Chapter 156: The Bread Repaid with a Kingdom's Feast The technologies birthed within the heart of the Lyta company were not only cutting-edge—they were decades ahead of their time, forged through forbidden alchemy, hybrid circuits, and the minds of demi-human prodigies. Among them stood warriors with Draconian lineage, and even more rare, the enigmatic backing of a Montgomery. And then, there was the impossible: they had formed an exclusive trade pact with the elusive Dwarven Kingdom, a diplomatic miracle no other faction had achieved in the past century. To Beth, this all pointed to one bewildering conclusion: Who in the hells was truly orchestrating this empire in disguise? How had such an enterprise risen in the shadows of old powers and soared past them in just a few short years? "We extend our gratitude to the honorable Lyta company for descending upon our humble town," Beth said, her voice trembling slightly as she bowed low. This was not mere courtesy. She stood before a p

Chapter 158: The Bitter Seed of Sweet SalvationThe sun hung low over the twilight-kissed rooftops of Orcus Town, casting golden threads over the revelry that pulsed through its humble streets. Laughter danced through the air, mingling with the scent of roasted meats and spiced broth. The citizens of this once-crumbling town feasted not just on food, but on hope—hope ignited by one man’s hand.That man was Elias Holloway.To the common folk, he was a savior in silk—a prodigy from the mighty Holloway family, who had descended like a storm cloaked in sunlight. To the children of Orcus, however, he was something else entirely. Not a noble. Not a warrior. But a miracle in human form.As the feast carried into dusk, one of the smaller children, no older than six or seven summers, shyly tiptoed toward Elias, her fingers clutching a cloth bundle stitched together with mismatched threads and worn patience. Her cheeks were smudged with ash, and her eyes glimmered like the riverstones of the As

Chapter 160: The Ascension of Neo Orcus — From Forgotten Dust to Lyta FlameThe answer to Elias' heartfelt question came not as a whisper or a debate, but as a quiet, collective resolve that shimmered like the embers of a long-dead forge yearning to blaze again.Orcus Town—long abandoned, discarded like a broken cog in the rusted machinery of the once-mighty Queens Dominion—had been left to rot in the shadows. No emissary from the Falcon region ever offered them a hand. No banner came to defend them. And the Golden Road, which had once pulsed like a golden artery through the realm’s trade routes, had vanished from the people’s memory like a dream faded by dawn. What was left was a skeleton of a proud town, breathing only in coughs of survival.Now, Elias—the scion of the Holloway bloodline and the spark behind the Lyta Nation—stood before them, not as a conqueror, but as a redeemer.He did not offer chains disguised as salvation. No. He offered rebirth.Food had been their first mirac

Chapter 162: The Bitter Benediction of the Earthmother's GroveIn the heart of the verdant basin nestled within the Falcon region’s southern jungle zone—where clouds stooped low to kiss tree canopies and the air thrummed with the heartbeat of mana—there thrived a grove unlike any other. A grove not merely of nature, but of divinity. Here, stretching across thousands of acres like a sea of sacred emeralds, stood towering cacao trees—called Kakao by the local beastkin, the Orc-blooded tribes who worshipped them.To the beastkin of this land, especially the fierce Orcanine and the stoic Orcupine tribes, these trees were not just flora—they were shrines. Every trunk, every pod, every single bitter seed held the breath of the Earthmother—their revered Celestial Being who once, according to ancestral lore, wept her sorrow into the soil to give rise to the first Kakao grove. These trees were her heart made manifest, and the sacred bitterness of their fruit was considered a divine test of res

Chapter 164: Offerings of Flame and Flesh – The Call to the Warring Tribes“Those roars… that’s definitely the Orcs,” Yuna declared, her voice tinged with awe and gravity.At her side stood Agnes, the ogre-blooded battle maid, renowned for brutal efficiency and unwavering composure. They approached Elias, who listened intently as the forest trembled with guttural echoes.“I’ve only heard tales,” Yuna continued, her eyes narrowed, “of how a single Orcish war-cry can ripple through a battlefield like a mana-induced shockwave. Now I understand— it’s not just sound. It’s a weapon.”Agnes nodded, gaze fixed. Neither wore a prismatic shield—an invisible barrier of lenient mana often used against sensory overload. Yet neither flinched. The echoes around them held no sway.Elias’s mana-sight pinpointed something fascinating: flickers of Fire-aspected mana at their ears, instinctively countering the Earth-element resonance of the orcish bellow—not through spells, but muscle memory. Their bodie