The 'Extra' Lord (Unlimited Plunder) - Chapter 76

Four days had passed, and Owen was seated with the rest of his team—and a few extra he had become friends with.

Cruz was one of the newest additions to the castle. He had stumbled upon it with his own team, although they had lost the majority of them to the monsters lurking in the deep sands. He was a tall man, bald, and incredibly strong. Because of his thick muscles, Media might have led others to believe he was a fearsome warrior, but he wasn’t. He was an archer. An artillery archer, to be exact. To be effective, he had to plant his feet into the ground. He couldn’t move like Draed could. And in that regard, his bow also mimicked his style. It was huge, hulking, and appeared unwieldy to Owen. Yet Cruz displayed its effectiveness atop the battlements with crazy precision.

Along with Cruz, were two of his party members: Natalia and Shivam.

Shivam was another ranged user, but he used a strange weapon Owen had never seen before. It was a ring quadruple the size of a standard frisbee. It always returned to his hands when thrown, like a magnet was attached to his palm. Maybe there was. With long brown hair, bronze skin, sharp facial features making a handsome face and protective leather armour, Shivam seemed almost used to the hot climate. That, and the fact his English wasn’t perfect, told Owen he was of Indian descent. Well, it was all made clear when Shivam told him directly, but still, Owen liked to figure things out on his own.

Natalia on the other hand was american. Blonde hair, presumably dyed because of her darker eyebrows, and a normal face, she wore armour just like Shivam. She was a healer. 

They met on the third day and kicked it off really well. They weren’t happy with Larian's approach to leadership, struggling to find the inconsistent logic in his actions. Owen agreed. He also noticed a few other things during his time.

The first and most important was that no matter how much they scoured the castle and its surroundings, they couldn’t find a gateway. If there was one, they’d have found it already. 

Justin did however, discover a hidden room that was used as the real station of alchemy. But Justin couldn’t get in. There was some potent magic tied to the room that not even Justin dared to try getting through. He did get a look into the keyhole, though. There was no gateway. When he looked, there was no alchemist. It was also heavily guarded. He only had a moment to look before the guards would be onto him like hellhounds.

Other than that, Owen noticed a few peculiar things happen. Some of the summoned warriors—Larian’s Units—begin to vanish. The founders; Hassan, Jonah, Doyles, and Hannah, also started making their presence less available. They were off somewhere, doing… something.

“How long are you here for, exactly?” Cruz asked, patting his lips with a clean cloth. Well, as clean as they come, anyway.

Owen stirred from his thoughts. “Not long. Another day, perhaps. The serpents have lessened considerably. With their reduced numbers, and with these walls, I doubt there will be any problems for the foreseeable future. And I need to get home.”

“Mind if we join you?” 

At Cruz’s words, Natalia and Shivam rose from their bowls of stew, giving him expectant looks.

Owen chuckled, slapping Cruz’s arm. “Doubt my Lord will say no to more men. Of course, you’re welcome.”

“Good,” Cruz said, gently tapping the table. “Good. This place gives me the creeps. Like there’s always someone, or thing, watching.”

“I know what you mean,” he replied. “Every kingdom has its spies, I suppose.”

Cruz shook his head. “This is different. Feels like there’s a blade aimed at my neck and I can’t shake it for whatever reason.”

“Is it your premonition ability?” Owen asked, spooning a portion of stew into his mouth. The meat was tough, the soup a little sour, but it filled his stomach. With his vitality right now, even if the meat was rotten, it’d have no effect on him. Bar the wretched taste, obviously. 

“Must be,” Cruz said. “Works only sometimes. But ever since I’ve entered these walls, it’s been bothering me ever since. Must just be the low Mastery.”

“Could be. Don’t let it bother you too much. If we’re together, I doubt anyone can stop us from leaving; even if they wanted to.” 

Owen made no attempt at hiding his words. Everyone in the castle had seen them fight, and although Owen hid most of his strength and abilities, there was one common consensus throughout. Don’t mess with Owen, or his people. 

“I hope you’re not lying about the cheese,” Shivam spoke up. “I like cheese.”

“Natalia perked up, eyes shining. “And I like milk! Oh man, milk. I want a cup full when I get there. I’ll even trade a Fragment for it.”

Owen laughed. “No need for that, Natalia. My Lord’s a generous man. You want one cup? He’ll give you two.”

Natalia’s eyes sparkled even brighter.

“And those fruits,” added Cruz, licking his lips. “They sound bloody delicious.”

Owen nodded, imagining it. “Right now, I bet Bimpnottin’s already made something new and incredible.”

At the thought of home, Owen’s heart tightened. When he closed his eyes, he could almost see them—Bimpnottin, Coo, Bubbles, everyone. Their smiles, their laughter, even their squabbles, so familiar they brought an easy smile to his face.

After dinner, the group drifted out of the main hall and into the streets, talking about life before this strange adventure. But, oddly, Owen found himself struggling. It wasn’t embarrassment holding him back, or a lack of words. Just…there was nothing to tell. His old life had been so small. A blur of commutes, long work hours, and barely enough time at home to eat or shower before collapsing into bed to start over.

Cruz gave his back a hearty pat. “Look at you now.”

Owen smirked. “Yeah.” As they reached the battlements, though, they weren’t alone. Lord Larian and the other founders stood along the wall, gazing into the night.

“Lord Larian,” Owen greeted, not bothering to bow his head. “A nice night, don’t you think?”

Larian nodded. “Indeed.”

Owen and the others moved closer. “I was thinking of leaving tomorrow. The serpents have dwindled. I hope that’s alright?”

“Yes,” replied Larian. “Perfect timing, actually. Thank you, Owen, and all of you. I understand our newest allies will be leaving as well?”

Cruz stepped forward. “Yes. Thank you for the shelter these past weeks. We won’t forget it.”

Larian’s lips formed a faint smile. “I’m glad we could provide refuge in this dangerous world. I trust your rewards were worth it?”

Owen nodded. “My Lord will be pleased.”

“Good,” Larian said, “that’s good.”

Owen’s heart clenched abruptly. He felt it through his System—a warrior down, and then another, then another. His eyes snapped toward his own territory. They were under attack. His mind raced as he took in the speed of the deaths. By the time he got back, his people would be…

Think. Shit! Owen took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay focused. After a single heartbeat, his eyes blazed open. Activating Overpower, he pulled every ounce of strength from his body. His limbs protested under the surge, but he moved in a blur, sword swinging with blinding speed. Not even Larian had time to react as Owen's blade didn’t go for his throat, but Jonah’s.

The unsuspecting Jonah, who always stayed at the back, playing the weak one. Everyone froze, stunned. Why had Owen just attacked?

Jonah looked at him, wide-eyed, a hand going to his neck as blood seeped between his fingers. His head slid off, crashing to the ground with a sickening thud.

You have defeated a Lord Candidate: Jonah Preston (Level 35).
| You have gained a Lord’s territory!
| You have gained a Lord’s Units!

Owen’s pulse hammered. In seconds, over forty new units filled his storage, ready to defend his own kingdom. Ignoring the shock-stricken Larian and the founders brandishing their weapons, Owen’s focus remained on his System. The deaths had stopped.

Owen exhaled in relief. Just as I suspected.

Beside him, Justin conjured a ring of shadowy lances, each aimed at the founders’ throats and spines. If they made a move, they’d be skewered in an instant. The founders stood paralyzed, clutching their weapons.

“What the hell’s going on?” Justin asked, curious.

Owen let out a humourless laugh, his rage simmering beneath. “It was a setup,” he said, gaze piercing the founders. “They weren’t looking for people to help. They were scouting land. The serpents? They were sending them daily, controlling their numbers with drugs, bleeding us dry. Meanwhile, they sent forces bit by bit to amass near my territory.”

Justin’s expression darkened, shadows pooling ominously at his feet.

Owen pointed to Larian. “Larian’s just a figurehead. Jonah was the real Lord, the mastermind meant to slip away if things went south.”

“What made you so sure?” Hannah yelled, veins bulging.

Owen shook his head. “I wasn’t. It was a hunch. A gamble, based on a few hints.”

Hannah’s voice shook. “And you killed him just on a hunch?”

Owen ignored her, crouching over Jonah’s body and Plundering without hesitation. Several Skills—puppet control, alchemy—transferred to his System. Not ones he needed, but valuable for his units. His focus, though, was on the Emblem that appeared. It was a good one.

Owen’s eyes met Hannah’s and the others’. “If it’s my people or others, I’ll choose mine. Every time.”

Hannah’s voice was taut. “What’ll you do with us?”

Blood for blood. Owen glanced at Justin. “Kill them all.”

Hassan raised a hand in panic. “Owen, wait—”

But Justin’s lances struck before he could finish. Owen looked away as the spears impaled them all in an instant.

He opened his System. It was time to see what he’d gained.