Fine Shrine

Before long, three days had passed.

Lincon had not gone out these past few days, devoting all his energy to planting Sunlight Sunflowers and familiarizing himself with his class panel.

He had also unlocked a new use for the Ghostshadow Sword Orchid.

He renamed the Ghostshadow Sword Orchid Shadow Sword, because it possessed not only the sharpness of a blade, but also an aura similar to that of dark creatures. It was strange and unpredictable, capable of corroding the essence of things.

When he used the Shadow Sword, the black radiance it gave off was almost impervious to sunlight. Standing beneath the sun, it was like holding a shadow in his hand.

Lincon tried placing it within his own shadow. It actually sank into it, then slowly emerged again with a thought from him.

This was an extremely practical ability. From now on, wherever there was a shadow, he could draw his sword at any time.

If he fought an enemy, they would never know that he had hidden a sword in his shadow. This would be a lethal trump card—if he did not use it, so be it, but once he did, it would take a life.

Of course, he had not neglected making shrines either. Unlike before, when he had only made them casually to pass the time, he now put far more care into them.

The originally crude shrines had gradually taken on a faint spiritual quality after being continuously carved.

Although the statues inside still had blurry features and even looked a little crooked, they at least had human forms now.

The large number of shrines he made had also raised his main class to level two.

At the same time, something else surprised Lincon: his reputation had inexplicably increased by more than ten points.

He guessed it was related to the messenger from Black Iron City. After all, that person had been the first to step within the boundaries of Longwind Fortress in all this time.

Planting Sunlight Sunflowers did not take much time. He only needed to scatter the seeds evenly across the soil. The more troublesome part was clearing the land.

Even though Lincon's strength had greatly increased and he swung his hoe quickly and fiercely, the pace still had not improved by much.

Fortunately, time was what Lincon lacked the least. Over these three days, he had already cleared most of the areas around Longwind Fortress that could be used to plant Sunlight Sunflowers.

Whenever he cleared an area, he scattered Sunlight Sunflower seeds there and used Accelerated Growth to cultivate them.

Unfortunately, aside from the first batch of Sunlight Sunflowers he had cultivated, which had given him quite a bit of experience, all the later ones provided no experience at all.

He looked at the character attributes on the panel.

[Bound: Lincon]

[Main Class: Longwind Fortress Guardian (Novice Tier 2)]

[Secondary Class: Plant Cultivator (Novice Tier 3)]

[Strength: 24--Agility: 21--Spirit: 30--Charisma: 11--Reputation: 18]

[Remaining Sunlight: 27]

His main class mainly increased strength and agility, clearly following the path of a warrior. His secondary class mainly increased spirit, and from the name alone, Plant Cultivator was obviously a caster-type class.

With the attribute boosts from his dual classes, Lincon was practically developing into a well-rounded warrior.

He was already several times stronger than when he had first arrived. Every morning, Lincon habitually practiced Xingyi Fist once, and he could now even hear brief sonic booms in the air.

He still remembered that, at the beginning, he had treated the Xingyi Fist taught to him by his comrades as mere calisthenics.

By now, even the comrade who had taught him probably would not be able to take one of his punches.

In close combat, even if his technique was still somewhat lacking, overwhelming strength and absolute speed could make up for any deficiency in skill.

He just did not know how far he was from the lord of Black Iron City.

Someone capable of easily resisting an ordinary Black Tide was probably still much stronger than him, right?

After Lincon finished cultivating the Sunlight Sunflowers in the plot before him, his spiritual power was nearly exhausted, leaving him slightly dizzy.

But looking at the Sunlight Sunflowers that had grown and gleamed beneath the sun filled him with satisfaction.

If one stood atop the city walls and looked down now, one would see fields of Sunlight Sunflowers stretching continuously around Longwind Fortress.

During the day, the Sunlight Sunflowers absorbed sunlight. At night, they released it, building a barrier of gathered light around Longwind Fortress.

"At this level, it should be enough to completely block even some E-rank Black Tides, right?"

Lincon looked at his handiwork with great satisfaction.

"Sunlight Sunflowers do not just represent light. They also contain hope and direction. They will become lighthouses in this Dark Age, guiding the lost just like shrines do."

The sky darkened once more.

In the Dark Age, daylight lasted only five hours, so time seemed to pass very quickly.

But Lincon had gradually grown used to it. Any work he could not finish would be brought back into his room after darkness fell.

Returning to the courtyard, Lincon took advantage of the remaining light to gather the finished smoked Carrion Rat jerky into containers and place them in a separate storage room inside the house.

Bang!!

With the front gate tightly shut, everything returned to its familiar, tedious state.

Lincon sat before the workbench. Beyond the door lay an eternal silence.

Compared to the bustle and prosperity before the Dark Age, those living in it had to endure the loneliness brought by its endless nights.

On the table was a stone Lincon had recently found in the fortress ruins. It was bluish-gray, fine in texture, and had already been roughly chiseled into a rectangular block.

Beside it were several chisels and a carving hammer he had made himself.

Lincon did not begin immediately. Instead, he closed his eyes and adjusted his breathing.

His mind drifted back over the past three years—back to the sight of his comrades' backs disappearing into the darkness as they left, back to the times he had lit shrine after shrine, hoping their faint flames would illuminate the path home for his comrades.

He was too lonely by himself. During every unbearable long night, he could only repeatedly recall the faces of those who had left and those who had died, endlessly imagining that one day the darkness would fade and an unending stream of people would walk toward him with the sunlight behind them.

If the panel had come any later, or if darkness had completely consumed the daylight, perhaps he would have become like his former comrades.

Abandoning hope, he would have walked into the darkness.

Lincon picked up his tools and began carving for what he no longer knew was the how-many-eth time.

He was more serious than ever. His hands were exceptionally steady. He was no longer simply making a container; his heart was filled with a desire to express something.

The chisel struck the stone with crisp knocking sounds. Amid the flying stone chips, the outline of an upright, seated figure gradually emerged.

Inside was no longer a casually carved pillar, but something with a spine and shoulders, as though it could bear all the darkness.

Yet when he reached the head and prepared to carve the face, Lincon stopped.

The shrines he had carved these past few days all had blurred faces, or no faces at all.

Because he did not know what this god should look like, nor what expression it should wear.

A wrathful guardian? Or a compassionate savior?

If gods truly existed, why would they allow people to live in such an era?

Lincon closed his eyes again as scene after scene flashed through his mind.

In those scenes, apart from the comrades who had left, only he remained.

It was him, still him...

Rather than believe in gods that did not exist, he might as well believe in himself.

In an instant, inspiration struck.

"When all gods fail to come, I will be the only god in this darkness!"

"Believing in gods and Buddhas filling the heavens is no match for believing in me! At least if someone encounters danger within my territory, I can truly sense it."

Lincon set his blade to the stone once more. This time, his movements became smoother than ever.

His heart understood, and his hands did not pause in the slightest.

He carved tightly pressed lips, a high nose bridge, and slightly lowered eyelids.

Those eyes were not looking into the distance. They gazed instead at their own palm, where the candle flame would burn.

It was a guardian gazing at what he protected.

He did not know how much time had passed. When the final cut fell, Lincon let out a long breath, as though all his mental energy had been drained.

He looked at the shrine, roughly half a meter tall. The statue within no longer had a blurry face; its features somewhat resembled his own.

The statue sat quietly within the shrine, seemingly surrounded by an invisible field.

The panel flickered.

[You have completed a shrine. Shrine-making experience +500. Longwind Fortress Guardian experience +300.]

[Longwind Fortress Guardian has risen to level three.]

[Fine Shrine: Created through the lord's expenditure of spiritual intent. It can serve as an anchor for the territory, slow the burning rate of incense and candles within the shrine, provide long-lasting illumination, and be inscribed with basic runes.]

In the candlelight filling the room, Lincon's eyes seemed to shine.

He looked at the Fine Shrine before him in delight and skillfully completed the remaining steps.

He placed a lamp bowl in the statue's outstretched palm, poured in wax oil, and inserted a wick.

The instant he lit the wick with fire.

"Buzz~"

A pale golden flame leaped up, brighter and steadier than ever before.

Amid the shifting light and shadows, the statue seemed to come alive.