Lazy Salvation An Ocean of Men

Seravelle Continent, Wrath Domain, Solmara, April 16, 2029

Ding–!

Ding—!

"....Richest man alive… hum hum♪"

Ding—!!

"...Richest man humm…♪"

The clouds of war had already swallowed half of the Seravellian continent, and from the most inford to the most ignorant, everyone could feel the tides turning.

And yet, Ashen was here, mining away in his territory, humming a song of his own making with complete ease.

One would think he was being careless, but there was an official reason for his presence in Solmara.

He had been sent as a representative.

Of whom?

The human race.

Cornelia had entrusted him with the most important task: negotiating with the demi-human empire through the group stationed in his territory, since he was the one most familiar with them.

The mission itself could be called a success. After explaining the full scope of his race's grand movent, he requested a non-aggression contract from the empire's higher-ups.

It took them less than two days to respond, after the local delegation used whatever ans they had to contact their imperial capital.

Predictably, they agreed.

They sent the signatures of twenty elders to a contract that stated that if either side breached it, they would be crippled, and if the aggression exceeded a certain threshold of damage, they would die.

Of course, the sa conditions were imposed on the human side, making the contract binding for both parties unless they were willing to see their higher-ups suffer the consequences.

As for joining the campaign, the empire's response was far less enthusiastic.

Ashen got the impression that they did not consider the human side reliable enough to rally their forces behind.

Still, they promised to station their armies along the borders and sortie depending on how the war unfolded.

In short, they were fence-sitting.

Either way, one rather unremarkable detail was that the delegation had decided to return to the empire after hearing the news. To Ashen, however, that detail was anything but unremarkable.

In fact, he had been waiting for it.

From the mont they arrived, he had not dared approach the mithril mine, fearing it might be discovered by whatever unknown detection skills they possessed. But now that they were gone, Ashen decided to restock.

He was certain Alice would appreciate more of the tal for additional weapons, and either way, he liked his pockets full.

DING—!

"Huff… this should be enough."

Ashen looked at the large chunk he had extracted. It was rely one of many already stored within his HourVault.

Now all that remained was to seal the entrance securely, since soon this entire domain would be welcoming almost every powerhouse of the human race.

Who knew what strange skills they might possess? It would not be strange for one of them to pierce the Null tal's protection and discover the mine.

Or worse, wake up the slumbering creature.

Ashen returned to the heart of the city after sealing the mine and summoned his subordinates not long after.

The eting room looked almost unrecognizable compared to the one from before.

What had once been a bare, newly built chamber of stone walls and unpolished floors had beco sothing closer to an actual administrative hall. The table was now carved from dark wood. The chairs matched instead of being whatever could be found and carried in. Lamps hung from the ceiling in neat rows, casting a warm, even light over the room. Maps covered one wall. Shelves lined another. Even the air felt different.

Ashen sat at the head of the table in the sa plain style he always preferred. Around him sat the people who had dragged the territory from a rough settlent into sothing far more formidable.

They were no longer rely surviving.

They were building.

Chief Gavin, the man in charge of construction, looked broader sohow. Or perhaps it was simply that he no longer had the expression of a man forever reacting to crisis after crisis.

Ashen looked around once, then spoke.

"Construction first. Gavin?"

Gavin straightened. "My lord, the outer residential ring is almost complete. We have finalized the stone roads between the main districts, and the second quarry is producing steadily. The bridge over the western channel is also finished." He paused, then added with visible satisfaction, "We can now move heavy materials without stopping the entire district."

Ashen nodded. "Good. Any shortages?"

"Less than before. Stone is stable. Timber is no longer as tight since the lumber team expanded their reach. Iron still fluctuates, but the slters are making use of scrap and secondary ore. With the new furnace hall, we can maintain output instead of constantly chasing it."

The old man's voice carried pride, and for good reason.

The settlent had beco layered. Roads, storage yards, workshops, residential blocks, guard posts, and market lanes were no longer separate efforts barely held together. They were beginning to function like parts of a living body.

Ashen turned slightly. "Trade."

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Chief Darrow smiled as if he had been waiting for his turn since dawn. "Much improved, my lord. The market district has doubled in size, and the new stalls are actually full now. We no longer have only the sa three faces selling the sa four products every week." His smile sharpened. "There are carpets, tools, cured at, cloth, dried fruit, pottery, spare weapon parts, even imported spices. The variety is finally enough that people have started complaining about choice instead of scarcity."

"That's a good complaint," Ashen said.

"It is, my lord."

Ashen's gaze moved on. "Garrison."

Chief Captain Rodrik sat upright, looking sturdier than before, though he still carried that sa air of a man who had been forced to endure too many etings with Sabrina.

"The walls are secure," he said. "Patrol rotation has been reorganized, and the expanded watchtowers now cover the outer roads. We've also ford dedicated response teams for beast incursions, bandit interception, and internal disturbances."

Ashen raised a brow. "Internal disturbances?"

Rodrik grunted. "Drunken brawls, theft, attempts to intimidate traders, the usual."

"And?"

"They've mostly stopped being a problem."

Ashen leaned back slightly. "Mostly?"

Rodrik hesitated. "There are still so fools."

"I hope they're educational, then."

A few people at the table looked away to hide their amusent.

Ashen's attention shifted again. "Next on the agenda. Agriculture."

Aunty Mira bead at once, as if waiting for the opportunity to brag.

"Oh, sonny, we're doing wonderfully."

Her voice had the sa warm rural lilt it always had, but now it carried confidence instead of cautious optimism.

"The farmland has expanded again. We've got new plots for grain, root crops, and vegetables. The livestock pens are stable, the breeding stock is healthy, and the dairy output is better than last season. We've even started rotating crops properly now, so the soil won't wear out too fast."

Ashen nodded. "Pests?"

"Not enough to matter."

"Disease?"

"Barely any."

She lifted a hand and wagged a finger at him. "Though the Saintess did co by and purify an entire stretch of land after so nasty corruption seeped into it. Helped a great deal."

Ashen's expression softened a little. "Good work."

The woman smiled at that, clearly pleased.

He then looked toward the next seat.

The new head of the Inquisition Departnt sat with stiff posture. He was a serious-looking man, likely in his forties, with the kind of eyes that had seen too many things in too many dark places.

Ashen's gaze lingered on him for a mont.

"Chief Inquisitor."

The man cleared his throat. "My lord."

"Report."

The inquisitor drew a asured breath, then opened a thin folder in front of him.

"The cult situation in the territory is becoming negligible."

Ashen's fingers paused lightly on the table.

The man continued, choosing his words carefully. "We have not discovered a major organized cell in weeks. The minor remnants that surface are being eliminated before they can establish themselves. There are still isolated fanatics from ti to ti, but nothing resembling a true foothold."

This topic was always enough to make the room quiet, but the news was good at least.

"The training provided by the Saintess and the cultist culler was… extrely effective. The inquisitorial squads now identify distortion patterns faster, isolate suspicious behavior earlier, and no longer panic when facing irregular abilities."

He shut the folder.

"In practical terms, the territory is becoming sothing very close to a mini Paradise."

Ashen tapped the table once. "Very good." Despite trying to retain his expression, it was clear how pleased he was with the news.

"How are the people under your command? No issues, I hope?"

"They have beco efficient," the inquisitor said, and for the first ti, sothing like lingering disbelief entered his voice. "Very efficient. So of them are a little too eager now. They enjoy hunting cultists."

Ashen blinked once.

"That is… good?"

The man hesitated before uttering. "...It is effective."

Ashen leaned back and exhaled through his nose.

"Fair enough."

He glanced one last ti around the table before speaking last. "As you know, soon a war will be upon us, and I will not be here for you, and neither will most of our military. You should follow the plan we drafted before without faltering."

"Every one of you has proved to that you are worthy of my trust, so I leave the territory that we built with all of our sweat and blood in your hands. Do not disappoint , understood?"

"""Yes, Lord!"""

"Alright, that will be all. Dismissed."

One by one, they began to file out, and the room slowly emptied.

Ashen remained seated for a mont longer, watching the map-covered wall ahead of him.

The territory had massively changed, evolving into almost a miniature kingdom of its own, but unfortunately, he would not be around to enjoy it.

'Soon… they will co.'

The massive armies of humanity would march through here, and by then…

'... I will be joining them.'

⛧ ⛧ ⛧

Seravelle Continent, Wrath Domain, Solmara, June 25, 2029

The ground trembled, just enough that one could feel it through their boots.

A distant rhythm reached them, or a pulse, perhaps.

It was almost akin to a heartbeat belonging to sothing colossal.

Ashen stood atop the western watchtower of Solmara with Braun at his side as countless eyes stared toward the horizon.

At first, it looked like a dark line.

Then the line beca a wall.

Then the wall beca an ocean.

An ocean of n.

Banners fluttered beneath the sumr sun, stretching so far across the plains that the edges disappeared beyond the curve of the world itself. Countless standards rose above the sea of soldiers: noble houses, military divisions, independent legions, rcenary companies, religious orders, and organizations from every corner of human territory.

The sight was enough to leave ordinary people speechless.

They say that numbers ceased to have aning at a certain point, but looking at this magnificent spectacle, Ashen could only disagree.

Because he knew that the erratic beating of his heart was solely due to this outlandish number of soldiers.

Ten thousand was an army.

A hundred thousand was a campaign.

A million was history.

What marched before Solmara surpassed all three.

The First Theater, one of humanity's three great invasion fronts, was a force numbering over one hundred and sixty million soldiers.

Ashen narrowed his eyes.

Even from this distance, he could see the dust cloud trailing behind them.

A continent-spanning scar stretching from one horizon to the other.

Columns advanced in perfect order.

Supply trains followed.

Monster cavalry.

Armored divisions.

Flying formations crossing overhead.

Entire fortification units hauling prefabricated walls and siege platforms.

It was an army so vast that it looked like a moving nation.

Behind him, one of the officers swallowed.

"My Lord..."

Ashen understood his reaction. Most people would struggle to comprehend what they were witnessing.

But the truth was even more absurd.

This wasn't all of humanity's army but rely one theater and one-third of the force mobilized for the campaign.

Across Wrath Domain, two more theaters were advancing through different routes.

The three colossal armies amounted to more than five hundred million soldiers in total.

It was a number so large that it would have sounded ridiculous normally, and yet...

Ashen knew the figure was deceiving.

Because five hundred million soldiers represented less than five percent of humanity's population on Seravelle.

Less than five percent.

The realization was enough to make even him pause. The races of Seravelle had fought for millennia.

Monsters.

Outer Gods.

Corruption.

Domains rising and falling.

Civilizations burning.

Entire nations disappearing overnight.

Humanity had endured all of it. Not only that, they had adapted, multiplied, and expanded.

Ashen's lingering unease started receding in favor of blooming confidence.

It was clear that what marched today was not humanity staking everything on a desperate gamble. This was humanity drawing a sword.

One of many.

Perhaps, what stood before them was a dominion rather than a final stand.

Far ahead, horns echoed across the plains.

The sound rolled over the land like thunder.

One horn.

Then another.

Then hundreds.

Then thousands.

The army began slowing.

Massive formations shifted with practiced precision.

Signal flags rose.

Orders traveled.

Entire divisions adjusted course as if directed by a single mind.

Ashen felt a faint smile form.

"Impressive."

Braun glanced at him.

"You almost sound disappointed."

He snorted.

"I was expecting sothing larger."

Braun genuinely considered whether he was serious for a second there. "Yeah, right…" He shook his head with a smirk.

Below them, Solmara's battalion assembled.

Thousands of soldiers stood ready.

Their banners rose into the air.

Ashen stepped forward, and spines straightened. The soldiers watched him descend from the tower.

Their lord.

Their commander.

The founder of everything behind them.

Ashen mounted his beast and turned toward the approaching theater.

Far ahead, the sea of humanity continued its advance.

Ashen looked toward the endless army stretching across the horizon, then he grinned.

"Well then."

His voice carried across the silent formation.

"Let's go et humanity."