When I claim that *Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma* has transformed me into a dictator, I assure you, this is no exaggeration. This situation arose entirely beyond my control. I had no political ambitions from the beginning. As a newcomer to Yoshifumi Hashimoto’s Rune Factory series, I entered the roleplaying game with the intention of combating monsters, befriending villagers, and engaging in some delightful farming. To be fair, I have indeed accomplished that.

Nonetheless, I have inadvertently emerged as the undisputed ruler of Azuma, overseeing the region with the backing of a fiercely loyal group of armed followers.

*Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma* showcases the consequences of inadequate disaster recovery strategies.

Situated in a fantasy realm influenced by ancient Japan, *Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma* occurs 50 years after the land was shattered in an event known as the Celestial Collapse. Since then, Azuma’s villages have experienced a decline, plagued by blighted vegetation and lacking any semblance of a functioning local government to remedy the situation.

Evidently, I am the first individual in half a century to assume any responsibility in this area.

It is against this backdrop that *Guardians of Azuma*’s amnesiac hero realizes they are an “Earth Dancer,” an individual possessing a distinctive bond with the earth and divine entities. This grants the player abilities to rejuvenate the land and restore Azuma to its former glory. I cannot deny that my Earth Dancer abilities play a crucial role in eliminating the blight, certainly aiding in the revitalization of the villages. A simple dance is sufficient to eradicate perilous flora and accelerate crop growth more efficiently than any fertilizer.

Nevertheless, I do not believe that Azuma’s remarkable revival is purely due to my mystical dances. Instead, I attribute it to the fact that I’m seemingly the first person in 50 years willing to step forward and accept responsibility in this situation.

Azuma’s villages await a hero to rescue them.

Farming games typically grant you your own small plot to cultivate, enabling you to plant crops, raise animals, and dream of a life devoid of corporate pressures. *Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma* diverges from this model by having you manage multiple “development zones” across four seasonally-themed villages, made feasible through instant fast travel. These areas serve not just for farming and animals, but also for building homes, shops, and restaurants, effectively merging agriculture with town development.

To clarify, there are already inhabitants in these villages, many of whom could have cleared the debris at any point in the last 50 years. Sure, the blighted flora does restrict the amount of usable land. Still, there is surrounding area available, along with businesses to operate, monsters to hunt, ores to extract, and many capable hands that could have alleviated the workload.

Regrettably, no one showed such initiative. Instead, the villages were abandoned for years, with the residents merely waiting for someone to come along and resolve their predicament. Apparently, that someone is me.

Fewer than 20 in-game days had passed in *Guardians of Azuma* before I had claimed all four chiefdoms, effectively making me the supreme leader of Azuma. Almost every village made me chief within days of my arrival, leveraging my relentless desire to improve their circumstances. Most villages had not even appointed a chief prior to my arrival, with no one else willing to take the mantle.

The only exception was the elderly chief Sakaki in the Spring Village, but even he was quick to resign in my favor at the first opportunity. He could have chosen a long-standing resident like teahouse owner Iroha, or the literal God of Spring, Ulalaka. Instead, he opted for a stranger with memory loss who had been squatting in the local shrine for six months after crash-landing there and damaging its roof.

“Czar of local infrastructure” was not a title on my career aspirations list.

While this speaks to his poor decision-making, it is equally a stark indictment of the other potential nominees.

I tend to min-max farming simulations, emphasizing efficiency over aesthetics without considering real-world concerns like crop rotation and ecological effects. Taking complete control over optimizing a virtual village’s agricultural strategies is very much in line with my gaming style when left unchecked. Even so, “czar of local infrastructure” was not on my career planning vision board.

*Rune Factory: Guardians of Azuma* does not confine my authoritative reach to town planning. I can also assign villagers to specific jobs, with their unique traits affecting their performance in various roles. Furthermore, I can even transfer them to an entirely different village if, for instance, their Cheerful disposition would yield better results when managing a store in the Summer Village than