Chater 186: Echoes Beneath the Falcon Ridge  --- The two Orcs froze mid-motion the moment they realized their grave mistake. Their hands, once glowing with raw earthen mana, stopped trembling in rhythm, and the sound that had been shaking the ground beneath them ceased as if the forest itself held its breath. For a long, strange heartbeat, the world seemed caught between silence and resonance. Had they continued separately—each performing their tribal rites steeped in pride and animosity—nothing unusual would have occurred. The land would have swallowed their songs, and the winds would have carried the remnants of their chants away like dust in the breeze. But this time… This time, their hearts had momentarily beat in sync. Their breaths had aligned. Their chants overlapped.&nbs

Chapter 188 – Nectar of the Earth: The Bitterness that Burns into Power Elias stared at the glowing notification hovering before his eyes, a faint smile curving at the corners of his mouth. The little message confirmed his theory—the two rival tribes, Orcanine and Orcupine, were better together than apart. The thought made something warm coil in his chest, a sense of strategic delight disguised as altruism. If these thick-headed warriors continued their so-called rituals and competitive shouting matches, the forest would remain a battlefield of noise. Their ceaseless chants already sounded like thunder rolling through the night, a cacophony that could deprive anyone within a kilometer of sleep or sanity. But united under one banner? If they started seeing each other as brothers rather than ancient enemies, they might just grow into something greater than even they imagined. After all, mana thrived on connecti

Chapter 190: The Song of Earth and Flesh The idea had taken root in Elias’s mind like a glowing seed of ambition—steady, luminous, impossible to ignore. Each time he watched the Orc tribes of Neo Orcus move, fight, and laugh with their ridiculous guttural charm, that seed pulsed brighter. The more he thought about it, the clearer the vision became: they had to become his people. Citizens. Protectors. Foundations of his new world. He could already imagine it—if the Orc tribes were absorbed into his growing Nation, their raw bodies and primitive rituals could be refined, reshaped through mana synchronization. They’d no longer be wild survivors living in mud and myth, but structured conduits of magical resonance. Their shared ability, that crude [Sugar Rush] spell of theirs, was laughably limited right now—only amping the Earth element’s mana flow. But Elias, the eter

  Chapter 192 — The Dawn of Foundations Complete The sound of hammers and churning gears had finally faded into silence. The grand construction of Neo Orcus — Elias’s subterranean city of light and shadow — had reached its long-awaited conclusion. What once was a maze of scaffolds and blueprint-scrolls now stood as a breathtaking marvel of architecture and mana engineering. Towers of polished obsidian, infused with faint streams of luminescent runes, gleamed under the eternal glow of enchanted orbs. A faint hum of magic resonated through the air, giving the entire city a heartbeat of its own. Elias stood at the highest terrace, arms crossed, watching the vista spread beneath him — the city alive and breathing. The locals of Neo Orcus, once wanderers without a true home, now walked streets paved with radiant sigils, their laughter echoing through freshly carved avenu

 C194 – Procession Through the Falcon Region The steel serpent of Lyta’s railway glided through the heart of the Falcon region, its polished body gleaming beneath the midmorning sun. Elias sat by the window, his reflection splitting across the glass as the landscape blurred into golden lines. Everywhere his eyes turned, the emblem of his creation—the Lyta sigil—shone like a second sun. Billboards, banners, shop signs, even toys clutched by children bore that same sigil: a pair of intertwined rings encasing a flicker of light. He hadn’t expected to see it so prevalent here, especially not in the Dwarven Kingdom—a territory long known for its suspicion, even disgust, toward humans. Yet now those same dwarves paraded his name with reverence, their thick fingers gripping Lyta flags, their voices chanting as though invoking a saint. Jimmy, ever the journalist, sat slack-jawed. “E