I stood up, brushing the dust off my hands, and took a deep breath. It was time to flex my divine muscles a little.
My magic wasn't anything to scoff at — it was no less than holy magic, honestly. If anything, it was even better.After all, what's the true source of all light, warmth, and life itself?That's right. The sun.
I shook off the handful of dead dirt and stood up straight, the villagers still whispering among themselves like they were at a festival waiting for fireworks.
Stretching out my hand, I focused. Slowly, deliberately, I let my magicules flow out, spreading across the barren ground like an invisible mist.But that wasn't all.Nope, I wasn't gonna half-ass this.
I also reached upward with my senses, pulling on the sun's magicules themselves — its pure, searing energy.Yeah, that's right. I could draw strength directly from the sun, and when I did, my magic amplified tenfold, bringing not just light but true vitality to whatever it touched.
True Dragon Magic was something special after all.
Each True Dragon had their own specialty — like Veldanava with his Star Magic, Velgrynd with her Scorch Magic, Velzard with her Frost Magic… and me?
Mine was Sun Magic — everything and anything related to the sun.
Life, warmth, energy, growth — that was my domain.
And today, this dead land was about to remember what it meant to be alive.
The villagers could feel it — hell, even the dirt seemed to shiver in excitement.The land was regaining its fertility, and not just a little patch here and there — no, it was surging back to life like it had been given a second chance, maybe even better than it ever was before.
Karlos, the ever-dramatic daemon that he was, stood by with a proud smile, like a dad watching his kid win first place in a deathmatch.Zalario, as usual, said absolutely nothing — just crossed his arms, his sharp eyes observing everything with that cold, calculating gaze.Typical Zalario behavior: "speak less, judge more."
But Garren?Garren looked like he had just seen the heavens open up and hand him a golden shovel.His jaw was basically on the floor, and the villagers weren't doing any better — stunned into complete, reverent silence as they stared at me like I had just invented farming itself.
I turned towards the stunned crowd, dusting off my hands dramatically."Well, now that the land's blessed," I said, flashing them a cocky smirk, "I wouldn't be surprised if you guys could grow crops in, oh, I don't know... a week?"
The farmers blinked.One of them dropped the hoe he was holding with a loud clunk.Another was already kneeling like I had descended straight from the heavens — which, to be fair, wasn't entirely wrong considering the whole sun magic thing I just pulled off.
Karlos chuckled under his breath, and even Zalario's mouth twitched for half a second.
"Hey, hey now, no need to bow before me or anything," I said awkwardly, waving my hands like some flustered kid caught cheating on a test.
But it was too late.The villagers had already exploded into cheers, laughter, and what could only be described as a very poor attempt at a celebratory dance.Some were crying tears of joy; others were hugging each other like the apocalypse had just been canceled.One old man even kissed the dirt — and I'm pretty sure he swallowed some by accident, judging by the coughing fit that followed.
Garren, my agriculture minister, practically sprinted towards me.He looked like he wanted to hug me, but after a very intense inner battle (that played out on his face in slow motion), he settled for a deep, respectful bow instead.
"Lord Velsun," Garren said, voice thick with emotion, "I don't know how to thank you enough. This... this is a miracle! You've not just blessed the land — you've saved us all!"
Karlos, standing proudly beside me like a smug butler from hell, just nodded approvingly.Zalario, true to character, remained a silent wall of stoicism — although I swear the corner of his mouth twitched again. Twice.
The villagers started chanting my name, and honestly?It was kind of embarrassing but also, yeah, a little satisfying.Who wouldn't want their own fan club after single-handedly saving the farming season?
"So!" I clapped my hands, cutting through the noise. "Now that the land's blessed and all... let's get planting, shall we? Crops don't grow on gratitude alone!"
They roared in agreement and scattered like excited children told school was canceled — grabbing seeds, tools, and anything remotely farm-related.The fields of Solara were about to bloom again — and this time, they were blooming under my sun.
Bidding farewell to the overjoyed villagers, I waved Garren off, telling him to stay and celebrate with the farmers.He looked like he was about to cry again but managed to hold it together with a hearty salute.
Me, Karlos, and Zalario made our way back to the palace, the sun setting behind us like some overdramatic painting.By the time we reached the grand throne room, one of the palace soldiers rushed over, practically tripping over his own feet.
He dropped to one knee, fist thumping his chest in salute."My king," he said, panting slightly, "Minister Belmor requests an audience with you. He says it's regarding the detailed plan you ordered... to deal with the starvation problem in Solara."
I arched an eyebrow.Belmor, huh?Well, when a greedy merchant actually asks for a meeting, you better believe he's got something either brilliant... or suspicious.
"Send him in," I said, plopping myself down onto the throne casually.Karlos just smirked, and Zalario folded his arms silently — probably preparing himself for another round of nonsense.
The soldier bowed again and scampered off to fetch our favorite scheming merchant.
Belmor sauntered into the throne room with his signature greedy smile plastered across his face, like he'd just stumbled across a gold mine in his backyard.He bowed with theatrical flair, then straightened up and began, voice smooth like butter sizzling on a hot pan.
"My lord," he purred, "first, we need to import food immediately from neutral or unaffected regions. I already have contacts in the eastern valleys and the southern trade cities. It won't be cheap—nothing worth doing ever is—but it'll keep the people fed while we work on recovery."
He paused dramatically, making sure the entire room had time to appreciate his genius, before continuing."Second, we offer temporary trade tax exemptions to merchants bringing in agricultural supplies—tools, seeds, fertilizers. That will bring in the necessary goods quickly and in bulk."
"And third," he added with a smirk so proud I thought his face might get stuck that way, "we establish a grain reserve fund—run by yours truly, of course—to ensure we never reach starvation again. With some clever trading and market manipulation—er, I mean stabilization—we'll be self-sufficient within a year."
It was essentially the same plan he'd mentioned in yesterday's meeting, just now in painfully elaborate detail, with diagrams, tables, and what looked suspiciously like a budget that had Belmor Bonus scribbled in the margins.
I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighed, and told one of the soldiers, "Go fetch Prime Minister Darius. He'll need to review this… masterpiece."
The soldier gave a sharp nod and hurried off while Karlos leaned down slightly, whispering with a grin,"Well, lad, at least he's efficient. Greedy, but efficient."
I couldn't even deny it.
Not long after, Darius strode into the throne room, his expression the usual mixture of calm professionalism and constant low-level exhaustion that came with managing a newly conquered kingdom full of weirdos.
He gave a brief bow to me, a side glance at Karlos and Zalario, then turned his attention to Belmor, who was standing proudly beside his mountain of papers like a kid showing off a macaroni art project.
"What's the matter now, Belmor?" Darius asked, voice dry enough to parch a desert.
"My dear Prime Minister," Belmor said with a sweeping gesture, "merely a humble presentation to ensure the prosperity of our glorious Solara!"
Darius snorted quietly. He grabbed the proposal out of Belmor's hands and began skimming through it. His eyes moved fast—one page, two pages, five pages. Then he stopped, sighed heavily, and rubbed his temples.
_______
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