Late last night, after drowning in the volume of Upgrade Points hauled in by Tamsin and Brida’s hunting squads, he had decided his command center needed to reflect the terrifying might of his territory.

He couldn’t plan a multi-realm conquest from a simple stone keep!

He had walked up to the heavy timber walls of the Keep, placed his palm against the rough grain, and triggered his system.

[Upgrade System: Reinforced Stone Keep (Tier 2) -> Sovereign’s Citadel (Tier 3)]

[Cost: 300 UP]

The resulting evolution had been magnificent.

The basic stone and timber had groaned and expanded, transmuting into towering impenetrable blocks of polished dark-stone masonry.

The structure had shot upward into the night sky, creating high-vaulted stone ceilings supported by massive engraved pillars that depicted ancient scenes of conquest.

Intricate glowing blue mana runes were woven directly into the walls, regulating the internal temperature and providing a soft lighting that chased away the oppressive gloom of the Unknown Zone.

His new dedicated tactical office was a masterpiece of brutalist luxury.

Heavy velvet drapes framed the thick, iron-reinforced glass windows overlooking the courtyard.

A massive stone hearth roared with a smokeless magically fueled fire on the far wall, casting a warm orange glow over the thick woven rugs.

Silas leaned back in his leather chair, steepling his fingers.

He ran a hand through his dark hair as he listened to the heavy, unified marching cadence of his troops outside.

’Seventy troops...’ Silas thought with a deeply satisfied smirk touching his lips.

He thought back to the reality of Earth, to the massive sprawling corporate guilds that dominated the Lord Association.

He had built an army of loyal, superhuman killers in a week! Without even one casualty...

Knock! Knock!

The crisp sound of knuckles rapping against the heavy oak doors of his office broke his concentration.

"Enter," Silas commanded and the heavy doors clicked open, swinging inward silently on oiled iron hinges.

Aeliana stepped into the room.

The Royal Elven Arcanist looked like a completely different entity from the traumatized survivor he had pulled from the ruins of the bat cavern.

Dressed in her newly upgraded durable Tier 2 combat robes which Kaelia had washed and pressed to perfection... she radiated a cold elegance.

The silver trim on her dark blue robes caught the firelight.

Her green eyes were bright and focused with her pointed ears twitching slightly to gauge the ambient sounds of the Citadel, and her posture was flawlessly straight.

She moved with silent grace across the plush carpet, carrying a heavy silver tray in her delicate hands.

Resting on the tray was a steaming porcelain cup and a thick, heavy leather-bound ledger.

"Good morning, my Lord," Aeliana greeted softly.

She offered a perfect, respectful bow before stepping up to the massive obsidian desk as she carefully set the porcelain cup down near his right hand.

"Your morning tea. Kaelia infused it with a concentrated strain of Aether-Wheat extract to prime your mana pathways for the day."

"Thank you, Aeliana," Silas replied. He picked up the delicate cup with the porcelain looking incredibly small in his hand.

He took a slow sip.

The warm invigorating liquid slid down his throat, instantly sending a refreshing jolt of pure energy down his spine.

The dull ache of yesterday’s physical exertion vanished, his Gold Core flaring to life in response to the alchemical ingredients.

He set the cup down.

"What is the status of the early patrols?"

Aeliana placed the heavy silver tray under her arm.

"Captain Tamsin’s scouting unit has completed their sweep of the immediate western perimeter..." Aeliana reported. "There is no significant hostile movement within two miles in that direction. The local scavenger packs are actively avoiding our walls. Captain Brida has the heavy infantry running shield-wall compression drills in the main yard. The morale is astronomical. However..."

Aeliana paused.

Her delicate brow furrowed as an uncharacteristic awkward tension momentarily broke her flawless royal composure.

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other with her green eyes darting toward the roaring fire.

Silas lowered his teacup, his blue eyes narrowing. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the cool obsidian desktop.

"However what?" Silas asked. "Is there a logistical issue in the Garrison? Did a structural rune fail?"

Aeliana cleared her throat. An embarrassed pink hue dusted the tips of her long, pointed ears.

"We are currently experiencing a rather... unprecedented security breach within the perimeter walls, Lord Graves..." Aeliana stated with her voice tight, as if the words themselves physically pained her to speak. "Over the past two nights, several items have gone missing from the communal drying lines behind the Warlord’s Garrison."

Had a Shadow Stalker managed to slip past the Tier 3 wards?

Had a high-tier avian beast swooped down in the dead of night to steal their supplies?

If a mutation had found a blind spot in the Steel-Weave Palisade, he needed to order a full lockdown and purge the courtyard...

"What kind of items?" Silas demanded with his hand casually drifted toward the hilt of his mythril blade resting against the side of his desk. "Weapons? Rations? Alchemy ingredients?"

Aeliana deliberately broke eye contact, staring intensely at a glowing blue rune carved into the stone wall to her left.

"Undergarments, my Lord," Aeliana confessed. "Specifically, the newly woven lace panties provided by our tailor. Five pairs have vanished without a trace!"

Silence descended upon the massive tactical office.

The roaring crackle of the hearth fire and the distant muffled shouting of Brida in the courtyard were the only sounds in the room for ten agonizing seconds.

Silas just stared at her.

He stared at the elf, waiting for the punchline and actual threat assessment but Aeliana remained perfectly still with her face flushed with mortification.

"Panties?" Silas repeated with a confused look on his face.

"Yes, my Lord," Aeliana confirmed, her face now burning with a bright furious blush.

She refused to look at him.

"Captain Brida was incredibly enraged this morning when she discovered her largest pair missing. She nearly shattered five training dummy with her bare hands. The infantry division is currently paranoid, casting suspicious glances at one another."

Silas slowly lifted a hand and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He felt a throbbing headache forming directly behind his eyes.

He commanded an army of superhuman, lethal women capable of slaughtering massive beasts.

They had survived acid, mud, and quicksand... and their primary concern on the morning of their final trial day in this apocalypse was missing underwear?!

"Aeliana," Silas sighed deeply, leaning back in his plush leather chair and staring up at the vaulted ceiling. "Please tell me you did not suspect me of sneaking out of the Keep, bypassing my own guards, and raiding the drying lines in the middle of the night."

Aeliana’s eyes went wide in horror. She waved her pale hands frantically in front of her chest, completely abandoning her royal poise.

"No! Absolutely not, Lord Graves!" Aeliana stammered with her voice pitching up in panic. "You are a Sovereign of unparalleled dignity! You would never stoop to such undignified degenerate behavior! We merely suspect one of the newer, lesser-trained recruits might be... hoarding them. For whatever twisted psychological comfort they can find in the dark... The stress of the basin affects weaker minds in strange ways..."

Silas chuckled and it turned into a laugh that even made tears come out from his eyes. Stealing Panties, really?

"Assign Tamsin to the case..." Silas ordered smoothly, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Tell her to use her Level 10 tracking skills to sniff out the culprit. If a girl is hoarding them, assign her double latrine duty for a week. We maintain absolute discipline in this Citadel even regarding laundry."

"Understood, my Lord," Aeliana breathed a massive sigh of relief.

Her rigid posture instantly returned to normal with the embarrassing topic officially resolved.

She stepped forward, carefully placing the thick heavy leather-bound ledger she had brought with her onto the center of the polished obsidian desk.

"Moving on to official logistics," Aeliana smoothly pivoted the conversation.

Her silver eyes narrowed slightly as she tapped the heavy leather cover with her index finger. "This is the complete, detailed census report you requested yesterday afternoon. Our newly summoned Tailor worked through the night to compile it."

Silas looked down at the heavy book.

The Novice Trial was ending.

Before his impending return back to Earth, he had finalized his plan to purchase high-tier specialized civilian and combat-casual clothing for the girls.

They had their heavy iron armor, but armor was miserable to wear during downtime.

They needed durable, comfortable under-layers, off-duty garments, and proper boots that didn’t chafe... Eluned made stuff for them too but they needed things from him too.

To purchase those items in bulk from a good business on Earth where the merchants charged exorbitant prices for custom sizing... he needed exact, flawless measurements of every single soldier under his command.

"Excellent," Silas nodded, reaching out for the heavy leather cover. "Did the Tailor manage to log every single girl?"

Before his fingers could even brush the leather, Aeliana’s hand snapped out. She pressed her palm firmly against the center of the book, pinning it to the desk.

Silas paused, arching an eyebrow as he looked up at the Royal Elf.

Aeliana was leaning over the desk with her face incredibly close to his.

Her brilliant green eyes were narrowed into a protective glare.

The diehard loyalty she held for him did not prevent her from protecting the dignity of her fellow sisters in arms.

"Lord Graves," Aeliana spoke. "This ledger contains the exact, intimate physical dimensions of seventy two women including myself. It contains chest circumferences, hip ratios, and waist measurements down to the exact millimeter."

She leaned in an inch closer in embarrassment.

"I am trusting you with this sensitive document," Aeliana stated firmly. "I am formally requesting that you use it strictly for logistical procurement. I beg of you, my Lord... do not sit in this massive, secluded office and use these numbers for perverted degenerate visualization purposes."

Silas stared at her, completely deadpan.

He didn’t argue and he didn’t defend his honor.

He simply reached up, gently grabbed Aeliana’s slender wrist, and lifted her hand off the heavy leather book.

"Aeliana, we are currently fighting a war against mutated nightmares in a rotting apocalypse," Silas stated dryly.

He rolled his eyes, flipping the heavy leather cover open to reveal the crisp paper inside. "I do not have the time, the energy, nor the desperation required to sit in my chair and aggressively fantasize over a spreadsheet of tape-measure numbers. I am just going to read the sizes, memorize the bulk requirements, and hand it back to you later so we can buy some decent tunics."

Aeliana bit her bottom lip.

Her cheeks flushed pink as she stepped back from the desk, clasping her hands neatly in front of her robes.

"Of course, my Lord. My apologies for the assumption," Aeliana murmured respectfully, though she still eyed the book with a hint of suspicion.

Silas shook his head, pushing the conversation aside and focusing his analytical mind on the meticulously handwritten pages.

The Tailor had done an exceptional job.

The names of his Vanguard were listed in perfect alphabetical order, written in a sweeping elegant script.

Beside each name was a clean organized grid of specific tailoring measurements.

He scanned the first page quickly with his eyes darting across the rows.

’Alys... standard medium build. Thirty-four chest and twenty-six waist. I need to give her something that will fit her body nicely...’

’Bridget... slightly broader shoulders from the shield drills. She will need reinforced stitching around the armpits to prevent tearing.’

He flipped the heavy paper page with the thick paper rustling loudly in the quiet office.

His blue eyes rapidly dragged down the columns, committing the numerical data to his expanded memory but halfway down the third page, Silas’s eyes completely stopped moving.

His brain halted its processing...

He stared at a specific row of numbers.

He squinted, ensuring the ambient blue light from the mana runes wasn’t playing tricks on his vision or casting a strange shadow over the ink.

He blinked twice and he looked at the name attached to the row then he looked at the chest measurement.

Silas looked at the name again.

The silence returned to the office as outside, he could hear the muffled shout of Brida commanding the shield wall to brace.

"Wait," Silas finally spoke.

His voice cracked slightly.

It sounded like the voice of a man whose understanding of physics had just been shattered!

He looked up from the ledger. His blue eyes were wide in shock as he stared directly at the Royal Elf.

"Brida is a forty-two?" Silas asked.

[Author’s Note]

[Thanks for hitting the goal]