Ravenna woke to the blazing heat of the desert sun streaming through the open window of her bedroom. Even dressed in an almost sheer, loose-fitting nightgown that clung to her skin, the relentless heat of Jola Island was inescapable. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she fanned herself lightly as her maids bustled around to help her prepare for the day.
Once ready, Ravenna inspected her reflection in the tall, polished mirror. She wore a sleeveless crop top crafted from airy, breathable silk, the fabric light enough to keep her cool while retaining a touch of regal sophistication. Intricate embroidery, interwoven with fine golden threads, shimmered under the room’s soft light, accentuating the deep royal purple of the garment. The color was a striking contrast to her midnight-black hair, which cascaded in loose waves down her back. She paired the top with a high-waisted maxi skirt that flowed elegantly around her legs, its soft folds swaying with every movement. Subtle side slits in the skirt added a hint of daring practicality, allowing her both freedom of movement and an understated allure.
Today marked three weeks since Ravenna had found herself in this unfamiliar world—and two weeks since she’d arrived on Jola Island. According to Light’s Conquest's narrative, Eugene and Prince William would soon be embroiled in a new crisis. That meant, for now, she had a window of time where they would be too preoccupied to interfere with her plans.
Still, she couldn’t delay much longer. Hiding behind the guise of illness had bought her some time to assess her situation, but it was no longer viable. Sooner or later, William would learn that she was alive and well. When that happened, he would undoubtedly redirect his focus to eliminate her from his path. However, Ravenna was resolute—she would not remain a passive player in this story waiting to be slaughtered. It was time to act.
After a quick breakfast, Ravenna strode confidently to the castle’s entrance near the stables. The intense sunlight reflected off the white stone walls, making the air shimmer. Her knights, stationed at the gates, stiffened as soon as she approached. They bowed deeply, their postures rigid under her sharp, commanding gaze. With her piercing eyes and natural air of authority, Ravenna had a reputation for looking both captivatingly beautiful and dangerously unapproachable—a combination that earned her the nickname “Seductive Demon” among her subjects.
Her eyes fixed on Vice Captain John, and with a voice as firm as steel, she commanded, “Get the carriage ready. I want to see the current state of the city.”
John saluted sharply and sprinted to carry out her orders. Watching him hurry away, Ravenna sighed inwardly. My villainous appearance really works wonders, she thought, almost amused. She was as beautiful as a model, but her intense glare often made her seem like a creature born to intimidate. It wasn’t something she was very fond of, but she had learned to use it to her advantage.
Within minutes, the carriage arrived, a polished vehicle adorned with modest embellishments that reflected both her rank and the imperial prestige. Ravenna stepped in gracefully, settling into the plush interior as her knights formed a protective formation around the carriage.
As the wheels began to turn, Ravenna’s thoughts drifted to the progress Hughes had reported. He and several knights were down at the docks, coordinating with fishermen and laborers to haul soil from the seabed onto dry land. If successful, the seabed soil might serve as a foundation for cultivating potatoes and other hardy crops, providing a much-needed solution to the island’s food crisis.
The streets of Jola bustled with energy as the carriage moved through the city. Ravenna noticed the change immediately. Where there had once been hollow-eyed citizens dragging their feet, there was now life and movement. Men, women, and children stood at the edges of the road, their faces brighter than she remembered. They bowed low or fell to their knees as her carriage passed, their gratitude palpable.
Ravenna gazed out at them, momentarily unsure how to respond. She was about to tell them to rise—it seemed unnecessary to bow so deeply—when suddenly, a translucent notification screen appeared in front of her.
[Reputation Points System]
The points kept stacking, line after line, as her carriage moved forward. She raised an eyebrow in surprise. Reputation points? she thought, the corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. If merely riding through the city could garner so many points, perhaps she should make a habit of dramatic appearances. It seemed like an easy way to build her reputation and strengthen her influence to stack more points.
The carriage finally reached the southern region of the city, where smoke rose in thin wisps from a large noble estate. Ravenna recognized it immediately—Hughes had mentioned that the blacksmiths had repurposed the estate into a workshop to build equipment for transporting seabed soil. The smoke was likely from their furnaces, working tirelessly to produce the mud cages and other tools required for the farming initiative.
As they drew closer, Ravenna noticed a small patch of greenery near the estate. The sight of it made her heart skip a beat. The experimental potato plants were growing in neat rows, their verdant leaves a stark contrast to the surrounding arid land. It wasn’t much yet, but it was a symbol of hope—a sign that her gamble might just pay off.
She stepped out of the carriage, her gaze fixed on the greenery, and a rare smile tugged at her lips. This is only the beginning, she thought. If we can make this work, we’ll turn this island into a place where no one has to kneel for food ever again.
Her attention shifted to the crowd gathered nearby. Long lines of Citizens stood patiently outside makeshift food distribution counters, each waiting their turn for a steaming bowl of porridge. This estate, previously a grandiose noble’s residence, now served a nobler purpose—feeding the people. Men, women, and children held bowls in anticipation, their expressions a mixture of hunger and gratitude.
Ravenna noticed how focused the Citizens were. None had even glanced in her direction, their eyes fixed on the lifeline of food before them. For a brief moment, she considered simply walking past the crowd to inspect the blacksmiths working in the backyard. After all, that was her original purpose here. But then a sly thought crossed her mind.
How can I let such an easy opportunity to gain reputation points slip away?
“John,” she called sharply, her piercing gaze landing on the vice knight captain. “Why don’t these peasants recognize my imperial carriage or, more importantly, me?”
John, already nervous from her intimidating presence, visibly gulped before responding. “Your Highness, how could they possibly fail to acknowledge your regal and dazzling appearance? It must be the dusty air obscuring their vision! Allow me to rectify this insult immediately!”
Before she could reply, John and a group of knights hurried toward the distribution counters. With loud, authoritative voices, they announced, “Her Royal Highness, Princess Ravenna, has arrived!” Their voices carried over the murmuring crowd like thunder rolling through the desert sky. The remaining knights stationed around the estate bowed deeply, signaling the people to follow suit.
The Citizens, startled by the sudden commotion, turned toward Ravenna. Realizing her presence, they quickly dropped to one knee, their heads bowed low. For most of them, this was the first time they had seen the princess in person. Word had already spread of her generosity—of how she had brought stability and food to the island during a time of desperate hunger. Many had felt gratitude toward her even before this moment. Now, seeing her regal figure in person, their awe multiplied.
Standing tall amidst the reverent silence, Ravenna’s lips curled into a small, condescending smile. Her piercing gaze swept across the kneeling crowd like a raven surveying its prey. “My, my,” she said, her voice cool yet cutting. “I had thought all peasants were tasteless, mannerless hoglings. It seems I was mistaken. The people of Jola Island, at least, have a semblance of gratitude.”
Her words, delivered with an air of superiority, sent a ripple through the crowd. Some of the Citizens trembled under her glare, while others looked on with a mixture of fear and admiration. Her beauty, both dazzling and menacing, left an impression that would not be forgotten.
As the Citizens remained in their humbled poses, a familiar notification panel appeared in Ravenna’s vision.
[Reputation Points System]
Satisfied, Ravenna raised her hand in a dismissive wave. “Return to your tasks,” she commanded, her tone dismissive yet laced with authority. “Do not waste time lingering.”
The Citizens quickly obeyed, resuming their positions in line or tending to their bowls of porridge. As the crowd dispersed, Ravenna turned and made her way toward the backyard of the estate. The clang of hammers and the hiss of steam greeted her as she approached the blacksmiths’ workshop.
In this once-grand noble estate, now a center of industry, the blacksmiths were hard at work. Smoke rose in thick plumes from several forges, and the air vibrated with the rhythmic pounding of metal. Craftsmen toiled tirelessly, shaping mud cages and other tools essential for harvesting the seabed soil that was giving new life to the island.
Ravenna’s steps were deliberate and slow, each one echoing her calculated authority. Her black hair shimmered under the harsh desert sun, her embroidered royal garments flowing like liquid silk as she moved. The knights followed closely, ensuring no one dared approach her without permission.
Read 12+ Advance Chapters by becoming a Patron : 8. Jola’s Progress