Night was already drawing close to dawn.
The sky was crowded with constellations belonging to the gods, scattering specks of starlight.
In the distance, guards patrolled, and there was even the aura of Druids. These were the defensive forces.
After all these years, every system had now matured.
Assassins and elite soldiers patrolled in teams. Crossbow squads and watchtowers had laid down all manner of magical traps and warning devices. The guardroom was linked to the Magic Tower and even Druid headquarters.
More than that, fixed teleportation marks had been established.
That meant that once the lord sent out a request, the most powerful mages and Druids could be teleported over. Naturally, this was only for the direst emergencies.
All these measures had made the lord's manor heavily guarded, no longer a place that could be offended at will.
This was maturity.
At this moment, Romon was still working. He had stayed up through the night because he needed to review the laws. He flipped through all kinds of documents, quill in hand as he bent over his desk and scratched out annotations.
After reviewing one document and confirming a law in written form, he stretched his arms and yawned. Just as he was about to rest, the Shennong Horn suddenly trembled.
"Eh?" Romon was somewhat surprised. This fluctuation was not unfamiliar to him. Every previous spatial advancement had been preceded by this omen.
It was only October now, and merely ten months had passed since the last advancement. Was it advancing again?
Romon meditated and sank into the Shennong Horn Space.
The moment he entered, pale green motes formed a virtual dialogue box before his eyes. It displayed: "The space has reached Eighteenth Level. Upgrade?"
Just as expected. Romon was no longer surprised by this.
Looking up, he saw