After years of silence, life had returned to Jogelsburg.

When Jerusalem's eastern frontier advanced to Count Reynald's lands beyond the Jordan, Jogelsburg lost its purpose. Soldiers were transferred away and its budget cut again and again. Plaster peeled from the weathered walls as the old fortress aged like a forgotten border veteran, slowly crumbling back into the earth.

Guided by the old garrison, the newly arrived armored sergeants explored the castle. Men stripped off their armor, cleared living quarters, and began patching abandoned buildings. Above them, Hans raised Lothar's banner from the tower, the black eagle flying beside the Cross of Jerusalem.

Lothar opened the System's building menu. Apart from the Lord's Hall, every slot was grayed out. He would need to draw Building Cards to unlock them. Glancing through the list: Infantry Barracks, Cavalry Barracks, Skirmisher Barracks, Siege Workshop, Smithy, Tower, Castle, Stables, Harbor. Everything imaginable.

The System chimed: Special item detected — Winged Hussar's Swallowtail Banner. This item can be used to unlock a special building: Winged Hussar Barracks.

Winged Hussar Barracks: Each day, you may train one ordinary cavalryman into the special unit type: Winged Hussar. Training cost per soldier: 50 gold solidi.

Special unit cap by highest held title: Baron: 50. Count: 100. Duke: 150. King: 300. Emperor: 500.

Winged Hussar: An elite heavy cavalryman equipped with a lobster-tailed pot helmet and half-plate armor. They carry hollow fir-wood lances, sabers, broadswords, armor-piercing swords, and war hammers. Across their backs, eagle-wing ornamentation provides protection against strikes from behind and intimidates the enemy. (Due to era correction, the short-barreled firearm originally carried by Winged Hussars has been removed.)

Milestone activated: Winged Hussar Commander — Have at least 50 Winged Hussars under your command [0/50].

"Unlock a building with an item?"

Lothar frowned. By increasing charge speed twenty percent, the Swallowtail Banner could turn an ordinary officer into an exceptional cavalry commander. It was especially valuable against steppe horse archers, allowing heavy cavalry to overtake skirmishing riders during a short sprint. Mobility remained cavalry's greatest weapon in every age. If Lothar ever commanded Jerusalem's mounted forces, the banner could prove devastating against Saladin's Mamluks.

The problem was simple: Lothar possessed no cavalry of his own. If he led the Royal Knights to victory, few would credit their commander. Men would praise the knights or proclaim that the Heavenly Father had given wings to their horses.

After a final hesitation, he made his choice. The banner was rare, but another artifact might replace it someday.

The present mattered more. Only by building strength of his own—even strength that existed mostly on paper—could he exploit the kingdom's coming turmoil.

And that advantage would fuel more milestones, a virtuous cycle. This was why he'd spent so heavily on the armored sergeants: they might not be able to fight yet, but they looked the part. They projected power.

He would not construct the barracks or Lord's Hall in daylight. He had no idea how System construction appeared: perhaps the earth would shake and a completed building emerge from nothing, or spectral laborers would assemble it beam by beam.

In a world with witches, even spontaneous creation could be explained away. But he'd rather do it at night, once everyone was asleep.

---

Lothar entered the three-story keep with Prajna and Fringilla. Though dilapidated, it remained in far better condition than the outer walls. The previous lord had clearly reserved his finest stone for the structure protecting his own life.

The ground-floor hall offered plenty of space. A shield bearing the Jerusalem Cross hung above tables and cabinets that lacked legs or disappeared beneath dust and cobwebs. Dried mud crusted the carpet. Rats scurried along the walls, not in search of food—there was none—but to escape the blazing sun.

"It must have been pleasant in better days." Even Lothar found the reassurance unconvincing.

Fringilla muttered, "How are we supposed to live in this? My lord, let's return to Jerusalem. You cannot expect us to stay in a ruin." When Lothar gave no answer, she tried again. "At least send for the followers' wives to clean the place. Surely you do not mean for a princess of the Blood Court to do menial labor?"

Lothar had already decided to build the Lord's Hall tonight: it would either replace or entirely renovate this keep. So he only said: "Why not? Doesn't blood magic have a cleaning spell or two?"

Fringilla was indignant. "Absolutely not! Blood magic is for killing. Cleaning up blood, perhaps — but dust and rats?"

"I was joking." Lothar reached out and ruffled her soft white hair, his voice indulgent. "Don't worry. I won't make you live in a place like this."

"Ahem."

Prajna coughed once. When the two of them looked over, she turned her gaze away with perfect indifference, treating it as nothing more than a tickle in her throat.

The System chimed: Your Affinity with Fringilla has increased to Amiable. You may now share one of Fringilla's Talents: Hemomancy Mastery or Sanguine Charm. By default, Fringilla gains access to your unique Talent: Two Lives, One Soul.

He had worked toward this threshold for a long time; only the timing had remained uncertain. Smiling, Lothar chose Hemomancy Mastery without hesitation.

Knowledge flooded his mind as pain lanced through his skull. Blood vessels swelled across his eyes, and the world dissolved into crimson lines. Fringilla stood at the center of that bloody universe, the still eye around which every red thread revolved.

Unlike Stonefort, which required active invocation, Hemomancy Mastery was a passive talent: always on, always working.

"What's wrong?"

Prajna frowned. She could sense something different in Lothar now: faint, but enough to register as a threat.

Fringilla realized what was happening at the same moment. "Your Spirit isn't high enough to handle this much blood magic. Release the shared talent. Now!"

Spirit. Of course.

Lothar pulled up his Status Panel and dumped every saved Attribute Point, all three, into SPI.

The red tide receded from his vision. The world snapped back into focus.

His mind was now packed with blood-magic techniques. Blood Surge: accelerate your own blood flow for a burst of speed and strength. Blood Spear: hurl a spear of your own magic-infused blood; when it mixes with an enemy's blood, the contamination triggers a detonation. Bat Form: briefly transform into a vampire bat. Immunity: your vitals are nullified by your blood magic; you are immune to all bleeding effects, and incoming damage can be negated by consuming your own blood.

The deeper magics remained locked: ellipses where his Spirit could not yet reach. But even these few spells were an enormous leap forward.

Prajna studied him with an unreadable gaze, then turned and walked upstairs without a word, leaving his side behind.

Was that jealousy?

The System hadn't reported any Affinity drop. Lothar found himself genuinely uncertain.

An unfamiliar shyness softened Fringilla's face. She excelled at verbal provocation, but beneath the bravado lay far more innocence than her words suggested. The shared Talent had made their new intimacy impossible for her to ignore.

"I'll — I'll go upstairs with the big lump. Look around."

And she was gone, flitting up the stairs like a startled bird. Lothar stood alone in the empty hall, unsure whether to follow or stay put.

---

The next morning.

Leonard stumbled out of bed, rubbing his eyes; and his jaw dropped. His teeth chattered. A strangled, incomprehensible noise leaked from his throat.

"What… what in God's name…"

The keep, yesterday a crumbling, half-derelict husk, now stood taller, prouder, and immaculately renewed: a fortress more imposing than anything that had ever stood on this ground before.