The 'Extra' Lord (Unlimited Plunder) - Chapter 66

Three days had passed since Rehan and the others had left, and the sun was now high in the afternoon sky. Owen had spent the entire time tirelessly overseeing the transformation of the mountain into a stronghold. With the help of his builders, the once-rough interior had become something of a palace carved into the colossal rock.

At the mountain’s entrance, a newly erected wall stood 25 feet tall, curving in a massive semi-circle with thick battlements crowning the top. High up, large holes had been installed in the floor, designed for raining down rocks and hot oil on any would-be attackers. It was a daunting first line of defence, one that felt imposing even to Owen as he inspected it.

Hunters and warriors patrolled the wall during the day, their eyes ever watchful for threats. By night, the entrance was locked down, guarded by hulking stone doors that sealed the mountain’s interior from any intruders. Owen knew there were creatures capable of moving beneath the sand, and by luck alone, none had yet found their way to his domain. The real danger wasn’t just one Sand Stalker discovering them—it was that once they did, more would surely follow, until his entire stronghold was overrun.

Sand Stalkers, Owen thought grimly.

In the book, these monsters were common but deadly, creatures that Ansel had accidentally unleashed when he discovered the first tomb. They swam through sand like fish in water, breeding rapidly and evolving into terrifying variants. Owen knew it was only a matter of time before they emerged. The new walls weren’t just built for aesthetics—they were a safeguard for him and his people against the horrors that lurked in the desert.

Just beyond the walls, he had cleared a large area within the mountain, intended as a welcoming hall of sorts. Two broad staircases on either side led up to the quarters reserved for his generals. To the left of the entrance was a narrow passage that took you deeper, where the barracks for the bulk of his forces were located. This layout would allow for easy access and defence in case of an attack.

The ground floor held a series of workstations, all meticulously crafted to support the various Classes in his growing community. There were alchemy stations, skinning rooms, a brewery, and even a full kitchen designed for Clark, his chef. In all, there were about 15 rooms, waiting to be filled with craftsmen and materials as they came in.

Beneath the main floor, the basement level connected directly to a newly dug-out mine. This tunnel system was spacious and efficiently organised to handle the movement of large supplies. Although Owen wouldn’t be around forever, he had to think ahead for his people. They needed access to resources like rock and metal, and the mine’s design would ensure they could harvest and transport those resources smoothly.

Further below, in the depths of the mountain, Owen had even created a spa room with a chimney that vented the excess heat down into Cindrelle’s forge. Not many had used it yet—most people wanted to avoid more heat in this desert environment—but it was there for those who craved the luxury of a sauna. Owen had tried it himself after it was finished but lasted only five minutes before feeling like he was being cooked alive, despite his enhanced Stats.

It had been an exhausting amount of work, but with little danger on the horizon, Owen figured it was best to focus on building while he had the chance. Cindrelle had been instrumental in these efforts. Together, they had fashioned an enormous container from Sandsteel to store Coo’s milk, which was being produced in absurd quantities due to her bloodline and Star rank. If she lived on Earth, Owen mused, she could probably supply an entire pasture by herself.

In the midst of all this construction, Owen had solved a mounting issue: the lack of proper sanitation. In the basement, he had carved out a crude but functional sewage system. Water in a bucket would wash the waste into a channel, and the remnants of Cindrelle’s forge provided a convenient method for burning it all away.

The desert plains were another story. The triangular castle he had originally constructed now lay abandoned, too costly in manpower and resources to repair. All his focus was now on the mountain, where he and his people had the best chance of survival.

Now, Owen stood in Clark’s kitchen, sampling a new dish he had been working on for the past week. It was a meat dish that used one of Bimpnottin’s new vegetables from his garden. It was a seed found in one of the nearby ruins. It looked exactly like a potato, just that it grew from the sand, instead of soil. It tasted the same, too. 

The dish tasted incredible. His taste buds danced as he held onto Clark’s shoulder. “You’ve outdone yourself, Clark.”

Clark beamed a proud smile. “Crab meat, potato, as you call it, combined with the milk from Coo, and the fresh batch of cheese, would make even the immortals pleased.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Owen said, savouring the taste. “All we need is salt and other seasoning to truly bring out the taste.”

“I’m sure we’ll find something to substitute them with,” said Clark. “We’ve done well so far.”

“Indeed we have.”

“My Lord!” 

A panicked voice belonging to a rushed Warrior arrived. “Rehan has finally arrived!” The Warrior stopped, looking at Owen as if he was some mythological being. Right. That was another thing that had happened. The church. Owen had to design a room for those who wished to worship… him.

He stayed clear of it for the most part, but he had heard that more and more people were joining it. Brook, the builder, was the leader of it.

As soon as the Warrior’s words ended, Owen glanced at the notification he had received from the System at Rehan’s arrival. He and the others had killed two scarlet crabs. But that was it. Thankfully, no one had died. 

Owen rushed out to the meeting room in the centre of his new palace. Rehan and the others were gathering their breaths. As soon as Owen arrived, they all saluted. 

“My Lord,” Rehan exhaled, and revealed his signature playful smile. “A party of six humans are approaching us from the south. but if they keep going, they’ll miss us with their current trajectory. What’s the call? Meet them, or ignore them?” 

Owen paused. The best call of action, the most sensible one, was to ignore them. At least until Owen was confident in the power he held. But at this point, he was certain he was one of the strongest new Lords not just in the Cursed Lands, but the entire Land Between. But that was the problem. He was only a ‘new’ Lord. There existed those that have been here for weeks, months, years. 

It wasn’t too dangerous considering there was a Level cap of 100 that would only be crossed once they entered a Gateway and evolved their Class.

However, with certain Lords all having 7-Star talents and above, with terrifying Lord Emblems that were in no way inferior to Owen’s, that meant that each one of them dwarfed Owen’s current strength. In other words, he still had to be careful despite his firepower at the minute. 

“We’ll meet them,” Owen said after a moment's thought. The others nodded without a single shred of hesitance. They trusted his call, resolutely, unwaveringly. “I know it’s not the smartest decision. But I have friends out there. If there’s even a chance they are alive… I have to risk it.”

“We’d hope you’d do the same for us, my Lord,” Rehan said. 

“Of course I would. How far are they?” 

“A day's travel. They’ll get here by noon tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Owen said. “That gives me time to make a quick detour.”

“A detour, my Lord?” Pyris asked from the side.

“To the north, there’s ruins. Skeleton remains lay below. If there’s a chance these people are powerful, a chance they attack, I need all the power I can get. I’m no longer putting anything to chance.”

Even if I have to force my humanity to take a back seat. 

Without waiting, Owen brought Pyris along to the ruins. The collapsed passageway was a small obstacle as Owen simply plundered the stone, and reinforced the ceiling so that it wouldn’t collapse on them again. 

Walking down the tunnel, Owen couldn’t help but put his hand to his chest. His heart thumped against his ribcage as he thought about what he was going to do. 

Bone worms resurfaced, but now, they proved only to be a nuisance. Owen sliced them all without even looking. Pyris didn’t even have to lift a finger, nor did he want her to. It was a good chance to relieve the burden pressed heavily against his shoulders.

They made it into the main room, where bone remnants poked out of the thin layer of sand. The worms had almost devoured them all. But Owen only needed a fragment to make use of his ability. 

Owen approached, crouching down. The woman—Tess—had the majority of her skeleton remain. Maybe they were leaving her to last. Owen placed his hand on her skull, and hesitated. 

There he was, hesitating once again. But the threats of the Cursed Lands demanded his humanity as currency. And he was willing to spend it, if it meant that his people would live. He glanced up at Pyris. She nodded. “It’s okay,” she said, almost in a whisper. “She will understand.”

Owen returned his gaze to Tess. “Maybe. Maybe not. It’s hypocritical, isn’t it? I summon all of you from another world to fight for me. And yet this is my limit.”

“It’s not the same, my L… Owen. We all signed up for this. Don’t view it like that. In this place, we need to take power when it is offered. She will understand.”

“And if she won’t?” 

“Then we will bear it together.” Pyris crouched next to him, and placed her hand on top of his. 

Owen smiled, his heart fluttered. Was it out of romance, or the fact he could summon a Spectre of a dead woman?

Whatever the cause was, Owen no longer hesitated. He plundered Tess. And he watched in horror as his worst fear reared its ugly head.