Once Matthias had finished basking in his good deed for the day, he finally slowed enough to notice the world around him.

  And that was when the confusion set in.

  The land beyond his swamp was… empty. Not ruined. Not poisoned. Just quiet, dull, and waiting in a way that made his thoughts itch. With a quick flex of his will, he withdrew from the surface and reappeared in his core room.

  "Lucy, Chloe," he called. "Quick question. Are we just… in a bad area or something?"

  "What do you mean?" Lucy asked as both fairies settled onto his shoulders.

  Matthias lowered himself onto the bench beneath the willow tree, gaze unfocused as he searched for the right framing. "I mean—why is everything outside so barren?"

  Chloe blinked. "What do you mean? Dungeons are a source of all life. It was already strange there was a swamp here at all. It must have been a remnant from a clash between two dungeons."

  Matthias stilled. "Wait. You’re saying that outside a dungeon’s range, the land is just… empty?"

  "Unless someone is actively pumping vast amounts of mana into the environment," Lucy said carefully.

  "So life doesn’t just spread," Matthias said. Not a question. "There aren’t fields of grass. Forests that grow because no one told them not to."

  "Unless it’s the site of a major battle where enormous amounts of mana were released," Chloe confirmed. "Most land is barren."

  Matthias sat with that.

  He didn’t like it.

  "I can feel the worry through the bond," Lucy said softly. "Why does this trouble you so much?"

  "Because it shouldn’t work like that," Matthias replied. His tone was calm, but his hands had curled slightly. "Life shouldn’t need permission. If there’s water and decent soil, plants grow. Even deserts have life where I’m from."

  Lucy’s wings twitched. "Your world… just produced plants? Even where no one was there to see them?"

  "Plants were older than people," Matthias said. "Older than cities. Older than history."

  He exhaled.

  "If land dies without mana, then most food comes from dungeons," he continued. "That’s not just inefficient. That’s dangerous."

  "If the war escalates or drags on," Lucy said slowly, "food scarcity could become severe. Though most dungeons eventually establish wildlife buffers, and powerful mages can sustain farms."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "How does this world even function?" Matthias muttered. Then, after a beat, he sighed. "…Guess that means I’ll have to fix it."

  "Fix it?" Chloe echoed.

  "Cover it," Matthias said, nodding to himself. "Life. Everywhere."

  "That would be quite the sight," Serenia said as she appeared beside him, folding herself neatly onto the bench. "This world is sick. I can feel it beyond your borders. Something presses down on new growth. The soil isn’t dead—something simply doesn’t want change."

  Matthias looked at his hands. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then he closed them into fists.

  He set the fairies down, focus already shifting, and returned to the surface.

  Once there, the noise faded.

  Directions sorted themselves out without conscious effort. Ocean to the east—no proof, the compass spun uselessly, but it felt right. Town to the north. Xalt had come from the south. To the west, empty land rolling toward distant hills. The river cut cleanly through it all, feeding his swamp.

  Mirehold lay just beyond his weaker influence.

  He started with a road.

  Stone aligned itself beneath his feet, straight and purposeful. He modeled it after half-remembered Roman designs—layered, crowned, durable. Four carts wide at minimum. He adjusted grades, corrected angles, reinforced weak points. He lost track of time.

  Trees came next.

  Not decorative clusters—systems. Fruiting canopies interwoven with vines. Root vegetables beneath. Berry bushes filling gaps. Fungi threaded through soil where they belonged. Animals followed naturally: rodents, birds, predators to keep balance. He adjusted ratios until the forest felt right.

  Moist ground beyond the swamp became rice paddies. Water levels tuned. Nutrient flow corrected. Fish, insects, ducks introduced in numbers that would sustain themselves. The instruction was simple.

  Live.

  Spread.

  He walked as he worked, extending the road toward the coast, correcting width without breaking stride. When he reached the shoreline, irritation flickered.

  No dock.

  That wouldn’t do.

  Stone, wood, rope, storage. Warehouses first, then boats. Nets. Crates. A pier long enough that people wouldn’t crowd each other. It needed to be used, not admired. He cluttered it until it felt honest.

  Then the ocean.

  Life multiplied outward in quiet abundance. Coral, kelp, shellfish, things that filtered, things that fed others. He didn’t catalog. He adjusted. He refined. He let it run.

  Only then did he notice the sound of someone running.

  Greg came into view at a full sprint, boots pounding stone.

  When he reached Matthias, he bent over, gasping. "I took an office job so I wouldn’t have to run this much."

  Matthias laughed, clapped him on the back, and eased stamina back into his muscles with a simple spell.

  "There, there," he said cheerfully. "You survived."

  "Barely," Greg said, straightening. "Townsfolk are nervous. Something about a weird man building roads with his mind."

  Matthias pointed at himself. "That sounds rude."

  "Capital mages who do that sort of thing are usually level two hundred or higher," Greg said. "You look like one of those dungeon Envoys."

  "Oh." Matthias considered that, then extended his hand—and casually grew until he matched Greg’s height. "Matthias. Dungeon core. This is my avatar."

  Greg shook his hand without hesitation and tried to crush it. Matthias matched the pressure exactly, grinning.

  "Didn’t think you were strong enough to walk around yet," Greg said. "Not unless a lot of people died."

  "Have you seen the turtles?" Matthias asked. "My economy runs on them."

  They laughed.

  "So what’s all this for?" Greg asked, gesturing broadly. "Looks nice, but you don’t do things without a reason."

  "Oh, it’s all edible," Matthias said easily. "Food’s a logistics nightmare I hear. I wanted to help. You can all go ahead and hunt, gather, or fish—whatever you like."

  "You built a dock just for fishing?"

  Matthias grinned as he snapped his fingers.

  A tuna launched out of the water and slammed into Greg’s chest. Greg caught it on reflex, eyes wide and grinning. Matthias swore he could see a bit of drool.

  "Oh!"

  "Oh indeed," Matthias said, smiling.