The palace hall was still heavy in Gavin Ward's mind when the glow of the system shimmered before him. He had flipped the first card already, and now the remaining three revealed themselves in a rush. Four prizes in total floated in front of him, each painted with strange symbols.
He blinked. The first card bore a sign he knew all too well — black on yellow, three sharp triangles radiating like danger itself. It was something he had only ever seen in movies from his past life.
The nuclear warning symbol.
Words flashed into the air:
[Congratulations, Your Majesty, you have obtained a 20,000-ton TNT-equivalent atomic bomb.]
[Congratulations, Your Majesty, you have obtained a 50,000-ton TNT-equivalent atomic bomb.]
[Congratulations, Your Majesty, you have obtained a 50 million-ton TNT-equivalent atomic bomb.]
[Congratulations, Your Majesty, you have obtained the complete design drawings for the WWII BF-109 fighter jet.]
"...What the—" Gavin actually swore aloud, unable to hold back. His heart hammered. Three atomic bombs, delivered at once?
For a long moment he just stood there, stunned by the enormity of it. The thought of such weapons in his hands made his scalp prickle. Then his mind began to work again, quickly as ever.
Wait. Did the system say anything about silos? Delivery mechanisms? Without proper bombers or missile launchers, those weapons were little more than oversized relics. The BF-109 fighter jet was a good blueprint, yes, but far too small to carry something as devastating as a nuclear payload.
He exhaled sharply. "So, I've got the bombs but no way to throw them."
Still, the value was undeniable. Even if they couldn't be launched yet, the mere existence of those bombs was enough to serve as the greatest bluff in diplomacy. He could call them his "three hidden cards," his secret arsenal that no kingdom would dare provoke.
One day, when bombers were designed, when his military technology advanced far enough, then the world would know just how sharp those cards could cut. Until then, the nuclear weapons would remain locked away, symbols of power rather than tools.
---
The System Mall Update
Satisfied enough, Gavin turned his attention back to the system's menus.
[Lucky Draw][System Mall][Military Technology Tree][Civil Technology Tree]
The numbers ticked in the corner: (0)(1,821,597)(356241). His kill value remained at 1.82 million — plenty to spend.
"The mall," he said. "Let's see what you have for me today."
[Your Majesty, the system mall can be updated once. Do you wish to proceed?]
"Yes. Update it."
[Updating system mall… please wait one minute.]
Gavin tapped the table as the progress bar filled. Then the new items blinked into existence:
Cement technology — 1,200 points
Twentieth-century professional teacher team (200 members) — 3,000 points
Sherman M1 tank blueprints — 80,000 points
Twenty-first-century top construction engineer team (200 members) — 500,000 points
Browning heavy machine gun blueprints — 1,200 points
Gavin frowned as he scanned them. Cement technology? He already had better. Teacher teams? Useful, but he already had his magical knowledge orb. Sherman tanks? He had T-34s and top research teams; outdated models held little appeal. Browning guns? Obsolete compared to his MG42s.
But the fourth item lit his eyes. A team of two hundred elite modern construction engineers. That was precisely what the Kingdom of Ross lacked most — skilled builders to shape its future. His nation had doubled in territory, cities lay in ruins, and great projects waited. Yes, that was worth every point.
"I'll take the engineers," he declared. The system deducted fifty thousand points.
[The engineer team will arrive in Rose City tomorrow.]
The other items remained. A new prompt appeared:
[Would you like to refresh and synthesize the unused products?]
"Yes. Refresh them."
The icons dissolved and spun, reshaping into something new. When the glow cleared, a single line remained:
[WWI battleship design and construction drawings — 1.2 million points]
---
Ross Looks to the Sea
Gavin's breath caught. "At last… a navy!"
The Kingdom of Ross bordered the sea, but until now its coastline had been dotted with little more than fishing villages and wooden sailboats. With battleship designs, Ross could begin the long, slow work of naval dominance.
He immediately spent the points, his kill value dropping to 581,597.
Of course, reality tempered his excitement. A navy was not a weapon you could conjure in weeks. Ross had no modern ports, no dry docks, no steel shipyards. Building even a single battleship would take a year or more, even with advanced blueprints. But it didn't matter. This was the seed.
The Ross Navy was born that day, not in water, but in plans.
For now, Gavin decided they could outfit a few wooden vessels with cannons and heavy machine guns, enough to show a presence on the waves until the real warships were ready. The seas were quiet for now, but he would not always be so lucky.
---
A Return to Rose City
Nearly a week later, after crossing the conquered lands of the Orc Empire, Lot, and Kiswell, Gavin returned home. The gates of Rose City opened wide for him, and his officers flooded him with reports.
One message in particular caught his ear.
"Tino City has downed a dragon."
He raised an eyebrow. "A dragon? Shot down? Are you serious?"
The messenger nodded nervously.
At first Gavin could hardly believe it. Dragons were symbols of overwhelming might. But then a thought struck him, a name from the past — the Duke of the Golden Lion, a figure tied to dragons.
"Any riders?" he asked immediately.
"Yes, Your Majesty. A dragon knight. He killed several of our soldiers before capture. We've broken his arms and legs; he's bound in the dungeon. His body is crippled, but his mind… seems unstable."
Angelina, his ever-reliable secretary, leaned on the desk beside him and spoke clearly. "I've handled the city's administration in your absence. The dragon knight is alive, but disturbed. Perhaps torture, perhaps madness."
Gavin glanced at her. Angelina had been a pillar, a woman of order and intellect, handling matters of governance with a steady hand. Ya'er, meanwhile, had taken to wandering the construction sites, fascinated by the rise of skyscrapers and machinery, often donning a worker's helmet and vanishing among the builders. He smiled faintly at the thought, then focused again.
"A dragon knight," he murmured. "Crippled or not, that's still a treasure of knowledge. And madness? I have a cure for that."
He turned toward the shadows where a man stood, adjusting his glasses.
"You called for me, Your Majesty?"
The doctor stepped forward, pale as bone, his white coat pristine, his gloved fingers twitching as he pushed gold-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose. His lips curved into a thin, hungry smile.
Gavin's grin was colder still. "Yes. I have a patient for you — a dragon knight. His body broken, his mind unstable. Study him. Learn everything. Dissect if you must."
The doctor's eyes gleamed, alight with the cruel joy of discovery. Giant dragons and their riders — nonhuman powers of immense strength — were about to become specimens under his knife.
For Gavin Ward, three nuclear weapons, a navy-to-be, and a captured dragon knight now formed the pillars of his next age of power.
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