from resilient grass flew in through the window. After perching on my skeletal hand, the glow surrounding it quickly faded, and it fell sideways.
"Edgar's letter?"
---
Viktor,
I trust this message finds you well. The search in Nary Town has been unexpectedly fruitful. I've identified two promising candidates who meet your specifications:
Both possess considerable magical aptitude and, more importantly, show the kind of wavering faith you prefer. Their circumstances have left them... skeptical of divine benevolence. You'll appreciate this detail.
They've agreed to our terms regarding Honeyvale's prayer-less nature. One seems particularly eager to leave organized religion behind entirely.
I shall escort them personally once I conclude matters here. I believe you'll find them suitable additions to our cause.
Edgar
---
"That fast?" I was overjoyed.
He had overexerted himself using excessive power during the Sea God's revival ritual and was severely injured. He'd only set out after two days of rest. And now, just a day after leaving, he'd already brought good news!
Maybe by the time Edgar returned, the population of native inhabitants in Honeyvale might even leap from single digits to double digits! My mind kept running wild with the idea and I couldn't help grinning wider by the second Even the exhaustion from my excessive magic consumption seemed to vanish.
I decided to head out again and look for Alyanne.
Unfortunately, she was not at home. So, I found myself at a loss and eventually tracked her down to the mission settlement warehouse.
A bonfire was burning at the warehouse entrance, illuminating piles of timber and stone inside, as well as Alyanne, sitting at the door and yawning endlessly.
When she saw me approaching, she instantly perked up.
---Third POV---
"May the Goddess of Frostmoon bless... no, good evening, Leader."
Alyanne lowered her head in frustration.
Revealing her continued faith in the Frostmoon Goddess in front of the leader of The Watchers was practically a death wish.
Fortunately, Viktor didn't care.
Faith wasn't something that could be changed overnight.
Besides, she was just a scatterbrained temporary worker—who also happened to be a dragon.
"Good evening, Alyanne. Still not resting at this hour?"
She pursed her lips, looking troubled.
Viktor immediately understood. "Player-related?"
Alyanne nodded reluctantly, "There are still four gentlemen gathering stone outside. It seems like they plan to pull an all-nighter..."
Since some players were still working on their missions, as the person responsible for task settlement, Alyanne naturally couldn't leave before them.
In fact, because of the players' irregular schedules, she had to wake up earlier than the first player to log in and could only rest after the last player logged off.
For three whole days, she hadn't gotten a proper night's sleep!
If this continued for 50 years, she seriously doubted whether she could survive it.
"Uh…" Viktor was momentarily at a loss for words.
Without even activating his GM privileges, he knew that the four players refusing to log off were none other than the "Lucky Stars Team."
They were clearly planning to grind all night to exchange all the stone he had cut into task rewards.
They really didn't treat their in-game bodies like real people.
Looking at Alyanne, who seemed on the verge of cursing yet held herself back, he felt a bit awkward.
Not noticing her excessive work hours was indeed his oversight.
Players still had lives back on Earth and couldn't all log in and out like normal people.
With only three players previously, this issue had remained hidden.
After pondering for a moment, Viktor said, "This is my mistake. Starting tomorrow, I'll reorganize your work schedule."
Notifying all players would take time, so she'd have to endure one more sleepless night.
Thinking about the questions he was about to ask her, his conscience ached—briefly.
Then, without hesitation, he asked, "Besides your work hours, is there anything else you need?"
Alyanne's eyes widened slightly, and she shook her head vigorously.
"Of course not. It's just guarding the warehouse and tallying resources. The tasks you've assigned me are already very light."
In fact, watching a group of mages do hard labor while she stayed in a room made her feel guilty instead.
"You're sure? Can you handle the current number of players?"
"Absolutely!"
Alyanne quickly added, "While their personalities are... unique, overall, they're very easy to get along with!"
After their cold behavior on the first day, the players had become much more cooperative, just as Garble had advised her.
Though her work hours were long, her workload wasn't heavy.
Most players hated hassle and typically waited until they'd accumulated multiple completed tasks before coming for rewards.
Her job alternated between long stretches of idleness and sudden bursts of activity.
If she complained, she'd seem ungrateful.
"Even if their number triples or quadruples, I can handle it!"
After speaking, she added in a quieter voice,
"That is, if you're really going to revise my work hours..."
"Great! That's what I wanted to hear!"
Viktor patted her shoulder, pleased.
"There won't be three or four times as many players, but more will definitely return soon, so it's good you're mentally prepared!"
Alyanne froze for a moment, stammering.
"New players?"
"Of course. The Watchers aren't some tiny organization—there are far more members than this."
Viktor gave her a warm smile.
Whether she could feel the "warmth" in the smile of a skeleton remained to be seen.
"I'll handle things here. Go home and get a good night's sleep."
Under Viktor's firm insistence, Alyanne handed over her little notebook that recorded players' task completions and left in a daze.
It wasn't until she had walked a considerable distance that she came to her senses.
"The Watchers' peak activity period was centuries ago. Are there still that many members now?"
But that wasn't the point.
The point was, she'd only been speaking hypothetically. She didn't actually want to deal with more players!
Giving out quest items and settling tasks was easy enough.
The hard part was handling the players themselves—who often surrounded her during their free time, making strange and nonsensical requests!
And now, more of them would be coming?!
No way. She couldn't handle this!
In the dark of the night, Alyanne slapped her forehead in frustration, letting out a silent scream for the chaotic days ahead.
![Noah Productions [NP] from patreon](https://patrefans.com/kistorage/42432.jpg)
