The 'Extra' Lord - A Plundering Kingdom Building LitRPG

Chapter 15 - On the Hunt



Owen had no time to waste. Although he wasn’t in tip top condition, he pushed it to the wayside and plundered the two corpses Draed and the others had brought one after the other. A sharp stabbing pain shot through his heart as he plundered the last one. It was a small pain to bear to keep his people alive. The added Stats flowing around his body only stemmed that pain slightly.

Gasping for air, almost hunched over in the sand, Owen took in the notifications.

You have fully plundered the Dune Ravager.

| Claimed materials: Summoning Ticket 1x Hunter, Summoning Ticket 1x Warrior, Summoning Ticket 1x Sorcerer, Dune Ravager Pelt x8 (Normal), Dune Ravager Organs x6 (Normal), Dune Ravager Bones x5 (Normal).

| Stats gained: 15 Strength, 17 Vitality, 10 Dexterity.

Ignoring the rest of his rewards for now, Owen immediately placed all of what he could on the market. Once the money started rolling in, he moved onto what he could purchase. And honestly, he didn’t really know where to begin. One, he didn’t know what kind of anti-poison he needed. Two, he didn’t even know if the quality of said potion could even cure her. All he could do was buy what was available to him with his current means.

He purchased an assortment of low-tiered anti-venom, anti-poison, and anti-corruption—some of the only ones on the entire market. Someone must have gotten lucky with finding them, or they had obtained an early Alchemist. Whatever the reason was, he turned to Pyris once the potions appeared in front of him.

Owen fed them all to her. All but one failed—the rare and costly anti-corruption antidote. It was the most expensive of the bunch.

Pyris's eyes fluttered open, and Owen leaned in, hope sparking within him. "Do you understand what I’m saying?"

She nodded weakly.

"Good, that’s good," Owen said, relief evident in his voice. "Don’t worry. I know what you need now. You were corrupted? If you can hang on a while longer, I’ll get a higher tier anti-corruption potion. Do you understand?"

If one comes on the market. But he kept that grim thought to himself.

Again, she managed a faint nod.

"You’ll make it," Owen said gently, placing his hand on hers. "I’ll make sure of it."

"W–" she muttered, struggling to speak. "Why–"

"Why what?" Owen asked, leaning closer. "Why am I healing you?"

She nodded weakly, her eyes barely staying open.

"Why wouldn’t I?" he replied softly.

Only then did she finally fall back asleep, a fragile peace settling over her stunning features.

Seeing her positive reaction, Owen knew he needed more of the anti-corruption potions, and of higher quality, too. And for that, he needed to up the hunting. He needed to get involved personally.

Owen took a deep breath then stood up. A lord can’t rest even for a moment, Owen thought.

He had a lot to do, but first, he started checking to see what was on the market. Currently, it was mostly hide, meat, bones. Owen scrolled and scrolled until he stopped, a feverish smile crawling on his lips. There it was: Lord Iron Fortress. He was selling bones. Owen would have bought them if he didn't desperately need the Credits himself.

Now just the rest of you need to put something on the market, Owen thought, hoping that the others would make it, too.

Thankfully, the sun was now behind the mountain range behind his land, casting his domain in appreciated shade. Now that the immediate crisis with Pyris was over, it was time to summon his new troops. Ripping the tickets, the Hunter was a human with a bow named Roa. And the Warrior was also a human with a sword and shield named Bohar. Both of them were 1-Stars.

Owen placed his full attention on the next ticket. A Sorcerer. Owen rubbed his hands together in anticipation. Mage’s were very rare from what he knew. Each Lord looked after their mage as if they were a treasure. Ripping it, a humanoid appeared.

The 2-Star Orc Sorcerer stood tall with a muscular build and deep green skin marred by battle scars. His fierce, intelligent eyes glowed with mystical light. Clad in rugged, enchanted robes and wielding a staff topped with a pulsing crystal, he exuded both raw power and calm wisdom, hinting at profound knowledge beneath his intimidating exterior. He was named Gorath.

Before he left, all that remained was to designate leaders. Instead of having to micromanage everyone, having someone in charge would make his life so much easier. Especially with the increasing units he obtained.

Builder Brook was in charge of the Builders—of which Owen tasked him with a food storage cellar. Hunter Draed was in charge of the hunting parties, which also consisted of the warriors. That would change in the future when the Lord’s protection expired after the week, but for now, that was how it was.

The Sorcerer—Gorath—well, he just made the orc stay inside the dome for now. Owen had read of a Sorcerer's potent magic, but without knowing how to utilise it in a fight, he thought it best to let him stay until he was certain of his abilities. In defence, Gorath would be vital. He didn’t want to lose him outside on a hunt. Along with Cedric, Owen tasked both of them to attack any monsters using the dome as protection.

In a desert with monsters popping out of the sands, Owen didn’t want his mage to die. He didn’t want any of his people to die.

Owen, with his increased Attributes, leapt onto the back of Shelldon. Draed joined him, offering him a much needed vantage point over the sands. Lome trailed behind.

It was time to earn some money.

As they left the safety of his domain, Draed told Owen of a set of ruins just beyond a dune in the distance. They hadn’t scouted it, but just the sound of ancient civilization brought Owen forwards. He needed to defeat a monster to gain wealth, but a crypt would also do nicely. During Ansel adventures, he had fallen into a crypt within the Cursed Lands. So he knew of the wealth hiding underground. It was somewhere in the desert, but Owen had no idea where that was.

Owen wondered if he’d meet up with the main character soon, but from what he knew of the Cursed Lands, it was huge. Well, if he did manage to run into Ansel, he’d do everything he could to stay away from him. The man was insane and didn’t hide his ambition. Owen didn’t want to follow the maniac into the fire.

Rounding a dune, Owen spotted the ruins his lead hunter had discovered.

The sun beat down mercilessly on the arid expanse as Owen and his team approached the ruins. Shelldon, Owen’s war tortoise, lumbered forward with a slow but determined pace. Owen stood on Shelldon’s back, scanning the horizon for threats. Lome followed on one side, another warrior on the other, while Draed’s bow was always at the ready next to Owen.

The ruins loomed in the distance, a collection of crumbling structures and ancient stone walls. As they neared, the ground trembled beneath their feet. Owen’s heart raced as the tremors intensified. A shadow moved under the sand, and suddenly, a massive sand worm erupted from the earth, its gaping maw lined with rows of razor-sharp teeth.

“Brace yourselves!” Owen shouted.

The sandworm lunged at Shelldon, who sidestepped with surprising agility for his size. The warriors leapt into action, their swords gleaming in the harsh sunlight. Draed nocked an arrow and fired, the projectile embedding itself in the worm’s side. Lome drew his axe, its blade reflecting the sun’s rays and cleaved into the beast's side. The sandworm hissed in pain, but such an attack had little effect.

“Attack its side!” Owen commanded, his voice firm.

The warriors obeyed without hesitation, slashing at the worm’s tough hide. The sand worm, sensing the coordinated assault, swung its massive body, sending one of the warriors—Bohar—flying. He crashed into the sand, clutching his side in pain.

“Damn it,” Draed growled, glancing at the wounded warrior before focusing on the sand worm. He moved with precision, firing arrows that targeted the sand worm’s joints and softer underbelly, his strikes causing the creature to writhe in agony.

“Keep attacking!” Owen yelled from Shelldon’s back, trying to mask his panic.

Lome focused on his axe as it thrummed with magical power. He swung it in a savage arc, landing a powerful blow to the creature’s head, his weapon damaging one of its eyes.

The sandworm roared, thrashing wildly. Shelldon charged forward, Owen and Draed braced for impact as his Spectre rammed his armoured shell into the worm. The harsh impact stunned the beast.

“Focus on its weak points!” Owen commanded, as Lome moved to follow the order, his axe slicing toughened flesh. His strength was obvious as it crashed into the worm.

Draed took the lead, his eyes narrowing. He moved swiftly, his arrows flying with deadly accuracy. He targeted the sand worm’s remaining eye. The creature roared in agony, its body writhing as it burrowed back into the sand, fleeing from the intense pain.

Owen spat. Its Level had to be at least in the 20s. If it wasn’t for his number advantage, the situation would have been much worse.

Breathing heavily, Owen watched as the sand settled. “Is everyone alright?”

“We’re good, Lord,” Draed said, panting from utilising his bow Skills without reservation. “But he’s hurt,” he added, gesturing to the fallen warrior Bohar.

Owen’s heart sank. It was like the horrors back on Earth resurfacing. He had made a mistake, and someone got hurt because of it. “We need to move quickly. The ruins aren’t far.”

But first, Owen quickly slid off the back of his Spectre, took out a health potion, and gave it to the warrior.

“Drink up,” he said, clenching his hands in guilt. Maybe if he had made another decision, a better one, he could have escaped that fight unscathed. He had to do better.

Bohar nodded, and downed the red liquid. He smiled as the warmth sensation took hold of him, relieving him of his wounds and pain.

Leaving, they reached the ruins, the ancient stones casting long shadows in the setting sun. As they explored, a low growl echoed through the crumbling walls. A sand hound, its body covered in jagged, rock-like scales, leapt from the shadows.

“Another one!” Lome shouted, raising his axe.

The sand hound attacked with ferocious speed, its claws slashing through the air. Shelldon swung his massive head, knocking the beast aside. Draed drew his bow again, moving with fluid grace as he engaged the hound from a distance.

Owen shouted commands from atop Shelldon. “Lome, flank it! Warriors, distract it from the front! Draed, keep firing!”

The warriors moved to obey, their swords striking the hound with precision. Draed’s arrows found their mark, piercing the hound’s vulnerable spots. The coordinated efforts of the team began to wear the creature down. Each moment that passed, their teamwork increased in effectiveness.

“Keep pressing it!” Owen urged, his voice shaking. He was afraid to make a mistake, but he pressed on. Regardless of if they were injured, they had to kill the beast.

Lome moved like a lumbering beast, landing blow after blow with incredible strength. The sand hound grew sluggish, its movements slowing. Finally, Lome delivered a powerful strike to the creature’s skull, splitting it open like a watermelon. The beast convulsed, then collapsed in a heap of fur, blood, and sand.

Panting, the group gathered around the fallen beast.

Your subordinates have defeated a Sand Hound x1 (Level 16)

Everyone had received multiple Levels. Owen noticed that all of Lome’s points added straight into Strength. Thanks to his Skill: Stalwart Skeleton, he’d soon be a powerhouse. And then–

You have received a Fragment: Dune Crest’s Veil.

A Fragment?! Owen thought in amazement as it spawned within his Soul.


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