The 'Extra' Lord - A Plundering Kingdom Building LitRPG

The chant drummed in her mind like a relentless funeral march. Pyris herself was suspended, floating in that very ocean of blood. The disembodied hands pressed against her wounds, their icy touch penetrating her soul. She fought against them, desperately trying to wriggle free, but she was too weak. They began to pull her under.

“No,” she mumbled. She tried to scream, but all that came out was a pained groan.

As her face submerged under the crimson water, her vision shifted. She found herself standing in the middle of a street, kneeling. In front of her stood an enormous warrior clad in golden armour, wearing an opulent crown made of gold and bone. He was bald, with no eyebrows or facial hair, his purple eyes swirling with fire.

But Pyris's focus was not on the vaguely familiar man, but on the woman lying in front of her. The woman's lower torso had been severed, her entrails and blood scattered across the street. It was her.

Tears fell from Pyris's eyes. “Why?” she asked the man. His only response was to raise his massive, two-handed sword, glowing as if freshly forged in molten fire.

“Why… did you… kill her?” Pyris muttered, fury enveloping her. Her eyes shone like stars in the night sky. “Why did you do any of this?”

“All shall fall. Your planet is just the beginning,” he declared, swinging his weapon down to extinguish her life. Just before it could strike her, the moon turned red. And then the familiar words appeared.

You have been selected to join the Lord's War. To gain a second chance. To earn resounding glory and respect across the universe. Do you wish to accept?

She had said yes. The second chance of the words were like a lit beacon, guiding her to her decision.

The mysterious man looked up in shock, and then everything changed once more. She saw a young man standing over her, his face filled with concern and worry. He was smiling at her, attempting to comfort her. Strangely, it was working.

“You’ll get better. I’m certain of it,” he said, his words innocent, naive, and… true. A hot sensation surged through her body as something within began to eat away at the corruption consuming her.

She fell asleep again, but this time, no more nightmares came to torment her soul. For the first time in what felt like forever, she experienced only peace and quiet and...

“Never forget,” the voices muttered over and over again.

They no longer tormented her. Instead, it was a promise, pure and resolute. She would do as they said.

She would never forget.

After waking up and seeing that the sun was looming high above now, Owen checked in on Pyris who was still in a deep sleep. Her wounds had recovered, for the most part.

So, after making sure she was okay, Owen had some rewards to claim. He took out the colossal skeleton from his storage. Now, he was standing in front of it and was once again reminded of just how small he was. As he hovered his hand over a piece of bone—one of its ribs—he came to the realisation that it was far too big to Plunder all at once. He had to do it in sections.

Starting at its tail end, he took a deep breath, then Plundered it. A quarter of the body vanished and he was blessed with a myriad of System notifications, along with a sudden weakness and nausea that assaulted him. His weak smile of expectation widened to one of elation.

You have plundered a section of a Devil Wyrm (Elite).

| Claimed materials: Summoning Ticket 2x Hunter, Summoning Ticket 2x Builder, Summoning Ticket 1x Farmer, Summoning Ticket 3x Warrior, Devil Wyrm Bones x48 (Normal).

| Stats gained: 7 Strength, 10 Vitality, 8 Dexterity, 6 Magic, 5 Mana.

The points given were a less than he was expecting. Was it because skeletons or corpses that had been dead for a long time granted less? it would make sense... But that wasn’t all.

You have plundered a Fragment.

Fragment: [Armour of Nerzu]

| Tier: Adept

| Type: Armour/Clothing.

| Description: The Armor of Nerzu was created by the legendary blacksmith Nerzu the Unyielding, who dedicated his life to defending his homeland from the Wyrm Monarchs. It is said that this is the first crafted suit of Armour by Nerzu. The armour was imbued with powerful enchantments that not only enhance the wearer's strength and endurance but also grant resistance to fire and poison, the primary weapons of the Wyrms.

| Runes: Devil’s Bane, Fire Resistance, Poison Resistance.

| Evolution Requirement: Prime bone of at least a (Veteran) ranked monster.

I should have the Prime bone, Owen thought in shock as he glanced at the enormous skeleton in his storage. He just had to wait until he could plunder again.

Legs trembling from having Plundered the Devil Wyrm, Owen sat down and inspected the Runes further.

Devil’s Bane: Increases damage against all Dragons and Wyrms by 25%.

Fire Resistance: Increases resistance to fire by 50%

Poison Resistance: Increases resistance to poison by 50%

Owen grinned and summoned his new armour.

The breastplate was a masterpiece, adorned with intricate carvings that depicted the epic battles between men and wyrms. Dark, almost blackened bone formed its base, interwoven with shimmering, iridescent scales that caught the light and reflected it in a mesmerising kaleidoscope of colours. It was both formidable and eerily beautiful. The pauldrons added to its intimidating presence, shaped like the heads of Devil Wyrms with jaws frozen in a perpetual roar. An armoured tunic that stopped just above his knees and engraved bronze greaves tied into the rest.

Honestly, it looked like spartan armour if it was designed for someone hunting dragons.

With a thought, he willed it to don his body, and it listened. In the next second, he was wearing it. Then, after resting a while, he tried moving, jogging, jumping, and attacking. It was seamless, as if he wasn’t wearing armour at all. The plates were light and they hardly made any noise at all. Owen could tell that a lot of thought and expertise had gone into designing such an armour.

Owen couldn’t be any happier. Not only would an Adept Tier armour guarantee his protection against weaker monsters, but the extra resistances of his new defence was a welcome addition.

Evolving the armour would have to come tomorrow, or the day after as he had reached his limits for the day.

Next up, he tore all the Summoning Tickets he had gained from plundering the Wyrm. In a flash of multicoloured lights, 8 people spawned in front of him. 2 Hunters, 2 Builders, 1 Farmer, and 3 more Warriors.

They were an assortment of different races. Some Owen recognized, others he didn’t. Each one bowed, feeling the presence of their Lord. None of them had memories of their past lives, only an unbending will to serve Owen to the best of their abilities. He found it a little sad, but there was nothing he could do about it.

He put them to work immediately.

Owen tasked the Farmer with surveying the land, understanding the sands. He was named Bimpnottin. He was a gnome-like race with large pointed ears and a long beard. System-enhanced Farmers could grow crops even in the most inhospitable places, but they needed seeds. Owen surmised the only thing they could cultivate were the cacti he’d seen dotted around. It was better than nothing. He didn’t want to use the Lord’s Market for buying anything if he could help it. That tax would quickly build up. So, it was better to become self-sufficient sooner rather than later.

Owen then removed the newly acquired armour and offered it to Lome. With him leading the charge with that armour, Owen could practically smell the experience points racking up. However, he had to be careful. If the Fragment was destroyed, it would be gone forever, just another speck in the sand. But it was a worthwhile risk. Gaining more units was of utmost importance, especially with a potential enemy right on their doorstep.

He warned the Warriors and Scouts not to venture too far, as per Draed’s advice, and watched them leave under his command.

Owen sighed. Because of his orders, one of them might not make it back. All of them might die. He couldn’t help but bite his lip as his newly summoned units vanished into the haze of the horizon.

Being a Lord sucked...

Four hours passed, and he busied himself helping the builders with whatever they needed. The workers seemed shocked that he was physically helping them, but Owen felt it was what he should do. He was potentially sending people to their deaths for his own gain; the least he could do was get his hands dirty.

Notifications piled in. Lome and the other Hunters and Warriors were killing monsters at a rapid pace. No doubt Lome was responsible for most of it. With the weaker units on the back of Shelldon, and Lome on the ground, Owen felt bad for anything that met them.

A while later, appearing in the distance, Lome and his unit returned battered and bruised. Elation overcome Owen. No one had died. Owen called for Gorath, and together they dealt with their wounds as best they could with the limited medical supplies Owen had on hand.

After that was done, Owen inspected the profits of his people’s hard work.

Your subordinates have defeated a Dune Ravager x6 (Level 14, Level 13...)

Your subordinates have defeated a Desert Hound x3 (Level 12, Level 16...)

| You have reached Level 20.

In just a few hours, he had jumped from Level 15 to 20. All five of the points he earned went straight into Vitality, boosting his endurance for Plunder. The thought excited him—how quickly would he level with even more units under his command? He knew progress would slow after Level 20, but for now, the momentum was exhilarating. Speaking of—

Your subordinates have gathered Summoning Tickets.

| Builder x1, Alchemist x1.

Alchemist? Owen thought, eyes widening in surprise. A rare profession was always more than welcome within his territory. He just hoped it was a high star one. To gain the tickets, he’d have to wait until his party returned. It didn’t take much longer.

After spending a while making sure the rest of them were okay, Owen took out the tickets from his System and tore them open.

The Builder ticket revealed a 1-Star unit.

Well, at least it’s something, Owen thought. His warriors had bled for it. He wouldn't complain.

Taking a breath, Owen then ripped the Alchemist Unit Ticket. Iridescent colours lit up his vision, and then it landed.

Owen’s lips twitched.