In another world without a system

The world of Grandlebell was once a harmonious realm, a place where humans, elves, dwarves, and even some demon clans coexisted in peace. It was a golden age of prosperity, unmarred by war or strife. However, this tranquility came to a sudden end a thousand years ago with the birth of the Demon King. As the avatar of the Demon God, the Demon King possessed unfathomable power and commanded an unrelenting army of demons. Under his rule, the demon race launched a campaign of destruction, intent on conquering the world. Grandlebell, once a beacon of unity, was plunged into chaos and despair.

As the world teetered on the brink of annihilation, the God of Grandlebell, protector of the realm, intervened. In a desperate bid to save humanity, the god bestowed upon them a divine gift: a system that quantified their strength and allowed them to grow more powerful. This system, known as the Status System, became humanity's greatest weapon against the Demon King's forces.

Through the system, every human was granted the ability to see their own status which shows a numerical representation of their physical and magical capabilities. Titles and skills were also displayed, reflecting their potential and achievements. By training, fighting, and receiving divine blessings, individuals could raise their stats and unlock new powers. The system acted as a great equalizer, giving humanity the means to resist the overwhelming might of the demon race.

Amid this desperate struggle, one individual emerged above all others: the First Hero. Empowered by the system and driven by unyielding courage, the Hero rallied the races of Grandlebell into a unified force. Together, they fought a climactic battle against the Demon King and his armies. In the end, the Hero's might and leadership led to the Demon King's defeat.

However, their victory was not absolute. As the Demon King fell, his master, the Demon God, uttered a terrible curse upon the world:

"When my avatar falls, my vengeance shall rise. My forces will break through your defenses, and darkness will consume this land. And after a thousand years, the demon king will break the seal then I shall descend when all hope is lost."

With the Demon King defeated but the Demon God's curse looming, the First Hero used the last of their life force to create a powerful barrier known as the Gate of Sealing. This gate became humanity's safeguard, containing the Demon God's forces and ensuring that demons would emerge in controlled intervals rather than in overwhelming waves.

To manage these threats, the Gate of Sealing categorized the demons based on their strength:

F-Class & E-Class: Minor nuisances and weak demons, easily handled by commoners and low-ranked adventurers.

D-Class & C-Class: Moderate threats requiring the skills of intermediate warriors or lower-ranking nobles.

B-Class: High-level demons that posed significant danger, often needing seasoned adventurers or knights to confront.

A-Class: Demon Lords, powerful subordinates of the Demon King, whose appearance demanded the intervention of high-ranking nobles and their elite forces.

S-Class to SSS-Class: Rare, catastrophic threats born from the Demon God's curse. These demons rivaled the power of the Demon King himself and required immense resources and heroes to defeat.

The Gate of Sealing maintained a precarious balance between humanity and the demon race. While it prevented the world from being overrun, it also ensured that humanity could never rest. Training, preparation, and vigilance became the cornerstone of life in Grandlebell, as everyone worked to strengthen themselves against the ever-looming threat of the Demon God's curse.

Though the First Hero's sacrifice had bought humanity a chance to survive, it was clear that the struggle for Grandlebell's future was far from over. The demons were contained, but the shadow of the Demon God and his avatar still loomed over the world, waiting for the day when the balance would tip once more.

With this perilous backdrop in mind, we return to Greji, now reluctantly stepping into his new role as a noble. Accompanied by a group of escort knights who, in his opinion, were either overzealous or completely underqualified Greji prepared to make his first appearance before the villagers.

His gleaming armor (borrowed and slightly too big) caught the sunlight, making him look far more confident than he felt. He had spent the morning rehearsing a speech designed to charm the townsfolk into paying their taxes without grumbling too much. After all, he had no intention of being chased out of the village by an angry mob.

"Alright, team," Greji said, addressing his knights, who stood in varying states of attentiveness. "We're heading to the village. Remember, I'm the charismatic leader, you're the intimidating backup, and we're here to inspire hope. Or at least not cause a riot."

One of the knights, a burly man named Gareth, scratched his head. "Sir, do you really think your speech will work?"

Greji grinned, flashing his perfect teeth. "Have you seen this face? People will be too dazzled to argue."

The knights exchanged skeptical glances but followed him anyway.

As they approached the village, Greji's confidence wavered slightly. The villagers were already gathered, their faces a mix of curiosity and suspicion. Most of them looked like they'd rather be anywhere else than listening to a noble lecture them about taxes.

"Here goes nothing," Greji muttered under his breath. He stepped forward, his dazzling smile firmly in place.

"People of the village!" he began, his voice carrying an impressive amount of charm. "I come not just as your lord's son, but as your neighbor, your ally, and your friend!"

The crowd murmured, clearly unimpressed.

"And as your very attractive representative," he added with a wink, earning a few reluctant chuckles.

It wasn't much, but it was a start. Greji decided to lean into his strengths: cunning, charisma, and the ability to look good in any lighting. If he could win over these villagers, he might just survive this crazy world after all.

As Greji strode into the village square, his polished armor gleaming in the sun and his carefully rehearsed speech ready to roll off his tongue, he immediately noticed the atmosphere was… tense. On one side of the square, the village men stood with crossed arms and scowls that could curdle milk. On the other side, the village women gathered, their eyes sparkling with admiration and, in some cases, barely concealed swooning.

It was a stark contrast, and Greji's finely tuned survival instincts were already screaming at him to retreat. But he was a noble now sort of and nobles didn't just turn tail at the first sign of trouble.

"Ah, esteemed villagers," Greji began, his voice ringing out confidently. "I come before you today not as a distant noble, but as your neighbor and—"

"Shut it, pretty boy!" one of the men shouted, cutting him off.

Greji blinked, caught off guard. "Excuse me?"

"You think you can just waltz in here with your shiny armor and steal all our women with your fancy words and… and face?" the man continued, waving a calloused hand in Greji's general direction.

"Yeah!" another man chimed in, his face red with indignation. "My wife hasn't stopped talking about you since the last tax collection notice!"

Greji glanced toward the women, who were practically glowing with adoration. A few of them even waved at him. One elderly woman blew him a kiss.

"Oh, for the love of…" Greji muttered under his breath.

The situation was spiraling fast. The men were starting to form what looked alarmingly like a riotous mob, their pitchforks and torches suddenly appearing out of nowhere as if by some village law of spontaneous weaponry.

Thinking quickly, Greji raised his hands in a placating gesture, flashing a smile that could disarm a warlord or so he hoped.

"Gentlemen, please," he said, his voice smooth and calming. "I assure you, I'm not here to steal your wives, your daughters, or your goats."

This earned a confused silence.

"Goats?" one of the men repeated.

"Trust me, I've seen it happen," Greji added gravely. "But that's not why I'm here."

The men exchanged uncertain glances. The pitchforks lowered slightly. Greji pressed his advantage.

"In fact," he continued, clasping his hands dramatically over his heart, "I'm here to serve you. To make your lives better. To reduce your burdens!"

"You're raising our taxes!" a man in the back shouted.

Greji winced. "Okay, yes, but think of where that money goes! Roads! Schools! Uh… better fences to keep the goats in?"

Another murmur swept through the crowd, this one less hostile and more confused.

Sensing he needed to work both sides of the audience, Greji turned to the women and gave them his most dazzling smile. "And as for you lovely ladies," he said, his voice dropping into a softer, more charming tone, "your beauty inspires me to do better for this village every day. You deserve the finest roads and the strongest fences… to keep the goats out, naturally."

A collective sigh rose from the women, their cheeks flushing.

Turning back to the men, Greji hardened his expression, giving them a nod of solidarity. "But I also understand your concerns. You work hard every day to provide for your families, and the last thing you need is some outsider strutting in and causing trouble. Let me prove to you that I'm here to help, not to disrupt."

The men didn't look entirely convinced, but at least they weren't actively brandishing pitchforks

By the end of the speech, Greji had managed to calm the crowd enough to avoid outright rebellion. The women still looked at him like he was a prince in disguise, while the men grudgingly admitted (mostly to themselves) that he wasn't completely terrible.

As Greji walked away from the square, he let out a long breath and muttered to himself, "Well, that was a disaster. But at least I didn't get trampled."

One of his knights sidled up to him, smirking. "You really have a way with words, my lord."

"Shut up," Greji replied, tugging at his too-big armor. "Next time, you're giving the speech."

And with that, Greji chalked up another day of not dying as a win and headed off to plan his next cunning scheme.

Greji gathered the villagers in a modest barn that served as the village meeting hall. Spreading out a crude map of the area, he addressed the crowd with uncharacteristic seriousness. "This village has potential," he began, tapping the map with a stick he'd picked up, "but right now, it's about as sturdy as a three-legged wagon on a rocky road." The villagers exchanged confused glances, but Greji pressed on, outlining two key issues: security and water supply. First, he proposed constructing a stone fence around the village, pointing out that their current wooden barriers were laughably inadequate. "They can't stop bandits, wild animals, or even a determined goat," he quipped, earning a few reluctant chuckles. The plan involved sourcing stones from a nearby quarry, enlisting every able-bodied villager for construction, and having his knights assist with logistics. When one villager raised concerns about the cost, Greji grinned and introduced his idea of "noble redistribution," a slightly increased tax on the wealthiest landowners.

Next, Greji addressed the village's reliance on a single stream for water. He painted a grim picture of droughts or potential contamination, suggesting a reservoir to collect and store water. The plan included digging a basin near the stream, lining it with clay for waterproofing, and building wooden pipes to distribute water throughout the village. Though some villagers worried about the labor involved, Greji emphasized the benefits: cleaner water, better crop irrigation, and increased self-sufficiency. He sweetened the deal by highlighting the long-term economic gains and the reduced likelihood of bandit attacks.

By the end of the meeting, the villagers seemed cautiously optimistic, their initial skepticism tempered by Greji's persuasive arguments and infectious confidence. Tasks were immediately assigned: knights would scout locations, villagers were split into labor teams, and Greji himself would supervise the construction. As the crowd dispersed, murmuring among themselves, Greji leaned back with a satisfied smirk. "This might actually work," he muttered, though he couldn't resist adding, "and if it doesn't, I'll just blame the knights." For the first time, Greji felt like he'd taken a real step toward leadership, not just by relying on his charm but by proving he had the wits to back it.