The governments had a problem. No one was willing to properly map out the new terrain and discover what resources it contained, whether those were ores, herbs, magical plants, or rare materials. Quite frankly, the military did not have the time for such work. Their forces were already busy defending the secret realms, training recruits, and making sure the two-hundred-kilometer radius around every city was safe from large predators such as wolves and bears. Exploration simply fell far down the list of priorities.
The military also had another problem. Before the world changed, experts had estimated that the distance between major cities would increase to roughly three hundred kilometers after the expansion. That estimate turned out to be completely wrong. Gaia had focused far more on expanding the landmass than the oceans, resulting in a world where land now outweighed water by a considerable margin. The reasoning behind it was simple: people generated cultural energy on land, not in the middle of the ocean.
As a result, distances increased dramatically. Cities that were once believed to be separated by three hundred kilometers now found themselves nearly five hundred kilometers apart. Mapping all that territory would require enormous manpower and resources. The military simply could not spare either. Every available soldier already had duties that were considered more important.
That was when a member of the European Parliament proposed a solution. Instead of relying on soldiers, why not encourage civilians to do the exploration themselves? The idea eventually became known as the Adventurers Guild. It would issue tasks, buy resources, and reward discoveries made in the wilderness. Most importantly, it would motivate people through profit rather than duty.
The proposal gained support surprisingly quickly. Many officials realized that the established factions had little interest in exploring beyond their immediate surroundings. Their attention remained fixed on the secret realms, where enormous amounts of money could be earned every day. Most factions only maintained a narrow road leading to their realms and rarely ventured farther. From their perspective, exploring unknown wilderness offered poor returns compared to farming corrupted creatures.
Because of that, the Adventurers Guild was officially approved after a vote. The organization was established with the primary goal of exploring the wilderness and documenting anything valuable that was found. The rewards offered were substantial enough to attract immediate attention. Reports of mana-rich ore deposits could earn a fortune. Even basic information about unusual plants or monster habitats could generate respectable income.
The government made sure to include strict regulations alongside those rewards. Any significant discovery had to be reported to the Adventurers Guild before anyone attempted to exploit it. Failing to do so was considered a serious crime. Officials feared that powerful individuals might otherwise conceal important resources for personal gain. Harsh punishments were introduced to discourage such behavior.
Those laws were only part of a broader set of reforms. During the chaotic aftermath of the First Trial, many democratic governments had taken the opportunity to rewrite sections of their constitutions. One of the most significant changes involved election campaigns. Every candidate would receive identical campaign funding. Outside interference was forbidden, and severe penalties were attached to anyone caught trying to manipulate elections.
The reasoning behind those reforms was straightforward. Governments wanted to ensure that political influence could not simply be purchased by wealthy individuals or organizations. While the measures were considered extreme by some, they proved surprisingly effective. Public trust slowly began to recover. At the same time, government institutions became far more efficient than they had been before the world's transformation.
The Adventurers Guild itself was still young. Despite that, more than a million people had already lined up at recruitment offices. The guild was not an official system faction, which meant it did not suffer from membership limitations. Instead, it operated as a government-owned organization backed by national resources. For many citizens, that made it more attractive than joining traditional factions.
The government was equally enthusiastic about the arrangement. Adventurers paid far higher taxes than many official factions. The state received roughly fifty percent of the value generated from corrupted creatures they killed. By comparison, official system factions contributed significantly less. Unsurprisingly, governments threw their full support behind the guild's expansion.
There was also another reason for that enthusiasm. Military expeditions had already discovered numerous resources whose value had yet to be properly assessed. Vast quantities of magical materials existed throughout the wilderness. Some appeared common, while others seemed incredibly rare. Ignoring such opportunities would have been foolish.
The secret realms remained profitable as well. The realm near Brussels continued to operate around the clock. More stage one creatures appeared every day, drawing increasing numbers of adventurers. People traveled great distances for the chance to earn silver and gold coins. The risks were considerable, but so were the rewards.
Many adventurers quickly discovered that food had become one of their greatest expenses. Agriculture was recovering, but production remained limited. Modern farming equipment could no longer be relied upon in the same way as before. Crops still grew, but much more labor was required. As a result, large-scale food production would take months to stabilize.
That situation benefited Gaia enormously. Food purchased through system shops remained expensive compared to what people were accustomed to paying. Yet there was little alternative for those spending weeks away from civilization. Adventurers, explorers, and soldiers all depended on those supplies. Coin after coin flowed into Gaia's hands.
For Gaia, producing food required almost no effort at all. She was a planetary entity with access to resources beyond human comprehension. Growing vegetables, livestock, or basic ingredients was trivial compared to her other capabilities. The real value lay not in the food itself but in the cultural energy exchanged through commerce. Every transaction contributed to her growth.
The universe itself functioned according to principles humanity only partially understood. It absorbed void matter and used it to expand in size and complexity. However, void matter could not be properly digested through consumption alone. Cultural energy produced by civilizations acted as the catalyst. Together, the two substances could be transformed into pure mana.
Pure mana represented one of the most valuable forms of energy in existence. The universe used it to fuel expansion and sustain countless worlds. Gaia, as a planetary entity, received a portion of that process. Although much of the cultural energy returned to the greater universe, she was permitted to keep a percentage for herself. That reserve allowed her to strengthen her world and create new opportunities.
The corrupted creatures provided another source of value. Their bodies contained traces of void matter, dangerous substances capable of corrupting living beings. Even tiny quantities could pose a threat to powerful creatures. Fortunately for Gaia, humanity was killing corrupted creatures in enormous numbers. Every death provided resources that could be processed and transformed.
Back at the portal, Arin watched the sky carefully. Five full days had passed since the eagle had emerged. During that entire period, the creature had been unable to land even once. Every time it descended, dozens of bows immediately tracked its movements. The moment it approached the ground, it risked being turned into smoke.
Most flying creatures died quickly because they attacked recklessly. They would dive toward valuable targets and kill several people before being brought down by concentrated fire. This eagle had proven different. It was cautious, patient, and intelligent. Rather than taking risks, it remained high above the battlefield where few arrows could reach it.
That intelligence had made it a constant threat. Archers could not relax while it remained overhead. Supplies had to be collected under guard. Patrols constantly watched the treetops. Everyone feared that the creature might suddenly decide to attack at the worst possible moment.
Now, however, the situation was finally changing. Arin narrowed his eyes as he studied the eagle against the setting sun. Its wingbeats were slower than before. Maintaining altitude seemed to require noticeable effort. The creature was clearly exhausted.
A grin slowly appeared on Arin's face. The eagle had survived for five days, but survival came at a cost. It had been denied food, denied rest, and denied any opportunity to recover. Constant vigilance from the Sonnenbergs had turned patience into a weapon. The creature had been trapped in the sky by fear itself.
"Yes, it's finally coming down," Arin said quietly.
Around him, several family members followed his gaze. They immediately noticed the same thing he had. The eagle's movements lacked their previous confidence. Small mistakes had begun to appear in its flight pattern. For the first time since it emerged from the portal, it looked vulnerable.
Nobody celebrated yet. The creature was still a stage one beast and therefore extremely dangerous. Even exhausted, it could kill people if given the opportunity. Nevertheless, the mood among the archers improved noticeably. After five days of frustration, victory finally seemed within reach.
Arin tightened his grip on his bow and continued watching the descending eagle. He had waited long enough for this opportunity. So had everyone else. If the creature made one mistake, they would not allow a second.
The eagle had spent five days ruling the sky. Now it was about to discover that the sky was no longer enough to save it.