For a few moments, he felt completely drunk on the sudden surge of strength, his heart hammering with a wild, primal exhilaration.
After a few minutes, the dense mana finally settled, circulating smoothly through his newly reinforced body. Raymond could literally feel his blood thrumming with a vibrant, powerful energy inside his veins.
He slowly stood up from the floor, his movements no longer sluggish or weak, and clenched his right fist tightly. The air inside his grip compressed with a sharp, faint pop.
"Damn... this feeling is simply too good," Raymond muttered, his eyes wide and completely full of joy.
He looked down at his hands, feeling an overwhelming urge to test his limits. "It honestly feels like I could punch a literal hole straight through the sky right now."
Of course, having read thousands of progression fantasy stories, Raymond quickly shook his head, calming his racing emotions.
He knew exactly what this feeling was, it was nothing more than an psychological illusion created by the sudden, massive jump from a weak, poisoned human to a 5-Star Bronze Knight. He wasn’t actually strong enough to shatter the sky; he was just vastly stronger than he had been ten minutes ago.
However, as he calmed down, a sudden contradiction struck him. He furrowed his brows, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he addressed the interface.
"System, hold on a minute," Raymond questioned. "Previously, during the initial tutorial, you explicitly stated that my personal attributes and strength multiplier are calculated based on the total population and land mass of my family territory. According to the status panel, I currently have a total population of 1,200 people who are in the barony. If the system multiplier is working correctly, shouldn’tmy strength be significantly higher than a mere 5-Star Bronze Knight? Why did the progression stop there?"
The blue screen flickered, and the system’s cold, mechanical voice echoed inside his mind with an immediate, detailed explanation.
[ Ding! Clarification: The system force multiplier does not operate on raw, empty numbers alone. In order for a population and territory mass to grant the maximum multiplier to the Host, three mandatory sub-factors must be achieved simultaneously: ]
[ 1. The physical land mass must be ecologically healthy and productive.]
[ 2. The local population must possessa high trust, security, and loyalty index toward House Althoff.]
[ 3. The core development sectors (Agriculture, Economy, Military) must meet the baseline tier requirements.]
The text on the screen highlighted his current metrics.
[ Current Status: The Althoff Barony is completely barren, frozen, and agriculturally dead. The 1,200 civilian peasants currently living in the town possess a trust index below 20%, viewing the Host with fear, resentment, and despair. Currently, the only individuals within the entire population who possess a loyalty index above the 60% threshold are the 32 newly converted mercenaries underCaptain Boris. Therefore, the current multiplier has only calculated the military force of those 32 loyal units, limiting your baseline breakthrough to a 5-Star Bronze Rank Knight. ]
Listening to the system’s blunt, mathematical explanation, Raymond was completely speechless for a solid five seconds. He blinked at the screen, a wave of profound realization hitting him.
He had completely misunderstood the cheat. He had foolishly assumed that he could just go out, conquer a bunch of random kingdoms, drag millions of captured peasants inside his borders, and instantly become a god through raw numbers.
He didn’t expect that the systemwas a literal development engine. It didn’t care about empty numbers; it cared about quality.
If the land was dead and the people hated his guts, their numbers were useless to his power. To grow stronger, he technically had to ensure his land was healthy, his people were happy, well-fed, and entirely loyal to his name.
His personal cultivation was literally tied to the successful kingdom-building development of his fief.
"Damn, what a massive hustle," Raymond muttered, rubbing his temples in sudden frustration.
He let out a long sigh, his face twisting into a wry smile. "I guess a free lunch really doesn’tfall from the sky in any universe. You truly have to put in the actual work to build the territory if you want to receive the appropriate power returns."
He walked back toward the edge of his bed, his bare feet stepping across the stone floor. "Well, there’s no point in complaining. At the very least, I don’t have to risk my life traveling to dangerous ancient ruins, fighting mythical monsters, or digging through dark caves to look for hidden treasures just to increase my rank. If the kings ruling the high empires found out about a system that grants legendary strength just for building a wealthy, happy town... they would literally commit mass murder to slip this cheat away from me."
He chuckled softly to himself, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction with his choice.Just then, as his elevated senses sharpened, a truly horrific, foul stench suddenly filled his nostrils.
The odor was so intensely pungent, sour, and downright disgusting that Raymond immediately wrinkled his nose in absolute revulsion, gagging slightly.
"Ugh, what the hell is that smell? Did a stray dog rot under my bed?"
He looked down at his own body to inspect his silk pajamas, and his entire figure froze in absolute horror. He was completely stunned. His hands, his arms, and his chest were entirely covered in a thick, sticky, pitch-black slimy liquid that was currently oozing out from every single pore of his skin. The black tar-like substance was warm, viscous, and was the direct source of the unbearable, suffocating stench filling the entire bedroom.
Raymond instantly realized what it was.
Right... the body purification. This must be the twenty years of alcohol toxins, biological waste, and that nasty Void Water poison that the Divine Mana Heart just aggressively pushed out of my system.
He couldn’t stand the smell for even another second. He scrambled up from the floor, keeping his arms away from his chest to avoid smearing the black slime everywhere, and bolted directly back toward the adjoining bathroom to scrub his skin raw.