Building The Strongest Territory With My Sacrifice System
Chapter 34: Witness

Chapter 34: Witness

Meeting Spot

It was morning, and the people of the tenth Hamlet had gathered together at their usual meeting spot for today’s offering.

Murmuring could be heard among the crowd as the people discussed what they might receive from today’s offering.

The three scouts, new to the ordeal, found themselves growing curious as time ticked by. When they heard villagers’ testimonies, their eagerness to witness the ethereal activity only grew.

At that moment, Ragnar stood between the people and the sacrifice laid on the ground, a gentle smile on his face as he observed their expressions.

Without wasting time, he began his act, lifting his head and hands toward the sky as though seeking the divine.

Meanwhile, he secretly activated the Sacrifice skill.

|| Ding ||

|| Sacrifice sequence activated ||

|| Analyzing grade and quantity... analysis complete ||

|| Quantity: 93, Collective Grade: 2-star (low-tier) ||

The quantity and quality were lower than the previous offering two days ago, but Ragnar was satisfied.

As usual, the peculiar scenario took place—the items on the ground were shrouded in a faint glow for a few seconds, then disappeared, much to the amazement of the people and the shock of the three scouts.

As the glow faded, a hush fell over the crowd—a silence heavy with wonder. Even the wind seemed to pause, as if honoring the ritual’s power.

"This," Kendrick was speechless, "this is a miracle."

Roger and Milan were equally dazed by the event that took place before their eyes. Although they had witnessed magic on scouting missions, they had never seen anything like this.

At the same time, the rewards loaded.

|| Sacrifice accepted ||

|| Calculating rewards... 0%..2% ||

|| Calculating rewards... Complete, revealing rewards... ||

REWARDS:

X1 low-grade healing potion

X100 canned food (random)

"Damn, only canned food and a healing potion," Ragnar muttered in displeasure. "Not a single weapon or skill scroll, no random reward card this time."

Unfortunately, he did not have the luxury to complain and had to continue with his act.

He instructed his virtual assistant to open his inventory and pour out the one hundred canned food he had just received.

As instructed, the canned food began appearing out of thin air to the amazement of the spectators.

The canned food landed softly on the ground, its sheer number causing the people’s eyes to widen.

Having already tasted the delicious contents of the tunnel cans, they could not help but drool at the sight of so many.

"The ancestors have blessed us with a lot of food this time," Ragnar smiled and spoke in a gentle tone. "These one hundred canned foods should be enough to feed the entire Hamlet for a day, and no one would have to cook!"

Once he revealed the number, the jubilation of the people grew even more.

"The ancestors are really great!"

"They have given us so much from our little offering."

"To think our offering was able to bring about a hundred of these delicious and divine foods! The gods are really gracious!"

The people discussed happily among themselves. The scouts were still dazed by the ethereal activity and remained speechless.

The scouts’ eyes shone with excitement, their breaths caught in their throats.

"The ancestors had indeed blessed us," Ragnar began. "I will leave all these canned foods under the supervision of my trusted and responsible friend, Merlina," Ragnar turned to look at the red-haired beauty standing before the crowd.

"She will be in charge of distributing one can to everyone every morning," he continued.

"Why only in the morning?" the middle-aged man, notorious for preaching that the settlement was cursed, complained.

Ragnar shot him a sharp glare before his gaze softened as he explained his decision: "Fortunately, we’re not starved for food. It is harvest season for most of our crops, and there is plenty of food to eat. Unlike farm produce, which can rot over time, these canned foods are very durable, lasting up to a year. If we start relying on them alone, we would lose our harvest to the passage of time."

The middle-aged blasphemer immediately regretted speaking up and shyly moved to the back.

The others were proud of Ragnar for standing up with such confidence. It was a trait befitting of a leader.

"That is all for the distribution of the canned food," Ragnar said, then continued, "but we have other important matters at hand that I would like to share with everyone."

The people exchanged worried gazes, wondering what Ragnar would share next.

"We have received information that a horde of goblins is lying in wait in the woods, preparing to attack the Hamlet at any time," Ragnar revealed.

"Goblins?"

"Is this going to be like the goblin attack two years ago?"

"The goblin attack two years ago was sheer chaos. Though no lives were lost, our fields were razed and our livestock slaughtered, forcing us to starve for months."

"Why are those ugly monsters returning to plague our Hamlet again? Didn’t their devastation two years ago satisfy them?"

"What should we do about this attack?"

Noise erupted sharply at the revelation of brewing danger, the people grew anxious for their own safety.

"The reason I shared this with you this morning is not to raise your worries or sow doubt in your minds," Ragnar hushed the crowd with his calm voice.

They turned toward him, awaiting his next words.

"I shared it so you can be prepared when it finally begins, and no one here is caught off guard," Ragnar declared.

"How do you propose we handle that?" asked Roger, leaning forward, curious about the plan Ragnar was brewing.

Ragnar nodded at Roger’s question and replied gently, lowering his voice for emphasis, "Since the time and date aren’t fixed, we don’t know if they’ll strike by day or night. In either case, everyone who cannot fight should gather here immediately, without delay, so we can coordinate our defense efficiently."

"Isn’t it truly reckless to stay behind here when a goblin horde is approaching?" someone in the crowd argued.

Although the voice sounded unusually high-pitched, Ragnar recognized the same middle-aged troublemaker attempting to disguise his tone deliberately.

Ragnar’s eyes scanned the trembling crowd and settled on the man cowering behind an elderly woman, his fingers clutching her shawl. He shot him a glare that made him sweat despite the cool morning air.

Fortunately, no one tried to follow his example to flee in panic.

Ragnar explained what they must do when the hordes arrived: stay calm and remain here until the warriors dealt with the goblins. He told them he chose this meeting spot to ensure the fighters could focus on the battle without worrying about the villagers’ safety.

The goblins would come from the north, and the meeting spot lay at a safe distance from their main approach.

Also, gathering at a predetermined point made it vastly easier to protect everyone than if they were dispersed throughout the surrounding area in panic.

When the scouts considered his plan, they realized it truly worked to their advantage.

The three of them couldn’t help but wonder where Ragnar had acquired such insight. That kind of experience usually belonged to veterans like old man James and themselves, yet this young man outshone them.

Ragnar seized the moment to make other important announcements to the people.

The meeting concluded, and everyone went about their day.

Ragnar and Noah strolled to old man James’s place and began their training, which lasted for hours and ended late in the evening.

Today’s training had brought them closer to the final phase of mastering the entire technique that old man James taught.

According to old man James, after tomorrow’s training, they could rightly call themselves Sword Masters!

This news left both of them utterly amazed.

They returned home with smiles.

====

Ragnar’s room

Ragnar sat on the bed, eating canned fish while quickly checking his character status and the other parts of his system.

After he finished eating, he opened his inventory and equipped the low-grade healing potion he had received that morning.

A small, thin vial of red translucent liquid appeared in his hand, a description hovering above it.

|| Low-grade Healing Potion: Instantly restores 20 HP and gradually restores 2 HP every minute till HP is completely restored. ||

"Nice," Ragnar nodded. "This will go a long way in a fight."

He stored the healing potion back in his inventory and equipped the magic gem. It was about the size of a baby’s fist, glowing with a crimson hue.

Ragnar sat on the rough floor of his room, legs crossed and hands resting on his knees, settling into a meditative posture. He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, sinking into a deep, tranquil calm.

|| Host is a meditative state. ||

|| The mana in the magic gem is being absorbed at a slow rate. ||

|| At the current pace, 0.1 Spirit point will be gained every thirty minutes. ||

Just like that, Ragnar began gradually improving his Spirit attribute.