In Vesha’s eyes, he no longer looked like a re young man, but a monarch addressing his people—steady, composed, and filled with the kind of authority that cald even the most anxious hearts. And yet, none of his words ca as a shock to her. She already knew him.
This wasn’t the first ti he had called ordinary people to stand against a Spark. The first had been before the fight with the Aqualith.
Back then, he had used a similar approach, convincing Draven knights that they could face Spark-level threats. With only the right gear and the right motivation, they had successfully taken down the water slis.
Now, it was happening again. The scale was larger, the stakes higher—but the pattern was the sa. And Vesha couldn’t help the excitent rising in her chest. She already knew how this would end.
She had never heard of mortals defeating a Spark in all of history. But what she was witnessing now felt like the beginning of a new Chapter in Velari’s story.
’’Now I will explain and give you a simple demonstration of what I expect you to do and what you will do.’’
Adyr’s voice cut clean through the ambient tension, reclaiming the crowd’s full attention.
Everyone watched him in silence, eyes locked onto his figure, absorbing every word, every movent.
He began by explaining Colossith’s feeding behavior—why the Spark attacked the city every six months. Its body emitted low-frequency vibrations, feeding off the feedback that bounced back from nearby structures. The more rapid and concentrated the feedback, the quicker it felt satiated—and the sooner it retreated.
This was common knowledge. But repetition brought clarity. The more clearly they understood what needed to be done and why, the more precise their work would be.
Next, Adyr introduced the tallic plates. He explained their heightened sensitivity to vibrations and their reflective properties.
As the explanation unfolded, even the knights, King Vale, and the Lords shared a mont of silent realization. Only now did they truly understand what the equipnt was for—and more importantly, that it might actually work.
Similar strategies had been proposed in the past. But no one in the kingdom had ever possessed materials or technology that could make such tactics feasible. The outer city walls had been the closest attempt, acting as partial reflectors. But they crumbled too quickly, collapsing under the weight of returning shockwaves, and only drove Colossith deeper into the city in search of more.
Then ca the drills and the nails. The nails looked ordinary at first glance, though their shape was slightly different and the material far sturdier than anything the people of Velari were used to, designed to pierce even tal-hard surfaces. But it was the battery-powered electric drills that truly left everyone speechless.
Most had never seen anything like them. They didn’t look like tools. They looked like magic.
Once they understood how each component functioned, Adyr pointed to the stacks of wooden beams prepared beside them. He didn’t even need to explain further. The workers, hand-picked for their experience and skills, already knew what needed to be done.
’’Lord Adyr, we promise we will give you the best work of our lives.’’
The voice ca from one of the carpenters, his words loud with emotion.
Others followed, their voices rising in agreent. Excitent surged among them like a wave.
The doubt was gone. They truly believed it now—that with their mortal hands, they could stand against a Spark.
And when they looked at the young practitioner who made it possible, they no longer saw a distant figure of power. They saw sothing else—soone who had given them purpose, soone who had handed them bread and water in a ti of famine. The kind of reverence reserved not for strength, but for salvation.
’’I have no doubt about your skills. Now go ahead and save your one and only kingdom.’’
Adyr stepped aside. His part was done. He had no reason to move another finger.
The workers sprang into motion. They laid the beams, assembled the fras, mounted the titanium alloy plates, and secured them in place. When tools fell short, they filled the gaps with years of hard-won experience, solving problems on the fly with practiced ease.
Ideas bounced around as they worked. They fine-tuned angles, discussed alignnt, and made adjustnts so precise that even Adyr found himself quietly impressed.
His original plan had been simple: individual setups, one plate per fra, transported near Colossith. Instead, the workers were building an entire wall—one massive reflective surface.
Their reasoning was sound. The larger the surface, the greater the vibration it could receive and return.
And it wasn’t just the workers. The knights carried beams and hauled tal sheets, galloping across the grounds when supplies were short. Every hand had its role.
Even King Vale and the Lords understood what was needed from them. They moved through the crowd, giving clear orders, streamlining the chaos into efficiency.
Adyr sat on a chair so distance away, reading through every recorded docunt the Velari Kingdom’s Astra Church had on practitioners and Sparks. Beside him, on a separate table, sat a small stack of rare volus brought in from the king’s private library—while Vesha waited silently at his side, poised like a loyal maid.
I should find skilled laborers for Dawn Land.
The thought drifted across his mind as he glanced at the workers, moving like a colony of ants—fast, organized, and relentless.
Dawn Land was still small. But one day it would grow. And when that day ca, he would need people to keep it running. People like these.
The hours passed. As the golden sun that had lit the skies and ward the ground slowly faded, it left behind a stark monochro—the world sinking into shades of black and white. King Vale approached with steady, unhurried steps.
"Lord Adyr, we are done."
There was a flicker of childlike excitent in his expression, barely restrained impatience threading his voice. The dried streaks of soil and splashes of mud on his once-formal garnts marked that he, too, had worked with his hands. His face was drawn, his breath uneven, but his eyes burned with a strange vitality, as if exhaustion had only sharpened his focus.
"Thank you for your work." Adyr finally turned his gaze from Colossith’s distant silhouette, which he had been studying in silence, and looked toward the colossal structure standing before him.
Yes. This was no re assembly. It was a construct. A towering wall, forged from 250 interlocked plates of hardened, elastic alloy, its surface gleaming like liquid tal. The way it caught the fading light made it resemble solar panels, the kind once used to store sunlight.
Every worker, every knight, now stood before their masterpiece, looking at Adyr with the expectant faces of children waiting for praise.
"Well done. It turned out even better than I imagined. You’ve done good work." A small smile appeared on his face.
With those words, the tension in their expressions faded. His approval—calm and final—confird that the long hours they had poured into the project hadn’t been wasted. It settled sothing inside each of them.
King Vale stepped forward, anticipation in his voice. "What’s next, Lord Adyr?"
"Next..." Adyr’s gaze shifted to the massive ape still holding Colossith in place, its limbs beginning to tremble from strain. He spoke slowly, each word deliberate.
"Let’s show them what you’re capable of."
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