Chapter 76: The Bard's Distress

If anyone says their hometown's lighthouse is the greatest Wonder in the world, they certainly have never seen the Tartarus Lighthouse situated on Sage Beach. The black-gold lighthouse, standing hundreds of meters tall, emits a dazzling radiance; the World Scar on the dome and the Psychic Torch shine in mutual reflection, illuminating the area for a hundred miles around as if it were White Day.

Even at night, people on the straits of Albion Island can see the way that brilliant psionic light illuminates the entire sea area. The never-extinguishing Psychic Torch hangs high in the night sky, becoming the second sun of the shipping lanes.

That is the great power of the Wizard King Li Ang, a Great Wonder that reproduces the creations of the Subspace in the mortal realm.

Kneel before that black lighthouse; that shall surely be a light such as humanity has never seen before.

——All of the above descriptions are constructed by imagination.

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

However, even though construction has only just begun, every staff member participating in the construction already has a clear outline and concept of the lighthouse structure in their minds. Each of them is very clear about their own responsibilities and the things that need to be done.

In fact, the Star-Bearers themselves are not superior to many naturally gifted races. For example, the Sky Titans, or the Elves, or even those Dwarves. Even though the Star-Bearers have now had their genes and culture modified by Li Ang and are born already possessing pale golden Runes, capable of being an independent species, their talent is only mid-tier.

They exceed ordinary Humans, but not by much. They are merely twice as strong on average as ordinary people. However, the reason their work efficiency is completely superior is that their Souls are entirely under Li Ang's control. They can function like machines, bringing out the most exquisite aspects of every individual, fitting perfectly.

The routes are optimized, the work speed is the fastest, and everything has reached the absolute peak stage for humanity. Moreover, when creating Wonders, there is even more assistance from psionic and Subspace power.

The foundation of that black lighthouse is on the ocean, and in order to create such a Wonder, the sea has even come to a standstill.

People arrive one after another, carrying various materials, reaching the designated construction site on the silent yet walkable ocean. Terrifying Magic power fixes the space, allowing various iron ores and psionic creations to rely on mid-air. No scaffolding is needed, nor are ladders; everyone who flies and floats builds the lighthouse in space itself.

Without a doubt, this is not a Wonder that humanity could create. And the way this Wonder is built could not possibly be completed by humans. If the Maze of Tzeentch and Stonehenge are still understandable Wonders, the current Psionic Beacon is an incomprehensible creation.

"... That magnificent and fantastical creation is an object that reality could not possibly forge. They are naturally formed, without foundations, growing freely in mid-air, spreading like living things under the power of Magic.

Every Rune, every mark, that steel, gold, silver, bronze, all are smelted and fused in mid-air, then become part of that black spire. This is not a lighthouse as understood by humanity, but an unimaginable coordinate standing between illusion and reality.

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

That is the projection of the god's will in reality, the light guided for us by the master who walks among us..."

The tip of the pen writing paused for a moment; looking at the thing described, he seemed to draw a complex arc in mid-air as if troubled. He very much wanted to use his own language to describe the power, ability, and benevolence of this great person, but when it truly came down to it, he found his language so impoverished.

However, very soon, he did not need to be troubled by this aspect for the time being. Accompanied by the sound of a door opening, a gust of wind surged from the doorway, sending his roommate to his side.

The man, with a massive build and carrying some strange tools in his hand, was returning to the room, looking at the writer somewhat strangely. "Aierfu, what are you doing?"

"Oh, according to our lord's request, I am creating an epic about our people... which is to record the things that have happened here one after another."

The writer looked at the large pile of scrolls laid out in front of him and sighed with some distress.

"As you can see, I am recording, striving to describe it objectively."

"Oh, how miserable. Then I guess your tasks must be increasing day by day."

"That is indeed the case."

"By comparison, our construction team is much better off; just put the brain on standby, it's just like sleeping, close your eyes and open them and you're back to eat. Although I get hungry fast, it really feels quite wonderful. Working eight hours a day, sleeping four hours, the remaining twelve hours are just wandering around. We were counting on you to do something."

The tall roommate patted the bard on the shoulder, smiling as he hung his clothes on the rack, while he himself ran into the bathroom, humming a song and intending to take a shower, even swiping the bard's bath agent on the way.

And the former bard, now the Chosen One Aierfu, looked at the scrolls in front of him and sighed with some distress.

He was once a bard of Bretonnia, responsible for recording the demeanor of the Knights.

In fact, in Bretonnia, the status of a bard is rather subtle. They are the proclaimers responsible for spreading and praising the glorious and brilliant Knights, and also the clerks accompanying the army. They must record the words and deeds of every Knight and have them edited and bound into volumes.

In other words, apart from those who were truly gifted in literature, other bards in Bretonnia were more like clerks. It's just that compared to ordinary clerks, they needed a bit more creative talent.

Every Knight hopes that their biography and reputation can resound throughout Bretonnia, so bards are also very competitive.

Originally, he felt it was a bad job when he joined the Chivalrous Expedition, and after witnessing the Chaos pollution and the depraved conduct of the Knights, he originally thought his line of work was doomed. As it turned out, the Broken Lands really did have a god walking in the world, giving them unimaginable warmth and happiness.

Regarding everything that happened here, at first people felt shocked, but later they all got used to it. If you ask, it's the great power of Lord Li Ang, the operation of a god in the world. What is there to question about this? The rest is just recording the time, place, and then writing down some thoughts, happy every day.

As a result, this is great; the Psionic Beacon hasn't even been finished being recorded, and the Floating Warship behind is still waiting.

"What the hell are the Sea Elves thinking? Daring to provoke a true god? Didn't they see that the World Scar is a great power accomplished by a god?"

Looking at the notes piled up in front of him, the bard pulled at a strand of his hair, unable to fathom it at all.

(End of chapter)