Construction Site

Thirty kilometers northwest of the imperial capital's urban district.

At a vast construction site, hundreds of thousands of workers bustled about, hard at work.

At the foot of an earthen hill in the northern part of the construction site was another rather unusual group of "workers," around a hundred of them, each handling their assigned tasks.

Conan Cecil was one of those hundred.

He stood beneath a dirt wall over two meters high.

Facing a patch of yellow earth on the wall, Conan Cecil extended both hands. Blue light lit up in his palms, which he thrust into the soil as he spoke a single phrase:

"Brick-Making Technique!"

Not long after the blue light entered the yellow earth, it underwent a wondrous transformation. Its loose structure compressed, and a small amount of hot white vapor rose. Before long, the loose dirt had turned into dense, solid stone bricks.

After removing this stone brick, which weighed over sixty pounds, from the dirt wall and tossing it behind him, transport workers would soon carry it away.

With one brick completed, Conan Cecil immediately began making the next.

Conan Cecil had to make ten thousand such stone bricks every day.

This kind of mechanical, repetitive labor.

Was dull and tedious.

It consumed a considerable amount of physical strength.

The pay was not particularly high, either.

Yet over the past three months, Conan Cecil had never complained... nor had his colleagues.

Why?

As lofty high-ranking sorcerers, as incomparably noble Mana Web Walkers, had they truly felt no resentment at being reduced to "brickmakers" like common laborers?

Were there really no complaints in private?

There certainly were complaints, but most were minor grumblings... More often, there was excited anticipation for the rewards after completing their tasks.

Tasks?

What tasks?

Naturally, the tasks issued by the