The Barrens.
Here, there is no time, no space, no up, down, or four cardinal directions.
All laws of physics hold no meaning here.
The moment Lacey's physical body entered this void, it began to disintegrate, returning to the purest conceptual level.
He no longer possessed sight, hearing, or touch, yet he could "perceive" everything.
His consciousness—tempered by [United We Stand] and carrying the convictions of the entire Terra Community—tenaciously maintained its own existence.
In this ocean of concepts, he perceived countless shattered "Echoes."
Those were fragments of Terra's history, devoured by the Demons and dissolved by "Nothingness."
He saw the former monarch of Sargon, "Shah" Lugalszargus, and the Nightzmoran Khagan, Kharandukhan, raising their armies together to march south and battle the Demons. The Demons' explosions turned the vast rainforests of southern Sargon into wind-swept lands with an extremely harsh environment.
He saw the elites of Yan marching to the Yan Astronomical Bureau to slaughter the Demons; he saw the coalition legions formed by the Sami tribes, stationed year-round at the fortress defense lines of the Winter Tooth Mountains to fight the Demons; he saw the Northern Border of Ursus, where the Emperor's Blades used the "Will of Ursus" as a concept to contend against the Demons.
These were the forgotten scars of Terra, the wreckage left behind after reality was gnawed away. Because of the nature of the Demons, they could not be known to the outside world.
Just as Lacey's consciousness explored this void, a magnificent yet decaying conceptual entity slowly emerged before him.
It was a towering palace—Pavillon.
Its silhouette flickered constantly, as if it would be assimilated by the darkness at any moment, yet it stubbornly held on, emitting a faint radiance of Arts belonging to Leithanien's Golden Age.
The gates of the palace opened silently, and a solitary figure sat high upon the throne.
He wore a tattered crown, and his splendid robes had long since faded, yet that arrogance and loneliness that looked down upon the world penetrated the barriers of concept.
That was the Witch King, Herkunftshorn.
Or rather, it was his remaining obsession and Echo.
"You have come," the Witch King's Echo made no sound, but his thoughts resonated directly within Lacey's consciousness. "A madman more crazy than I, and more successful than I."
Lacey's consciousness condensed into a blurred humanoid figure of light as he looked toward the Witch King.
"You have used the existence of an entire civilization as a weapon, turning the hopes of billions of living beings into an anchor," the Witch King's Echo continued.
"I once attempted to gather the concept of Leithanien into myself, to cast towers that would never fall. But I was wrong. My concept was too narrow, too self-absorbed. It originated from me, and it ended with me. Once I was shaken, the entire tower would collapse. But you..."
A look of genuine respect appeared on the Witch King's face. "Your concept, the Terra Community... its foundation is every inch of soil, every life on that land. It is not a tower belonging to you alone, but a dam built jointly by everyone. Magnificent, solid, and almost... eternal."
He slowly stood up from the throne. The dilapidated palace, Pavillon, began to tremble violently, countless fragments of concept peeling off it and dissipating into nothingness.
"I have supported this place for decades, using my remaining will to oppose the erosion of 'Nothingness,' guarding Leithanien from being encroached upon. Now, my mission is complete."
The Witch King's Echo extended his hand. A tinder condensed from pure conceptual power formed in his palm. That was all the power remaining of him as the Witch King, as the symbol of an era of Leithanien.
"The nature of the Demons is erasure; they will constantly attempt to disintegrate your concept. Your 'Terra Community,' though grand, has only just been cast; its cornerstone is not yet stable. Use this, my final embers, to repair it, to consolidate it, to make it... perfect."
The Witch King's Echo pushed that fire of concept toward Lacey.
Lacey did not hesitate. His consciousness extended a hand and accepted this gift.
In an instant, majestic power flooded into Lacey's core of consciousness.
That was the glory belonging to the Witch King's era, the pinnacle of Leithanien's Arts, and a profound understanding of "Existence."
This power, like a hundred rivers returning to the sea, merged perfectly into the concept of the "Terra Community."
The cracks that had originally formed due to the forceful stripping away of emotions were rapidly repaired, and the structure of the entire concept became stable and harmonious as never before.
Lacey felt his connection to Terra become even tighter.
He could clearly "see" that in the distant real world, Vina was signing a document, Gertrude was calmly analyzing intelligence, Serafina was teaching children, and Maenner was planning a new industrial zone...
Every person's life, every person's conviction, turned into a wisp of glimmering light, flowing into his colossal conceptual system, becoming a part of the dam.
"Very good."
The Witch King's Echo watched all of this, revealing a relieved smile. His figure began to turn transparent, and the palace Pavillon behind him also dissolved into speckles of starlight.
"Go. In this Barrens, cast your throne.
"Use the mountains and rivers of Terra as the pedestal, use the thousand-year history of Terra as the skeleton, use the splendid culture of Terra as the carving, and use the common expectations of the people of Terra as the canopy.
"Let it become an eternal lighthouse, guarding this place.
"Remember, in the depths of this Barrens, the true bodies of those Demons are still prying. They will be like the tide, beating against your dam without ceasing, trying to find a single crack. This is a war with no end, no victory or defeat, only existence and extinction.
"You shall be the eternal watcher."
The Witch King's figure dissipated completely, and Pavillon turned into a final stream of light, merging into Lacey's consciousness.
Lacey's consciousness floated in the center of the void.
He began to mobilize that incomparably grand conceptual power.
He used the vast snowy plains of Ursus and the permafrost of Sami as the pedestal, symbolizing resilience and guardianship.
He used the endless mountain ranges of Yan and the great rivers traversing the earth as the backrest, symbolizing weight and heritage.
He used the industrial gears of Victoria and the commercial networks of Columbia as the armrests, symbolizing creation and connection.
He used the knightly spirit of Kazimierz and the family glory of Siracusa as the carvings, branding these ancient cultural symbols upon it.
Finally, he transformed the art of Leithanien into the canopy of the throne, within which shone the common expectations of billions of Terran people for peace, prosperity, and the future.
An unparalleled "Conceptual Throne" took shape within the Barrens.
Lacey's consciousness drifted slowly toward the throne, finally sitting upon it.
The moment he sat down, his consciousness and the conceptual defense system of the entire Terra Community merged thoroughly into one.
He was no longer Lacey, the son of a music teacher from a border town.
He became a symbol, a concept, an eternal anchor.
He cast his gaze toward the depths of the Barrens. In that endless darkness, countless indescribable malices were surging—the true bodies of the Demons that had sensed the birth of the new throne.
An eternal war had begun.
And he would be the final line of defense for the civilization of Terra, one that would never fall.
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