Chapter 47 - Spreadsheets (Patreon)

Royal Road Live Date: 7/20/2026 @ 11 EST

The Numi clan scouting team bowed, their backs against the lowest tier in the amphitheater.

“Given the sensitivity of your report,” began Elder Gael, “I have asked you here without your clan leadership. I would request that you keep both what you’ve seen, and what we say today to yourselves. Is that understood?”Rosk growled threateningly to her side, Senna giving the dozen warriors a sidelong glance from her perch on her seat. 

“Yes elder!” said Chen. He stepped forward, the team leader for the scouts. “We understand. I will ensure that no Numi tribes person speaks of what we have seen.”

Gael held up a finger. “You will ensure that not even Numi clan members hear of this.”

He hesitated, before nodding. “I give my word. They will not.”

“Good.” She stepped back, taking her seat and motioning with her hand. “Report. The other scout party we sent out came back from the north west with mixed results. However, I’m told you have more concerning findings?”

Chen winced. “Yes, elder. We do.” He reached back into his pack, undoing it and removing the heavy corrupted piece of wood. He held it out, calloused palms trembling at the weight.

Senna nearly fell from her chair, pointing. “That’s the taint! The taint I spoke of!”

Gael waved her to quiet, before leaning forward with a frown. Carefully, she grabbed the log. The moment it was transferred to her grip, the elder’s eyes opened wide in surprise. Dark timber slipped from her grip and landed on the stage with a resounding thud.

Rosk chuckled, rising from his chair and striding over to pick it up. “You’ve gotten old, Gael. Can’t even—” he cut off. Not because he couldn’t lift it, but at the weight. Hefting the log, he whistled. “The hell is this? Metal?”

Chen shook his head. “No. We removed it from a tree. It is a sample, elders.”

“A tree?” asked Senna. “What do you mean?” she asked, gaze intent.

“The entire tree looked like this wood. Orange veins running through parts of it. It was… wrong. Its wood too dark, and branches winding like twine. Even carrying it felt off.”

Rosk spoke up. “You see? We’re sitting here, sending out scouts, meanwhile Valdren is killing our forest. Maybe working with the Solari to use their magic on it.”

“Rosk, please,” said Gael, giving him a look. Turning to Chen and his clanmates, she went on. “Did you see any signs of Valdren soldiers? Any camps? Perhaps fires or the like?”Chen shook his head. “No elder. Not a single one. Just death and silence. In fact, when we got about two days west, the ground changed. It was not dirt, but some kind of orange sand.”

“And the wildlife. Tell her about the wildlife!” urged one of the burly warriors in the back. 

Chen nodded. “Yes. Even before we got that far, the animals were nearly nonexistent. I honestly have no idea how the outcast tribes there are hunting. I’d bet most the prey to be gone.

Gael thought, scenarios going through her mind. “This… doesn’t add up.”

“It must! The killings Tove showed us must be connected. I do not know how, but the coincidence is too much,” argued Senna.

“Who cares. Someones killing our forest, killing our people, and talking our food. We can’t keep twiddling our thumbs,” snapped Rosk. 

“I didn't say we should!” retorted Senna. “Frankly, I agree with you. Even if you are a hard headed—”

“Both of you!” barked Senna. “Enough. Please. Let me think.”

Muttering, they both quelled and looked Elder Senna.

For her part, she went over the evidence. Yet, no matter how she adjusted the pieces, they just didn’t fit. Like a puzzle that wasn’t right. “From everything we’ve seen, the corruption is growing. Which means we need to find out why, and soon. However, the first rumors we heard of were over a month ago. So we do have some time. I think we need to go deeper. Find out what’s at the heart of this corrupted land.”

Chen coughed awkwardly. “Elder, I don’t know if that’s possible. When we stepped onto those sands, it was like we’d been sick for a week. Every step was harder, the air thicker, and the smells.. I don’t know how deep that evil place is. But going into it is going to be quite the challenge.”

“Tsk. I can make something to help,” sighed Senna. “An herbal recipe.”

“It’s settled, then. Chen. Your team will return with Senna’s mixture and try to penetrate deeper. We’ll also be sending the other scouting team to survey more of the eastern clans for anything else. Time is short, but we shouldn’t be hasty.”

Gael said as much, at least. She just didn’t truly know if she believed it.

The sound of rustling cloth filled the citadel. Sythara was on one knee, polishing and rubbing Veron’s marbled skin. Running tests.

“This is… well, this is one more contradiction to everything I thought possible. Corruption intermingling with an unknown energy, resulting in a marble-like cocoon. The subject alive inside it? Is he conscious? Can he hear us? Can he see us?” breathed Sythara. Her elegant hands ran up and down the torso.

“What is she doing?” asked Vorathrex, voice booming. Sythara didn’t even lookup.

“The child’s agreement,” muttered the demoness.

“She’s working on a method to revitalize Veron. Which, I will stress, is strictly in the observation tier of research.” The city lord directed that second bit at Sythara.

“I know, Child. I know. I can still enjoy the learning,” she replied quietly, shadowy tendrils tightening around her.

The city lord thought that was appropriate. For now. 

“Anyway. Shiny. Vorathrex. You both have your duties to the city. Speaking of, I wanted to make sure we’re all on the same page. Our little abode has found itself in a… familiar situation.”

“You mean more angry humans, not enough time?” His wrath councilor cracked his neck, four arms flexing restlessly. 

“Yeahhhh. You could say that.”

Shiny crossed his little arms, claws at his chest. “Master. What bout human friend? Say anything? Help at all?”

“Hector was very tight lipped about paladins. Whenever I asked, he became quite slippery.”

“Why? You made deals?”

“We did. But I suspect part of Hector was just giving into his fascinations of demons, magic, and the unholy. And the other piece of him is playing both sides. If we survive the paladins, he’s made himself the only human middleman between us and the rest of their race.”

“If fail?” asked Shiny, his impish brows furrowed in concern.

Vorathrex yawned, showing just what he thought about that. “Then we deserve to fail, and are too weak.”

“Then, for Hector,” replied Kairon, giving a very disapproving glance at the big demon, “he probably has some scheme in mind to frame this all as some elaborate hoax with him as the victim. Whether it will work or not, I don’t know. At least, that’s what I’d do in his shoes. Although… I’m still missing a lot of important information. Even after spending the entire day with that lordling, I feel like I only managed to pry lose pieces and chunks about Valdren and The Solari.”

“And green folk.”

“Yes. And those,” sighed Kairon. “Anyway, trust that your master has plans.”

“Tricks, you mean.”

The demon was formulating a politically acceptable reply when Bean came scampering into the citadel. Behind, Nod followed.

“Harvest today!” said Bean.

“Morning Bean. Correct! Today’s the harvest. And, just in time. I’m planning on making a second ashroot farm today, before we move on to the ritual circle for Sythara.”

“Why? Food pile big.”

“Yes… But we just dropped below two hundred food. At our population, that’s about half a week’s worth.”

The little imp frowned. “But… so much! And now two farm?! Need more imp. Already so busy!”

Shiny’s nose scrunched in irritation. “Not now Bean. Master need wood. More brood go there. Right master?”

“Uh oh,” muttered Nod.

Vorathrex snorted. “You can argue about sticks and dirt. I am going to train the warriors.” The big demon grunted, took one last long glance at Veron’s marbled torso, and then thudded outside.

Kairon cocked his head at the imps. “You both realize that I charted this and…” Then, another thought struck him. “Shiny, how much wood do you believe we have?”

The little supervisor shrugged. “Small pile. Need bigger pile.”

They both keep describing resources in terms of how large the pile looks in the stockpile. But I know they can count.

Kairon decided to test this.

“Bean. How many workers do you have on your farm? Including you.”

“Five!”

“Shiny? How many imps do we currently have on Timber?”

“Fourteen.”

“Correct. So you both know numbers. Why don’t you use them for your resources?”

His managers shuffled uncertainly, none speaking up.

“Oh, come now. Shiny, you watch the stockpile. Don’t you count what goes in and out?”

“At first. But big stick more. Small stick less.”

“Right, right. The system doesn’t value each item equally. But don’t you at least try and keep count?”

“Remember hard. Too much,” added the imp.

Pausing, the demon thought on this. The issue was clear. They needed book-keeping. Something simple enough his management could use, but more permanent than the sand charts that blew away each night.

How had early settlements dealt with this? He went back through his mind, a catalog of thousands of tickets worked flashing through his thoughts.

One such ticket pressed to the surface. An early civilization that submitted a complaint about a neighboring settlement over regional jurisdiction. That wasn’t what he cared about. He was more interested in a side story that investigation had taken him to.

“I… Have an idea. I believe I know how to resolve this. Bean, I need you to dig by that riverbed for me. We’re going to need clay. Nod, Shiny. You come too. Today is going to be a training session!”

***

Digging done with, the small group made its way to the walls. As the imps chattered and Kairon hobbled along, the city lord retraced his logic. Pacing always encouraged the mind to think.

And today, he was thinking about the future. Not just the paladins, but his city. What his goals were. When it came down to it, there were really only two. Survival and knowledge.

He wanted to be able to build a haven for him and who he cared about to outlast all that was to come, while using it as a launching pad to investigate the fascinating world of the demonic, and all its forbidden knowledge.

To do that, however, he needed to prioritize survival. Still.

And for that…

The city’s economic engine was finally starting to come online. It was reaching the point that The Bureau referred to as the critical failure juncture. A precipice that once passed, the percentage for success was exponentially higher. Until then, it was dicey.

When you looked at this in the context of his city, there was a problem.

I’m a bottleneck. Everything flows back to me. Right now, they were getting away with it. Yet, when their population scaled, it would be a problem. A major limiter.

Kairon knew that some of that he wouldn’t be able to solve immediately.

But… He could solve one element of that. Information. The problem that had surfaced this morning.

No one but him could see the amount of population, resources, and yields the city had. That’s just how the system worked.

Unfortunately, it severely limited the decision making of his management team. Shiny, for example, couldn’t provide accurate input about his workers when he didn’t even truly know how much of each resource the city had, made, and needed. Bean thought they had a huge stockpile of food, when in reality it wasn’t even a week’s worth.

Sticking his stick into the hard stone, he stopped. “Okay! This spot looks perfect.” He’d chosen a section of the wall that was currently just open space. The fourth or fifth ring would fill it in, but for now, it was real estate.

The scaled demon gestured at the trio. “Have you ever heard of a spreadsheet?”

“Spread sheet,” mused Shiny.

“Spread sheet,” Bean repeated.

“Bread sheet,” chimed in Nod.

“One word. Spreadsheet. It’s very useful. Like Gantt charts, only this is more for keeping records, less for planning. Actually, you could use it to plan too.” He grunted. “I digress. Not the point.”

With a plop, Bean let the warm clay he’d collected from the riverbed drop into a heap.

“My plan is to make sure that as supervisors, you have all the knowledge you need to make informed decisions. While I will ultimately be the top level decision maker, you all still need to have a level of autonomy. Today, we are going to solve that.”

Shiny looked at the squishy pile of wet clay in confusion. “We solve… With mud?”

“Yes!” chirped Bean happily. “Dig!”

“What we are going to try and mimic is a method I saw a rather crude civilization do. Well, they did it several thousand years before they opened a ticket.”

“Ticket?” asked Shiny.

“Long story. Another time. For now, help me with this.”

The trio settled down, sitting cross-legged around the mound of clay. Then, at Kairon’s direction, stuck their claws in it.

“We need to knead out the debris, stones, and roots. The goal,” he grunted, forcing his black claws deeper into the warm muck, “is to push all of that out. And to leave cleaner clay in its place.”

Bean was the first to follow suit, making squelching and squishing noises.

In minutes, the three of them managed to knead a type of mucky dough. On one side was a mound of muddy debris, and the other a cleaner, more functional pile of clay.

“Now, we flatten it. We just push it out like this…” Using his stick like a roller, he spread the clay along the city’s black stone surface. It spread easily, their kneading making it both malleable and smooth.

“Good. Just like that.”

In moments, Shiny, Bean, and Nod had mimicked their master, making short work of the pile.

“And before it dries, the last step!”

Cocking their heads curiously, they watched as Kairon utilized his walking stick to carve grooves in the clay.

“What doing?” asked Shiny.

“Digging!” said Bean.

“No… I’m making a grid. Or, trying to,” muttered Kairon distractedly.

He carved a set of columns and rows, keeping each spaced as equally as he could manage.

“This is the sheet. It's made up of what we call cells. As part of your duties, you will need to learn to make, understand, and use them. In the coming months, I have worked out a deal with Hector for ink and parchment. But until then, this is what we have.”

The gremlins just looked uncomprehendingly at the drying clay. None said a word.

“I see there is some… confusion about the subject. That’s okay and to be expected. Not to fear! We have the day to learn.”

He sat back, nodding in appreciation at his creation. Above, the sun pushed waves of the late morning heat onto the wet clay.

“While we wait for this to bake and dry, let me explain how this will work.”

And so it began. Three imps, one demon, and a spreadsheet.

***

Kairon clapped his claws together. Above, the sun had traveled from horizon to horizon, marking the work day near its conclusion. They’d only taken a break during midday for the second ashroot ritual to be completed.

Start Ritual To Build Ashroot Plot? Yes / No --- Cost: 50 Timber, 250 Gold

He decided that for now, placing it next to the original was the best choice. Outside the northern gates, two farmlands now sat.

As for the training… It had been slow, but worth it. The sheet in front of him was proof enough of that. The clay had baked and hardened, leaving a resilient surface that the imps could maintain each day. There were three columns for each resource. Stock, daily yield, and feeding pit queue.

“So. All of you. Give me a report on where our resources stand. Just how I taught you! Remember, read left to right.”

Shiny peered down, focusing. He pointed with a tiny stick at the orange pebbles on the left. “Twenty six wood. Two day per imp. Twenty eight per day. None in queueue.”

“Excellent! Bean? Food?”

“Harvest today hundred and eighty. Have one ninety three. Before dinner. Queue… Hundred and eighty.”

“Correct. Our queue is the same as today’s harvest. Once done, that one hundred and eighty should become over seven hundred. Okay, last one up. Nod, tell me. Where do most issues lie? What plagues our populace most?”

The Demonic Resources manager stepped forward. He traced one claw against the rightmost column. Unlike the others, his used scratches to mark grievances. “First is… Food. Four say not fair.”

Kairon frowned. Everyone, save Vorathrex, should get an equal share. “Shiny. Any idea what this could mean?”

His supervisor shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Hmm. That’s odd.” Still contemplating that, Kairon gestured. “Nod, what’s next? Perhaps we’ll find a connection.”

The little imp bit his lip, then looked down the row. A collection of three claw marks was in the next cell. “Mornings. Three say hungry. Not want wait.”

Originally, he’d ordered meal time to be once a day each evening.

“What if we prepare meals so that half a portion is consumed before work in the morning, and half at night. That might help to resolve that, no? Give some energy for daily duty, and something to look forward to before bed.”

Chitters of approval.

“Splendid!” Then, another thought struck him. “Nod. Let’s start tracking the maintenance inspections here. Anytime you find a code violation, it goes on the chart. Then, you and Shiny can address it. Understood?”“Yes Master!”

***

As Kairon lounged in the citadel, he chewed on the ashroot. They boiled it with some water, giving it a rubbery, tofu like texture. It was actually pleasant on the tongue, given how used they were to jerky.

Between bites, he found himself considering the spreadsheet from today.

Spreadsheet…

He loved those things. But for some reason, that word wouldn't leave his head. Like his sigil, it was lodged inside his mind. Dwelling.

Inside his mindscape, he turned the sigil over. Looked at it from the side. Then beneath it. Its fluid, connected lines. A language he didn’t understand.

Humming in contemplation, he went back to the image of the clay sheet. Its grid lines. Then, he thought back to the only time he engaged the sigil. How it cost him gold. What were those notifications?

Gold -1

Odd. Why the cost? Why gold? He hadn't told it to do anything. He just poked the damn thing.

The frustration of not finding an answer to this had finally begun to boil over. Swallowing the last piece of ashroot, he closed his eyes, and considered.

Perhaps I’m looking at this wrong. I need to focus on the underlying principle. Two languages. One, demonic. It included everything from buildings, rituals, scripture, and his city interface.

The other, foundational. It consisted of the black sigil and the golden energy. Source. Like source code?

And it was trying to interact with the newer, demonic interface on top of it. How had Sythara described it?

Oil on water.

Let’s assume that theory to be true. How did the system react when I tried using my source sigil?

On the front side, it cost him one gold. But it shouldn't have.

So what that really might have been was an error.

The more he chewed on that, the more he was sure of it. Had to be.

How or why it errored, he couldn’t explain. But the error itself…

Investigating further, he pulled up his city interface, scrolled back, and found one of the earlier notifications from the plane. When he first learned one of their scripts.

Demonic Script --- 1/??? AcquiredDemonic Script Comprehension: 1Notice. Domain inscriptions partially accessible.

It had said 'demonic script'. And, the number had been a part of a whole. One of question mark.

But now…

Sigils: 1

He was getting two different notifications.

That made sense. Two systems would communicate very differently, after all. But…

If I learned a sigil, why doesn't the source language say 'Sigils: 1/1' or 'Sigils 1/?'? Why does it not list a partial comprehension rate?

Slowly, a startling possibility began to unfold.

Unless I've fully understood it. If I already know everything I need to. If it's actually usable in its current form.

Kairon sat up straighter, mealtime forgotten. Could it be that simple? Staring me right in the face this whole time?

Sigils: 1

He exhaled, a thin puff of air sliding from his maw.

What if the source system wasn’t telling him he’d learned one sigil. What if this wasn’t a metric tracker. It wasn’t a formula.

A sound like lightning cracked in his mind.

He hadn’t just learned one sigil.

He’d learned a value.

One.

The sigil he knew, literally, was the number one. That was it! That had to be! It made so much sense.

If you read the notification in that light, it was logical. What sigils had he learned? One. One. One.

Kairon jumped to his feet. “ONE! IT'S ONE!” he shouted, voice echoing inside the tower. Inside, he was positively vibrating. The sigil thrummed, its black lettering sparkling a dazzling gold.

And that one? He’d already proven that it somehow interacted with the demonic plane’s interface. His interface. Just like a spreadsheet.

Give a clerk a single integer and free rein of a system.. The possibilities were… Terrifying.

Kairon’s fangs slid from his mouth, a ghastly grin taking shape on his lips.

Oh my.