Ravenna couldn''t help but feel a surge of relief and joy as she successfully logged into the website where she used to read The Light’s Conquest novel. The fact that she remembered her username and password was nothing short of a miracle. This meant she could now access crucial details about future events from the novel—a lifeline in a world where her survival depended on staying ahead of everyone else.
The internet connection provided by the Reputation System proved to be one of its most powerful features. She leaned back slightly, her lips curling into a small smile. “Alright,” she muttered, “time to check out the map and piece together everything about Jola.”
Jola Island had only been briefly mentioned in The Light’s Conquest, but with Ravenna’s inherited memories and knowledge of the novel’s plot, she began to form a clearer picture of her current predicament.
At first, the existence of Jola City baffled her. It seemed more like a liability than an asset to the Ancorna Empire—a desert island with no economic prospects and limited resources, yet one that demanded continuous imperial funding. Why pour money into an island that was essentially a deadweight? The answer, as it turned out, was deeply rooted in the empire’s history.
Strategically, Jola’s location was significant. Positioned close to the capital of the Ancorna Empire, it served as a potential shield against foreign invasions. The island’s placement meant that any foreign power attempting to use it as a base of operations would pose a direct threat to the empire’s heartland. However, this alone didn’t justify the establishment of a full-fledged city. A military base would have sufficed.
The real reason for Jola’s existence was religion. Decades ago, during the reign of Ravenna’s great-grandfather, the Herptian faith played a pivotal role in defending the empire’s borders. In gratitude for their divine assistance, the emperor granted the Herptian clergy a religious stronghold—Jola Island. Its proximity to the capital made it an ideal location for the clergy to exert influence while remaining under the watchful eye of the imperial court.
However, as the years passed, the influence of the Herptian faith waned. By the time Ravenna’s grandfather ascended to the throne, the religion was on the brink of collapse, its followers dwindling rapidly. Seeing no further need to invest in Jola, the emperor ceased its development. When Ravenna’s father, Emperor Andrew, took the throne, the situation worsened. The remaining members of the Herptian clergy abandoned the eastern continent entirely, returning to their homeland in the west. They left behind an unfinished city populated by their descendants—people who, being culturally and economically disconnected from the mainland, struggled to find a foothold in Ancorna society.
Over time, Jola fell into decline. By the time Ravenna was born, the island had lost any semblance of economic value. It was too strategic to abandon but too burdensome to maintain. When Ravenna was framed for her mother’s death, Emperor Andrew saw an opportunity to solve two problems at once—exiling his disgraced daughter while offloading the empire’s most troublesome holding.
“Man,” Ravenna muttered, rubbing her temples as the realization sank in. “So much for being a minor character, huh?”
She glanced at the glowing panel of the Reputation System hovering before her.
[Reputation System v0.1]
User: Ravenna Solarius / Joy Cha Kim
Reputation Level: 60 (4800/8200)
Current Reputation Points: 6,098
Reputation Rate: Stable
Titles: Raven of Sun Palace, Unruly Princess
{Reputation Points Log} {Spend Reputation Points}
Ravenna grimaced as she reviewed her dwindling points. Using the internet for over ten hours daily had drained her resources faster than she’d anticipated. When she first saw her level—60—she thought it would give her a comfortable buffer to rely on. But she now realized how na?ve that assumption had been. The daily bonus of 600 points was nowhere near enough to sustain her current usage, especially if she wanted to keep accessing the internet.
“Guess I’ll have to cut back,” she sighed, dismissing the system panel for now. “No more late-night browsing sessions unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
Shifting her focus, Ravenna picked up the reports Hughes had left for her. Among them was a detailed list compiled by Sarah Bob, one of the more capable citizens of Jola. The document outlined the names of every individual in the city—a staggering 5,000 people—and grouped them based on social status, household affiliations, and other categories.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
Ravenna’s brows furrowed as she scanned the reports. She had to admit, the organizational skills of the people surprised her. Despite the dire state of the island, their will to survive shone through in remarkable ways. Sarah, along with a group of literate citizens, had taken the initiative to create an orderly system for managing resources. The lists were particularly helpful in distributing the fish caught by Richard and his men, ensuring that food reached those who needed it most.
Being a former religious stronghold turned out to be an unexpected blessing. The Herptian clergy had emphasized literacy as part of their teachings, leaving behind a population where even peasants possessed basic reading and writing skills. This legacy made it significantly easier for Jola’s people to organize themselves in the absence of noble oversight.
Ravenna leaned back, letting the reports rest on her lap. For the first time, she felt a glimmer of hope. Jola might be a forgotten, crumbling city, but it wasn’t without potential. Its people were resilient, resourceful, and willing to work for a better future.
“It’s not much,” Ravenna murmured, closing her ledger with a sigh, “but it’s a start. Let’s see how far we can take this.”
The flickering candlelight illuminated the detailed ledgers and maps scattered across her bed, all evidence of the tireless effort she’d put into stabilizing Jola Island. Despite the weight of responsibility pressing down on her, she couldn’t afford to falter now.
Ravenna reviewed the expenses once again. She had purchased wheat and other storable grains worth 150 Mana Coins, a strategic decision she hoped would sustain the 5,000 citizens of Jola for at least three months. To ensure the grains wouldn’t spoil in the island''s harsh, humid climate, she had spent 50 Mana Coins on enchantments for preservation. Another 50 Mana Coins had gone to pay for the ship and crew that transported the supplies from the mainland—a steep cost, exacerbated by the inflated prices imposed on her due to her title, The Unruly Princess. Even small purchases came with additional charges, a bitter reminder of her precarious position in the empire.
Her plan, while effective, had drained her resources rapidly. Ravenna had decided to repurpose the empty noble estates scattered across the city into communal dining halls. Each hall would serve cooked meals three times a day, ensuring equitable distribution of food to all. The idea was practical and fostered unity among the citizens, but it came with significant costs. She still had to allocate funds to pay the laborers managing the food distribution system, as well as the knights under her command.
With a simple calculation, she realized that after all the monthly expenses, she would be left with no more than 50 or 60 Mana Coins. That was assuming there were no unexpected emergencies—an unlikely prospect given Jola''s unstable state. The thought left a sour taste in her mouth.
“We’re stretched thin,” Ravenna muttered under her breath, her fingers tracing the edges of the parchment. “If Neil doesn’t finish the tools on time, we’ll be back to square one.”
The blacksmith, Neil, was her last hope for establishing some semblance of self-sufficiency on the island. She had tasked him with crafting essential farming tools and equipment based on designs from online, Hughes had delivered them to him. While Neil might be skilled, she wasn’t sure if he had the materials—or the time—to complete the job as quickly as she needed. The entire agricultural plan hinged on his success.
Her gaze shifted to another set of papers detailing her ambitious but precarious farming initiative. Drawing inspiration from her research online, she intended to use nutrient-rich soil from the seabed to cultivate crops, particularly potatoes. Potatoes were hardy, easy to grow, and could provide the caloric intake needed to sustain the population. However, the plan was far from foolproof. Watching a video and executing it in real life were two entirely different things. She lacked both practical farming knowledge and the luxury of time for experimentation.
If the potato farming failed, she’d be forced to dip into her remaining funds to buy food again—an unsustainable solution. With no additional revenue streams, the city would be right back to where it started: starving, desperate, and vulnerable.
Ravenna closed her eyes, rubbing her temples as the weight of her responsibilities settled heavily on her shoulders. “Come on, Ravenna. Think. There has to be another way.”
She glanced back at her ledger, flipping through pages of expenditures and debts. Her remaining 180 Mana Coins needed to stretch far enough to cover labor costs, including the wages of the volunteers organizing food distribution, and her knights who provided critical security in a city rife with uncertainty.
The flickering candlelight cast her shadow on the wall, a stark reminder of how solitary her battle was. Yet, despite the challenges, she refused to give up. The stakes were too high for hesitation or doubt.
“I need Neil to finish those designs,” she muttered, her voice laced with determination. “And I need those potatoes to grow. If either of these fails…” She trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought.