The Glitched Mage-Chapter 70: It’s time to rebuild

Riven stirred.

A gentle warmth seeped into his body, spreading through his limbs like sunlight filtering through the canopy of a dense forest. It was a foreign sensation—soothing, almost comforting—so unlike the raw, consuming power of the abyss that usually coursed through him.

His eyelids fluttered open, his vision hazy at first before sharpening into focus. Above him, Damon stood, his face drawn in deep concentration. A soft green glow radiated from his hands, its energy sinking into Riven's chest like threads of warmth weaving through his body.

Riven's brows furrowed, confusion pressing against the edges of his still-groggy mind. "…What?" His voice was rough, edged with fatigue.

Damon's golden eyes snapped to his, widening in surprise before his entire expression shifted—first to shock, then to pure, unrestrained relief. His lips split into a wide grin, his magic flaring briefly as his excitement momentarily disrupted his focus.

"Ah! You're awake!"

"What happened?" Riven asked, his voice steadier now as his mind fully emerged from the haze of sleep. He pushed himself upright, surprised to find his body no longer aching—the exhaustion that had weighed him down before had lifted almost entirely.

Damon exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck as he reached out to steady Riven. "You've been out for a full week," he said, his tone caught somewhere between exasperation and relief.

Riven's head snapped up, his sharp gaze locking onto Damon. "Seven days?" He repeated, disbelief threading through his voice. His mind churned, racing to process the lost time.

Before he could dwell on it, the flap of the tent was thrown open. A blur of movement followed as his generals poured in, their expressions shifting from disbelief to overwhelming relief the moment their eyes landed on him.

Aria was the first to reach him, her silver eyes glistening as she stood stiffly at his side, the only sign of emotion in the way her fingers twitched at her sides. Krux and Nyx weren't far behind, both of them uncharacteristically silent. Even Mal, usually composed, looked shaken, his piercing gaze scanning Riven as if to reassure himself that their king was truly awake.

The tension in the tent was thick, but for the first time in a long while, it wasn't from fear or uncertainty. It was something else—something heavier.

Relief.

"It seems purifying the land took more out of me than I thought," Riven sighed, rubbing his temples.

Nyx scoffed, though there was something thick in her voice—something almost like relief. "You did the impossible in a matter of moments. What did you expect?"

"You did more than that!" Krux added, his grin wide and full of admiration. "You created some kind of god-touched land! It's only natural you'd feel drained after something like that."

Riven arched a brow. "God-touched?"

The group exchanged knowing glances, their excitement barely contained.

"You need to see it for yourself," Damon said, his golden eyes gleaming.

Without another word, they led him out of the tent. The moment Riven stepped into the open air, he felt it—something in the atmosphere had shifted. The encampment was different from the last time he had seen it. The people moved with renewed energy, their expressions lighter, their postures stronger. As Riven passed, they stepped aside, bowing their heads, their smiles warm and full of something he hadn't seen in a long time.

Hope.

He didn't stop, but the sight left a strange weight in his chest.

They reached the field, and Riven froze.

The land he had reforged was no longer just soil and potential. It had flourished into something surreal. Rows of crops stretched out before him—wheat swaying under an invisible breeze, thick green vines bearing heavy vegetables, baskets already brimming with golden potatoes. Laughter rang through the air as young girls dug up massive roots, giggling as they passed them off to a man who struggled to keep up with the overflowing harvest.

"What…" The words barely formed as he took in the sight. "How is this possible?"

It had only been a week.

And yet, the field was teeming with life.

Mal stepped forward, his silver eyes sharp with understanding. "We knew there would be… anomalies due to the abyssal power," he began carefully. "But what's happening here goes beyond what I predicted."

He crouched, running his fingers through the darkened soil, feeling the energy beneath the surface. "There's a temporal distortion woven into the land," he explained. "Time flows differently here."

Riven's brows furrowed. "Because of the abyss?"

Mal nodded. "It's the only explanation that makes sense. The soil isn't just infused with your power—it's bound to it. And the Abyss… it doesn't follow normal rules. If time moves differently there, it makes sense that it would extend to whatever you've created here."

"That's…" Riven exhaled. "Unbelievable."

"And yet, here it is." Krux chuckled.

"This is already the third harvest this week," Aria added.

Riven's mind reeled. Three harvests? In a single week? This wasn't just fertile land—it was a miracle. If they could expand this, if they could replicate it across the kingdom…

"But," he said, voice leveling, "it's still not enough."

Mal sighed, shaking his head. "No, it's not. Especially with the number of new arrivals each day."

Riven stared at the people tending the fields, their faces alight with something close to joy. For the first time since the fall of the kingdom, they weren't just surviving.

They were living.

An idea began to take shape in his mind.

"If crops grow at this rate," Riven murmured, rubbing his chin, "I wonder if medicinal plants would do the same."

Mal's head snapped toward him, something sparking in his silver eyes. "There's no reason they wouldn't."

Riven nodded slowly. "If we can cultivate medicinal herbs alongside food, we wouldn't just have a self-sustaining supply—we'd have something of value. A trade commodity."

Nyx folded her arms. "Herbs like that would sell fast. There's always demand for good alchemical ingredients."

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"Exactly." Riven's mind was already racing ahead. "But we can't just start trading yet. The Shadow Kingdom has no formal merchant routes, no supply chains. And beyond that…" He gestured to the ruins around them. "No one's going to want to come here when it looks like this."

The group followed his gaze, taking in the crumbling remnants of the once-mighty kingdom. The wasteland stretched far and wide, jagged ruins like broken bones protruding from the earth.

Nyx hummed in agreement. "You're right. Until we can produce excess crops for trade, we need to focus on stabilizing our food supply."

Damon cracked his knuckles, a smirk playing on his lips. "So we're cleaning the place up, huh? About time."

Riven crossed his arms, already formulating the next steps. "We rebuild." His voice was firm, carrying the weight of command. "Krux, Damon—I want you to gather anyone with construction skills. Bricklayers, carpenters, blacksmiths. Start drawing up plans for permanent housing."

Krux nodded sharply. "Understood."

Damon grinned. "You've got something in mind, don't you?"

Riven allowed a smirk to flicker across his lips. "Come to me for the blueprints. I have a specific vision for the kingdom's reconstruction."

Damon clapped his hands together. "Now that I gotta see."

"Nyx," Riven continued, "rally the warriors. We'll need them to transport materials and provide security."

Nyx's golden eyes gleamed with approval. "Consider it done."

"Aria, I need you to take over scouting operations. With our focus on rebuilding, we can't afford to be blind to outside threats. Report anything unusual."

She gave a small nod. "I'll handle it."

Riven turned to Mal last. "You and I are mapping out potential trade routes. Villages, towns, independent merchants—whoever will listen."

Mal smirked. "Looking to open negotiations already?"

Riven's gaze swept over the growing field, the laughing children, the murmuring workers. His people.

"We're not just rebuilding," Riven said, his voice steady, carrying the weight of certainty. "We're going to rise beyond what we once were."

—x—

The large command tent was dimly lit, the flickering glow of lanterns casting elongated shadows against the canvas walls. A long wooden table sat at the center, its surface covered with maps, parchment, and hastily drawn plans. Riven stood at its head, hands braced against the edges, his piercing blue eyes scanning the rough sketches before him.

Krux and Damon sat across from him, their expressions a mix of curiosity and skepticism.

"So," Damon drawled, leaning back with his arms crossed, "what exactly are we looking at here, boss? Because this sure as hell doesn't look like any building I've ever seen."

Krux grunted in agreement. "These… structures. They're taller than anything we've ever built before. And there are multiple dwellings inside each? You're saying this one building houses dozens of people?"

Riven smirked slightly, amused by their confusion. Of course they wouldn't understand—not yet. This world hadn't conceived the idea of apartment buildings, hadn't thought beyond traditional homes or castles. But he had seen it before.

Finally his memories from his previous life were beginning to have some use to him.

"This is the future," he said simply, tapping a finger against the largest blueprint on the table.

The design was intricate, layered with careful detailing—lines and measurements meticulously marked. The buildings stretched upward, with stacked living quarters, reinforced foundations, and communal spaces.

"This," Riven continued, "is how we house our people efficiently. Right now, we're struggling with space, aren't we? Thousands of refugees crammed into tents and makeshift shelters, with no proper infrastructure. Instead of sprawling out across the land, wasting valuable land, we build up."

Damon whistled low. "Tall buildings, multiple families inside, shared spaces… You're saying this is better than separate homes?"

"For the numbers we're working with? Absolutely," Riven said without hesitation. He gestured to another sketch, detailing the internal structure. "This is a five-story residential building. Each floor contains six to eight living quarters, sturdy enough to withstand harsh weather and enemy attacks. Instead of every family fending for themselves in scattered houses, we centralize resources. Shared wells, communal kitchens, storage, even internal heating powered by mana."

Krux frowned slightly, eyes narrowing as he studied the blueprints. "You're suggesting we stack homes. Wouldn't that make them more vulnerable?"

"No," Riven countered. "It makes them stronger. If we reinforce the foundation and use the right materials, these buildings will be sturdier than anything Solis has. Instead of a collection of scattered homes, we create a fortified city. A kingdom of stone and steel, efficient and defensible."

Krux exhaled through his nose, considering. "And how long would it take to build something like this?"

"That's why I called you two here," Riven said. "I need every stonemason, carpenter, and craftsman at our disposal. Damon, with your earth magic, you can shape the foundations faster than traditional methods. Krux, you'll oversee and organise."

Damon scratched his head, looking between the blueprints and Riven. "I'll be real with you, boss. I've never built something like this before. Hell, I don't think anyone in this continent has."

"You'll learn," Riven said simply.

Damon let out a rough chuckle. "That easy, huh?"

Riven smirked. "Nothing worth doing is ever easy." He tapped the blueprint again, his expression unwavering. "But this isn't just about building houses. It's about creating a city that lasts."

Damon exhaled, rubbing his jaw as he leaned in closer to the sketches. "Alright, say we do this. Say we stack these homes and make them as sturdy as you claim. What about the logistics? Materials? Labor? I can reinforce the stone, shape the foundations, but this is going to take a hell of a lot of manpower."

Krux nodded. "And coordination. If we're moving this many resources, we'll need supply lines, proper storage, a system to distribute materials efficiently."

Riven had expected this. He'd anticipated their doubts, their concerns. But he also knew the strength of his people—the sheer will they carried.

"We start small," Riven said, pulling out a second sheet of parchment. This one depicted a simpler structure—only three stories, a prototype of sorts. "This will be the first. A test. We build this, work out the flaws, adjust accordingly. Once we have the method perfected, we scale up."

Krux traced a finger over the lines, nodding slowly. "A test run."

Riven inclined his head. "Exactly. The first building will house key personnel—skilled workers, craftsmen, healers. People essential to the rebuilding effort."

"And once we know it works?" Damon asked.

"Then we expand," Riven said, his tone carrying a certainty that left no room for doubt. "We lay the foundation for a city unlike anything this world has seen."

Damon let out a low whistle, shaking his head. "You don't think small, boss."

"No," Riven agreed, "I don't."

Krux exhaled, still staring at the design as if trying to see past the ink and into the reality Riven envisioned. "If we do this, we'll need more than just manpower. We'll need better tools, better techniques. We'll need to innovate."

Riven nodded. "That's where Mal comes in. With his knowledge of alchemy and runic enhancements, we can reinforce our materials, make the construction process faster. And once we establish trade routes, we can bring in outside resources."

Damon glanced at Riven, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "You're planning long-term."

"Yes," Riven said simply. "This isn't just about survival anymore. We're not just rebuilding—we're reclaiming our future."

The words hung in the air for a moment, the weight of them settling over the table like an unspoken promise.

Krux finally nodded, his expression resolved. "Then let's begin."

Damon grinned, cracking his knuckles. "Damn right."

Riven allowed himself a rare moment of satisfaction. This was only the beginning—but it was a beginning that would change everything.