Lords: From Civilization to the Stars

If someone says that the lighthouse in their hometown is the greatest wonder in the world, then they have definitely not seen the Tartarus Lighthouse located on the Sage Beach. The black and gold lighthouse, hundreds of meters high, emits dazzling light. The World Wound on the dome and the psychic torch complement each other, illuminating the area of ​​100 miles as if it were daytime.

Even at night, people can see the bright psychic lights illuminating the entire sea area in the strait of Orbian Island. The ever-lasting psychic torch hangs high in the night sky, becoming the second sun of the route.

That is the great power of the wizard king Leon, and it is a great wonder that reproduces the creation of the subspace in the world.

Kneel down to the black lighthouse, it must be a light that mankind has never seen before.

——The above description is all constructed by imagination.

In fact, the Tartarus Lighthouse has just begun to be built.

However, even if it has just started to be built, all the staff involved in the construction have a clear outline and concept of the lighthouse building in their minds. Each of them is very clear about their responsibilities and what they need to do.

In fact, the Negative Stars themselves are not better than many races with unique talents. For example, the Sky Titans, or the elves, or even the dwarves. Even though the Negative Stars have been transformed by Leon in terms of genes and culture, and have been born with pale golden runes, they can already be independent as a population, but their talents are only in the middle.

They are better than ordinary humans, but not by much. They are only twice as strong as ordinary people on average. However, the reason why their work efficiency is completely superior is that their souls are completely under Leon's control. They can play the most exquisite parts of each person like a machine, and fit perfectly.

The route is the most optimized, the working speed is the fastest, and everything has reached the peak stage of human beings. And when creating wonders, there will be psychic energy and subspace power to assist.

The foundation of the black lighthouse is on the ocean, and in order to create such a wonder, the ocean even stagnated.

People came one after another, holding various materials, and arrived at the designated construction site on the silent and walkable ocean. The terrifying magic power fixed the space, allowing various iron ores and psychic creations to rely on the air. No scaffolding or ladders are needed. Every person flying and floating builds a lighthouse in the space itself.

Undoubtedly, this is not a wonder that humans can create. And the way this wonder is built cannot be completed by humans. If the ever-changing maze and Stonehenge are still understandable wonders, the current psychic lighthouse is an incomprehensible creation.

"...The magnificent and fantastic creations are impossible to create in reality. They are natural, without foundation, growing freely in the air, and spreading like living things under the power of psychic energy.

Every symbol, every mark, those steel, gold, silver, and bronze are smelted and fused in the air, and then become part of the black spire. This is not a lighthouse in human cognition, but an unimaginable coordinate standing between fantasy and reality.

Within this coordinate range, whether it is the subspace or reality, no matter what level of the world, you can feel the scorching fire.

That is the projection of the will of the gods in reality, and the light that our walking master guides us..."

The pen tip paused, looking at the description, and seemed to be distressed as it drew a complex arc in the air. He wanted to use his own language to describe the power, ability, and kindness of this great man, but when it really came to the point, he found that his language was so poor.

But soon, he didn't need to worry about this for the time being. With the sound of a door opening, a gust of wind rushed in from the door and brought his roommate to his side.

The huge man with some strange props in his hands was returning to the room, looking at the writer strangely.

"Elver, what are you doing?"

"Oh, according to the request of our lord, I am writing an epic about our nation... that is, recording what happened here one by one."

The writer looked at the pile of scrolls in front of him and sighed in distress.

"As you can see, I'm recording, trying to describe it objectively."

"Oh, that's miserable. Then I guess your tasks must be getting more and more every day."

"Indeed."

"Compared to that, our construction team is much better. The brain is managed, just like sleeping. You can come back to eat as soon as you close your eyes and open them again. Although you get hungry quickly, it feels really wonderful. You work eight hours a day, sleep four hours, and the remaining twelve hours are spent wandering around. We still expect you to do something."

The tall roommate patted the bard's shoulder, hung his clothes on the hanger with a smile, and ran to the bathroom, humming a song to take a bath, and also sprayed the bard's bath spray.

The former bard, now the chosen one, Elver, looked at the scroll in front of him and sighed in distress.

He used to be a bard in Bretonnia, responsible for recording the demeanor of the knights.

In fact, in Bretonnia, the status of bards is more delicate. They are the readers responsible for spreading and praising the knights' glory, and they are also the recorders accompanying the army. They must record the words and deeds of every knight, and then edit and bind them into a book.

In other words, except for those who are truly talented, other bards in Bretonnia are more like clerks. It's just that compared to ordinary clerks, they need a little more creative talent.

Every knight hopes that his biography and reputation can resound throughout Bretonnia, so bards are also very inward-looking.

Originally, he felt that it was a bad luck when he participated in the chivalrous expedition. After witnessing the pollution of chaos and the depravity of the knights, he thought that his trip was more likely to be bad. Unexpectedly, there was really a god walking in the world in the Broken Land, giving them unimaginable warmth and happiness.

People were shocked at first about what happened here, but later they got used to it. You ask about the power of Lord Leon and the operation of the living gods. What's there to question?

The rest is to record the time and place, and then write down your thoughts, and be happy every day.

As a result, this time, the psychic lighthouse has not been recorded yet, and the floating battleship behind is still waiting.

"What the hell are the sea elves thinking? How dare they provoke a true god? Don't they see that the Wound of the World is a great power accomplished by the gods?"

Looking at the notes piled in front of him, the bard pulled a strand of hair, puzzled.