The death of the One-Eyed Man caused surprisingly little trouble. The Bird family simply turned a blind eye to the misfortune that had befallen the poor wretch—after all, the garrison captain was already due to be relieved of his post and dismissed. His death had saved them the cost of severance pay, which was no bad thing. The residents of Emerald Town, meanwhile, cheered loudly from the sidelines. As the saying went, *a crooked beam breeds a crooked lintel*—if the son was a scoundrel, the father could not be much better. The One-Eyed Man and his son had long had a terrible reputation in Emerald Town, so his death was widely regarded as well-deserved. Many even thought he had brought it upon himself for daring to draw his sword against a High-Rank Swordsman and lord. That was nothing short of suicidal.
The garrison soldiers of Emerald Town, however, proved somewhat of a handful. Despite the One-Eyed Man's poor reputation, he had commanded a certain degree of authority among his men. With his sudden death, the garrison was thrown into immediate disarray. Fortunately, Blake and Ophelia had anticipated this turn of events, so they promptly pushed Kaster to the fore. Kaster had originally served in the elite patrol unit of the Bird family's inner domain and had quite a few connections in Emerald Town. Thus, he quickly stepped into the role of Garrison Commander-in-Chief, promoted an honest and upright vice-captain from the Emerald Town Garrison to take charge of the men, and restored order.
As for the refugees, after consulting with Keith, Blake decided to let them remain in Emerald Town for a few more days. After all, many of them had fallen ill during their ordeal, and he had no intention of letting those diseases spread to Twilight Forest. At the very least, he wanted to dispatch doctors to examine them, isolate the sick, and bring the outbreak under control before moving them. Of course, Blake also made sure to provide the refugees with food—he had bought these slaves to work, after all, and what use were a bunch of emaciated wretches who could barely stand, let alone labor?
By now, almost everyone regarded the young lord as their savior. This was especially true of the refugees. Though Blake's demeanor toward them was far from warm—bordering on cold, in fact—his actions had put their minds completely at ease. The simple fact that he had dared to kill a Westeran garrison captain to defend them had skyrocketed their trust in him. The weak always longed to follow a strong protector who could shield them from harm, and this was doubly true for these displaced, homeless refugees.
Even Keith had profited handsomely from the deal. The transaction with Blake had not only allowed him to pay off all his previous debts but also left him with a tidy profit. Moreover, Blake had subsequently entrusted him with purchasing grain and various materials, letting the slave merchant earn a generous commission on the side. As for Kaster, needless to say, the moment Blake appointed him Garrison Commander-in-Chief, he understood the hidden meaning behind the title. He was so overcome with excitement that he shed tears, more convinced than ever that he had made the right choice in pledging his loyalty. The position of Garrison Commander-in-Chief gave him control over all the garrison forces in the territory—a rank that meant little in the eyes of the nobility, but was considered extremely prestigious by commoners. What was more, the territories under his command included Emerald Town and two other prosperous settlements located right along the Golden Trade Route. While he would never dare to embezzle funds under the watchful eye of his lord, the "gray income" from the trade route alone would be more than enough to make him a wealthy man. To top it all off, Blake had informed him that he would be sending two High-Rank Swordsmen to assist him. Kaster was well aware that these two were also there to keep an eye on him, but that did nothing to dampen his elation. Throughout the entire Kingdom of Wester, there was no other garrison captain who could claim to command two High-Rank Swordsmen under his banner.
All in all, the entire affair had been resolved perfectly, to the satisfaction of everyone involved.
Meanwhile, the people of Twilight Town were experiencing something they had never imagined possible.
Several days earlier, the townsfolk had noticed numerous shipments of stone being hauled into the area and piled up near the town. At the time, they had paid little mind to it. After all, ever since Blake had become their lord, he had carried out countless projects—repairing roads, reorganizing the town layout, and so on. The townsfolk had simply assumed that their lord was planning yet another construction project in the town. But their perception changed dramatically after the old mayor was summoned to the castle. When the mayor returned, he had gathered all the townsfolk with a strange look on his face and announced a decree from their lord: the residents must pack their belongings and temporarily leave the town within two days. The reason? A large group of people would soon be arriving to settle there, and Twilight Town, in its current state, was clearly unable to accommodate such a population. Thus, the lord had made a decision: the entire town would be torn down and rebuilt from scratch.
Upon hearing this order, the townsfolk stared in stunned disbelief. Rebuild the town? By the grace of the saints, was their lord joking? True, Blake had brought many benefits to the town since his arrival, but this was a different matter entirely. At that moment, the residents would have much preferred the young lord impose heavy taxes on them, or even seize all their harvested grain, rather than force them out of their homes.
The decree immediately sparked resentment among the townsfolk. They had lived here for generations, and the thought of being forced to leave their familiar hometown and the houses they had built was simply unbearable. A crowd quickly gathered, intent on marching to the castle to protest—but what the old mayor said next left them completely dumbfounded. According to the mayor, their lord was willing to compensate each family with fifty gold coins. Furthermore, he would reserve a house for each of them in the newly built town. What was more, his only requirement was that they spend a single night away—they could return to the town and take up residence in their new homes the very next day.
What kind of madness was this?
The townsfolk exchanged bewildered glances, half-convinced they were dreaming. But the gold coins that were promptly distributed to them made them hesitate. Fifty gold coins was equivalent to several years' worth of income—enough to buy a decent house even in the larger cities. While some were still reluctant to leave their ancestral homes, in the end, none could resist the allure of such a fortune.
"Is everything ready?"
Standing on the castle balcony, Blake stared down at the town below and asked. The town was completely deserted. Earlier that noon, he had dispatched the Wraith Warriors to assist the residents with their evacuation. Of course, there were a few who, despite taking the gold, had planned to sneak back and spy on their lord's intentions. But such petty attempts at hiding were no match for the Wraith Warriors. Under Judy's leadership, it had taken only the afternoon to ensure that every last resident had left the town.
Now, Twilight Town stood empty and silent. Piles of massive stone blocks and timber lay stacked along both sides of the main road, giving the place the appearance of a construction site—with one crucial difference: there were no tools to be seen, nor any workers present.
"I just received word from Lady Judy," Ophelia replied softly, standing beside Blake. "She has secured all the roads leading into the town and made sure no one can enter."
Thanks to the natural barriers surrounding the area, it would be impossible for anyone to sneak back in, even if they tried. What was more, Judy and the others had now fully regained their strength as knights. Ordinary townsfolk, who were not even trained soldiers, stood no chance of evading their watchful eyes.
Yet, despite her calm expression, Ophelia seemed somewhat listless. As she gazed down at the town, a flicker of nostalgia and reluctance crossed her eyes.
To most people, Twilight Town was a desolate, sparsely populated backwater. But to the former princess, its tranquil, idyllic atmosphere—far removed from the chaos of the outside world—was a source of profound comfort. Having grown up in the bustling, opulent royal capital, she had long grown weary of the endless scheming and empty pageantry. In contrast, Twilight Town had always brought her a sense of inner peace. Thus, watching the town she had grown to love be torn down and transformed before her eyes filled her with a quiet sadness. Still, she knew deep down that this was merely a moment of weakness, a fleeting fit of sentimentality. She closed her eyes briefly, then pushed the feeling aside, resolute as ever.
As she thought this, Ophelia found herself glancing at Charlotte, who stood faithfully at Blake's side as always, her expression unchanged. But what truly worried Ophelia were the twin sisters. Ever since returning from the Midsummer Festival, the two girls had locked themselves in their rooms, claiming they needed to sleep. But they had not been seen since. Ophelia could not help but fret over them. She even began to wonder if letting the young twins fight at the festival had somehow damaged their health. When she had voiced her concerns to Blake, however, he had merely smiled calmly, as if he had been expecting this all along.
"They'll come out once they've had their fill of sleep," he had said.
Faced with Blake's words, Ophelia had no choice but to accept them with resignation. Though, truth be told, she did not entirely believe him. Still...
What Ophelia failed to realize was that every flicker of emotion on her face had not escaped Blake's notice. Despite her best efforts to maintain her usual composure, he could not help but chuckle inwardly at her momentary softness.
Girls would be girls, he thought to himself, amused. They always grew sentimental over the silliest little things—even someone as strong-willed as Ophelia was not immune to it.
With a faint smile, Blake raised his hand and gently brushed his fingers over a plain white ring on his right index finger. A soft, warm white light immediately began to glow from the ring, and a moment later, a silver sphere wrapped in glowing runes materialized out of thin air before them. This was the gift the Artificial Spirit had left for Blake. Through this ring, he could communicate with the Spirit at the heart of the Source Converter at any time, anywhere. He could even use it to teleport himself directly back to the center of the Source Converter—instantaneously, though it consumed an enormous amount of mana and was limited by a certain maximum range.
"How may I assist you, Master?" the Artificial Spirit's gentle voice echoed out from the sphere.
"Activate the Möbius Loop. Summon a city."
After several days of study, Blake had gained a solid grasp of how to operate the Source Converter. At his command, the Artificial Spirit fell silent for a moment, then the light surrounding it flared to life. A moment later, countless images and lines of text floated in the air before Blake—most of them depicting various cities.
Thanks to several days of accumulation, the Source Converter now contained nearly eighty to ninety thousand units of mana. But creating an entire city was an astronomically expensive endeavor. Blake had already reviewed the data on summoning buildings earlier. Aside from powerful magical artifacts, cities were by far the most mana-intensive constructs to summon. The cost of building even a small town was staggering—ranging from hundreds of thousands to millions of units of mana. The sheer numbers had made Blake's head spin.
Fortunately, Blake had no intention of turning Twilight Forest into a sprawling metropolis with a population of millions. In fact, given his personality, even a city of ten thousand would have felt too crowded for him. To Blake, Twilight Forest was merely his base of operations—a safe haven where he could ensure his territory would not be overrun by enemies. The thought of expanding outward, amassing more subjects and territory, filled him with nothing but a sense of weary dread. Thus, he had approached the task of choosing a city with a clear set of criteria in mind: he only wanted to transform Twilight Town into a small, compact city capable of accommodating around a thousand people at most. Unsurprisingly, this drastically reduced the amount of mana the Source Converter would need to expend.
By now, Blake had also learned of two different methods for using the Source Converter. The first was the one he had employed to summon the natural barriers: a one-time, massive expenditure of mana to complete the construction instantly. The second method involved splitting the total mana cost into smaller daily increments, using the device to build the structure gradually over time. This approach required significantly less mana upfront but took much longer to complete. In short, the first method prioritized speed, while the second prioritized resource efficiency. The same principle applied to summoning cities. If Blake had access to millions of units of mana, he could summon a metropolis capable of housing a million people in the blink of an eye. But since he did not have that kind of mana reserve, he would have to build the city in stages instead—first constructing the core infrastructure and framework with the minimal amount of resources required, then leaving the rest to be completed later once the Source Converter had replenished its mana stores.
If he had not known this, Blake would never have bothered buying a thousand slaves—he would have ended up with a thousand mouths to feed and no place to put them, effectively leaving them to fend for themselves in the forest like animals.
Now, hundreds of different cities of varying sizes floated before Blake's eyes. Even Ophelia found herself dazzled by the sheer variety—one city was a magnificent, towering castle of gleaming gold; another was a picturesque water town, serene and elegant as a painting. For a moment, she was completely overwhelmed by the choices before her. If she could have, she would have summoned every single one of them just to admire them.
But while the choice was agonizingly difficult for Ophelia, it was crystal clear for Blake. He had a very specific goal in mind.
First and foremost, he ruled out any cities focused primarily on magic. Blake himself was not a mage. Though he bore no ill will toward mages, he had no desire to build a city where they would overshadow him and his knights. He also dismissed any magical metropolises that required a constant supply of mana to function. He had seen enough of those during his time in the Mage's Guild—their mana consumption was astronomical, and even with cost reductions, it would still be far too high for his medium-sized Source Converter to sustain. Summoning a magical metropolis would certainly be convenient, but if its daily mana requirements drained the Source Converter dry, the entire city would grind to a halt. What was more, the city might need to expand in the future—and if it grew to the point where the Source Converter could no longer meet its energy needs, the whole project would collapse in on itself.
Blake had once used a similar tactic to force a magical metropolis to shut down by overloading its mana core during a long-ago war. He had no intention of repeating that same mistake himself. Besides, magical cities often produced large amounts of polluting magical exhaust—a side effect Blake had no desire to deal with.
While he would have preferred a city that was well-rounded and could meet all his needs, the resource costs of such cities were simply beyond his current means. True, there were several cities that balanced offense, defense, magic, and martial prowess perfectly—but all of them required vast quantities of rare and expensive resources to build their foundational infrastructure.
Naturally, cities that required crystal mines, gemstone veins, or other costly minerals were also immediately eliminated from Blake's list. Though he had a fair amount of money at his disposal, he could afford to splurge on stone, timber, and grain—not on rare minerals. If he tried to buy enough gemstones to build a magical city, he would be reduced to a penniless beggar in an instant. His current fortune was not nearly enough to buy even a single ton of gemstone ore—pursuing that path was nothing short of a pipe dream.
This drastically narrowed down his options.
The bright red sun was sinking rapidly toward the horizon, and the dark curtain of night was beginning to stretch across the sky. Still, Blake's eyes scanned the remaining options—cities that could be built with limited resources—carefully, methodically.
*Exodar... Silvermoon City... Waterdeep... Amn...* No, no, none of these met his requirements.
*Undercity... Stormwind Keep... What is this wheel-shaped thing? Sigil? That isn't even built on land.* Blake frowned, crossing more options off his list.
*Ishgard... Leigong City... Is there really no better choice?*
Finally, Blake's gaze came to rest on a city dominated by dark, somber hues.
It was a very peculiar-looking city. Its walls were noticeably shorter than those of the other cities, but what caught Blake's eye was their extraordinary width and the ingenious design of their structure—gentle, sloping ramps extended behind the high walls, curving smoothly downward to blend seamlessly with the ground. Inside the city, the ground was solid and level, with rows of neat, beautiful houses interspersed among lush trees. Though the city itself was not particularly large, its layout created an illusion of immense scale. Clear streams of spring water meandered through the streets, flanked by verdant trees, lending the city an atmosphere of profound peace and tranquility. The dark Gothic architecture gave it an air of subtle mystery, as if it belonged to a realm beyond the mundane world...
**Valhalla, City of Heroes**: The glory of fallen souls lingers within these walls, watching over the world for eternity from the threshold between life and death. The honor and dignity of the departed burn like a brilliant flame, illuminating the darkening sky.
Reading the description, not only Blake but also Ophelia and Charlotte froze in surprise. Like all the other city descriptions, it provided no specific details about the city's functions—but there was something about it that resonated deeply with all three of them.
"What do you two think?"
Blake did not make his decision immediately. He stared at the image of the city, lost in thought for a long moment before finally asking.
"I think... it's a beautiful city, Master," Charlotte replied with a soft smile. "Looking at it makes me feel very... at peace."
"I feel the same way," Ophelia nodded in agreement. But then she frowned, considering the matter from a more practical standpoint. "However, its walls do seem rather short. Will that not pose a problem for its defenses?"
"No problem at all," Blake said, pressing his finger against the image. A flood of information about the city immediately flowed into his mind. He blinked in surprise, then his eyes narrowed as he studied the seemingly low walls, the arrow towers positioned nearby, and the gaps between them. A satisfied smile spread across his face.
"This is the one!"
As Blake spoke, the images of the cities floating in the air flickered for a moment, then vanished entirely. At the same time, the light emanating from the Artificial Spirit's sphere dimmed and disappeared. The last rays of sunlight slipped below the horizon, and the dark night sky descended over the entire land, ushering in a brand-new night.
Inside the castle, everything was plunged into complete darkness.
Then, hundreds of streams of soft silver light erupted from beneath the castle, flowing down the hillside like a rushing river. They converged at the center of the town—and a moment later, a brilliant, blinding silver light exploded outward from the epicenter. At the same time, the ground began to tremble gently once more.
What happened next was something no one present would ever forget.
Wherever the silver light touched, the entire town began to crumble and dissolve. The dilapidated houses, the stone statues, even the very earth itself—everything was erased as if swept away by an invisible hand. The stone walls shattered into countless fragments, the paved roads vanished without a trace, and even the trees surrounding the town snapped and fell to the ground as if struck by an unseen force...
A violent storm erupted out of nowhere.