Ruho headed to the battle plan room on the third floor, his bare feet padding against the cold stone. The room was tucked away at the end of a hallway, behind a heavy wooden door that opened with a satisfying creak.
It was smaller than the grand rooms below, maybe three hundred square feet, rectangular in shape. The ceiling was lower here too, maybe eight feet instead of the soaring heights of the entrance hall and great hall. The lighting was dim, provided by what looked like oil lamps mounted on the walls, except they burned with steady magical flames that never flickered or smoked.
In the center of the room stood a massive circular table, easily twelve feet in diameter, made from dark wood that had been polished to a mirror shine. Ten high-backed chairs surrounded it, each one positioned perfectly for viewing the table's surface. The chairs looked medieval but comfortable, with cushioned seats and armrests carved with military symbols—crossed swords, shields, battle axes.
But the table itself was what caught Ruho's attention.
The entire surface was covered by a detailed map of the island. Not painted on, not a paper map laid flat, but somehow embedded into the wood itself—or maybe projected onto it through magic. The island was rendered in incredible detail, showing coastlines, forests, rivers, mountains, the plateau where his castle sat. It was shaped like a sickle, or maybe a crescent moon, but very irregular—the coastline jagged and broken, the interior full of valleys and ridges that created complex terrain.
Ruho leaned over the table, studying the map. "This is really detailed," he said, running his finger along what appeared to be a river system. "Is there a height map? I need to see elevation."
The map immediately responded to his words, the flat surface suddenly becoming three-dimensional. Mountains rose up from the table, valleys sank down, the plateau where his castle stood jutted upward like a pillar. It was like looking at a physical model of the island, except made of light and magic instead of clay and paint.
Ruho circled the table, examining the topography from different angles. He was in the north of the island, he could see that now. His plateau was clearly marked with a tiny castle icon. But when he tried to zoom in to see more detail, he realized the scale was still too large. The island was so massive that even this detailed map couldn't show everything. His plateau was just a small bump on the northern section.
"I can't even see the plateau properly," he muttered. "The island's too big. I need to zoom in more."
He looked at the southern coast where the pirates had landed. It was tiny on this scale, just a small section of beach. He could see the two ship icons that Azirel had added, but no details about what the pirates were actually doing.
"Azirel," Ruho said. "Can you give me a real-time feed? Show me what's happening at the pirate camp?"
"Nuh uh," Azirel said immediately.
Ruho blinked. "What the fuck do you mean 'nuh uh'?"
"I mean nuh uh," Azirel repeated. "I'm not giving you free real-time surveillance of your entire island. That's premium divine service. You want that level of support, you gotta pay for it."
"PAY?!" Ruho's voice rose. "How am I supposed to pay you?! I don't have money! I don't have anything!"
"Not money," Azirel said, and Ruho could hear the grin in his voice. "Prayer. You pray to me every week for the next month. Four prayers total. Proper prayers too, not just 'hey Azirel what's up.' Genuine worship, gratitude, the whole devotional package."
"Are you SERIOUS right now?!" Ruho slammed his hands on the table, making the 3D map ripple slightly. "You want me to PRAY to you? To worship you like you're some kind of—"
"Like I'm some kind of god?" Azirel finished. "Which I am, by the way. Trainee god, technically, but still divine. And yes, I want prayers. Four of them. One per week. That's the deal."
"That's extortion!"
"That's the free market," Azirel countered. "Divine services cost divine tribute. You want real-time tactical surveillance? You give me prayers. Simple transaction."
Ruho wanted to argue more. Wanted to tell Azirel to shove his prayers up his non-existent divine ass. But he looked at the map, at the tiny pirate icons thirteen kilometers away, at the complete lack of detailed information about what they were doing or where they were going.
He needed this. He needed to see what was happening if he was going to have any chance of surviving the next few days.
"Fine," Ruho said through gritted teeth. "Fine. Four prayers. One per week. For the next month. But you better give me good surveillance."
"EXCELLENT!" Azirel said, his enthusiasm immediate. "I'm adding that to our divine contract right now. You are now obligated to pray to me weekly. Miss a week and the real-time feed gets cut off."
"Whatever. Just show me the pirates."
The map responded instantly. The 3D terrain began to shift and move, zooming in on the southern coast with dizzying speed. The perspective flew across forests and rivers and valleys until it reached the beach where the two ships were docked.
And then the view changed completely. Instead of a map, the table now showed what looked like a live video feed—a bird's eye view of the pirate camp as if a camera was hovering a hundred feet above it.
The feed was crystal clear. Ruho could see individual pirates moving around, carrying supplies from the ships to the beach. The ships themselves were massive up close, with ornate figureheads carved into grotesque sea monsters. Black sails furled on the masts. Cannons visible on the decks.
Men, and they were all men, Ruho noticed—were hauling crates and barrels down gangplanks, organizing them into piles on the sand. Some were setting up tents. Others were butchering the giant moa birds they'd killed, their massive carcasses being stripped for meat.
Ruho leaned closer to the table, watching the activity. "Enhance," he said, trying to zoom in on one of the crates to see what was inside.
"I can't increase the quality," Azirel said. "It's already at 18K resolution. This is as good as it gets."
Ruho stared at the incredibly detailed feed showing individual grains of sand on the beach. "18K? What the hell is 18K?"
"18,000 pixel resolution," Azirel explained. "Way beyond what your human eyes from Earth were designed to process. This is divine-grade surveillance. You're seeing better than eagles could see."
"Oh." Ruho paused. "I just always wanted to say 'enhance' like they do in cop shows."
"Well, now you've said it," Azirel said. "Feel better?"
"A little bit, yeah."
Ruho studied the pirate camp, watching the organized chaos of nearly five hundred men setting up a base of operations. They were efficient, he had to give them that. Already the beach was transforming into a functional military camp, with supply depots, cooking areas, and what looked like the beginnings of more permanent structures.
"How long until they start moving inland?" Ruho asked quietly, watching a group of pirates head into the forest with axes and saws.
"Hard to say," Azirel replied. "Could be tomorrow. Could be a few days. They need to secure their camp first, establish supply lines, scout the immediate area. But yeah, eventually they'll head for your plateau. It's the obvious strategic position."
Ruho watched the feed in silence, his mind already trying to formulate a plan he didn't have the resources or knowledge to execute.
Five hundred pirates. One of him. And a castle full of empty rooms that wouldn't save him when they arrived.