After defeating a Wither, Garrett didn't stop.
Moments later, another Wither was summoned, then personally destroyed by the one who had called it forth.
Using obsidian as the base, placing a Nether Star on top, and enclosing it with a glass pyramid, that was how a beacon was created.
[Achievement Unlocked: Bring Home the Beacon]
Clack.
Inside the castle, he placed the newly crafted beacon onto a fully layered pyramid base, then replaced the blocks above it with glass.
Whoosh.
In an instant, a solid white beam of light shot up into the sky, piercing the night and stretching beyond sight.
[Achievement Unlocked: Beaconator]
Strength.
Regeneration.
Two beneficial effects radiated from the beacon.
That day, many people felt stronger, more energetic, even small injuries they hadn't tended to healed on their own.
The source of all these changes came from the heart of the territory, the Lord's castle.
Ignoring the late hour, many residents climbed out of bed and stepped outside, gathering reverently around the castle. They gazed in awe at the beam of light that had appeared above it, and thought of the one who had created it.
This miracle, as though blessed by the Valar themselves, sparked wonder in their eyes.
"So beautiful."
Inside the castle, Garrett caressed the glass casing of the beacon, gazing at the crystal within, bright as daylight, ringed with azure blue like a clear sky, its flawless white core purer than mithril. He stared without blinking for a long time.
In this world, perhaps only the Silmarils could compare to it.
But in terms of power, the Silmarils still held the advantage. The beacon provided broad, beneficial effects, while the Silmarils were the bane of evil, any dark being unworthy of them would be burned just from a glance.
Just after setting up the beacon and stepping outside the castle, he was startled by the crowd of residents.
"What are you all doing here?"
"My Lord, we've come to witness the miracle you've created."
One resident stepped forward, placing a hand over his chest in a gesture of reverence.
Garrett waved his hand dismissively. "Alright. If you've seen enough, go back to bed. It's late, you should be sleeping. If you don't, the sun'll be scorching your butt in the morning."
Scorching your butt? One resident furrowed his brow slightly.
What does that mean?
Why would the sun burn your butt?
He imagined the scenario: someone sound asleep in bed, in a rather indecent posture, and the sun had been up for a while, but they hadn't woken, until it literally warmed their rear.
Ohhh...
So that's what it meant.
The Lord really does have a way with words.
The resident's brow relaxed as understanding dawned. Seeing the confusion on the other residents' faces, he knew this would be his conversation starter for tomorrow.
A casually spoken phrase began spreading throughout the stronghold, becoming a kind of local expression.
Some sleepy children had no idea their parents had just picked up a new saying from the Lord, one that would echo throughout their upbringing...
"As you command."
The residents obeyed, reluctantly returning to their homes.
Many couldn't sleep, their minds filled with that pillar of light, and the mighty figure who had stood before it.
After dispersing the crowd, and gently pushing Wormi's dragon head, peeking down from the mallorn tree, back into the branches, Garrett entered the high tower and used a Nether Star to forge a new focus: "Warding."
This... wasn't something to use lightly. Its power was too extreme, easy to cause disaster if misused.
Every use required the utmost caution.
When protection went too far, it became imprisonment, eternal and merciless. Whether to enemies or oneself, that kind of thing was far too cruel.
He studied it through the night in the tower.
---
By dawn the next day, a crowd had already gathered in the plaza, discussing and gazing up at the white beam over the castle.
Wormi was lying at the edge of the tree platform, staring fixedly in that direction from early morning, its dragon head motionless.
It had been sent off to bed last night, surely it could watch it in the daytime now.
"Don't fall off..."
Garrett climbed up to add a railing to the platform.
Seconds later, a dragon head poked through a gap in the railing and got stuck, still staring at the beam of light.
"You'd better not make any noise from getting your head stuck."
Garrett measured the size of the gap, still too wide to trap the dragon's head for now, then climbed down the tree, patted the big golden retriever napping on the grass nearby, stretched, and began wandering around the territory.
As he strolled, a particular sound caught his attention.
"Have you all memorized it?"
In a room that was arranged differently from the others, an elderly man, appearing to be around sixty or seventy years old, stood in front of a large table, speaking to a group of children seated on chairs before him.
"Yes, we have!" the children responded in unison.
What's going on here...?
Garrett opened the door and walked inside.
"My Lord!"
The old man straightened and approached Garrett, bowing respectfully.
The children seated at the table also quickly stood up and mimicked the elder's gesture, though their movements were somewhat clumsy.
Garrett gestured for them to relax and gently patted the head of the child standing closest to him.
"What are you doing here?"
"I'm teaching the children, my Lord," the elder replied.
"Ah, so it's a school."
The room did indeed have a scholarly atmosphere. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with books both new and worn, and there were papers and quills scattered about.
Some names were written on the papers.
"These are the children's names. Their parents entrusted me to educate them," the old man explained as he stepped forward.
Passing down knowledge... Garrett's expression grew more serious.
In the past, the territory's population was too small, and there were barely any children, so education had never been a pressing concern.
But now...
"Your face is unfamiliar, did you arrive recently?"
The elder, who had clearly taken on the role of a teacher, had a unique presence about him, calm, steady, with the weight of age and wisdom. He stood there like ancient stone: weathered and enduring, unless moved by external forces.
If someone like this had been in the territory for long, there was no way Garrett wouldn't have remembered.
"Yes, my Lord. I came from a small town between the western forests and the river mouth of Anórien. I used to work there as a librarian."
"Anórien? If I remember correctly, that's a northern province of Gondor," Garrett recalled. "Did something happen to your town? How did someone like you end up as a wanderer?"
Seeing Garrett's interest, the old man didn't hold anything back and recounted his story in detail, "In my younger days, things weren't like this. There were many able-bodied people in town, and merchant caravans would pass through from time to time. But at some point, orcs started appearing in the nearby woods, and at night, wargs with glowing red eyes would lurk around the outskirts of the town. Many couldn't stand it and chose to migrate southeast, gathering near Minas Tirith."
"In the end, only old folks like me remained, and many homes were abandoned. I haven't seen any lights in those houses for a long time, perhaps I really was the only one left."
"I didn't want to abandon the valuable books and knowledge I'd spent years collecting, so I stayed behind. Every day, I watered the garden, cooked, and read. That continued until one day, a few orcs riding wargs broke into my home. That was when I finally regretted staying."
"They were arguing whether to chop me up for stew or roast me whole when a passing Ranger saved me. He was swift and skilled, carrying a longbow on his back and an ancient-looking sword at his side."
"He told me that if I didn't want to go to Minas Tirith, I could head west, there was a newly established settlement on the western side of the mountains that welcomed refugees."
"He even offered to personally escort me here if I was willing to go."
"Oh?" Garrett's interest was piqued.
"And that Ranger, what happened to him after he brought you here?"
"He continued westward, my Lord. Said he was heading to a place called The Forsaken Inn."
"Ha."
Garrett couldn't stop the smile tugging at the corner of his lips, he nearly laughed.
Well now, who would have thought he'd hear about that fellow again from a resident.
A Ranger carrying an ancient sword, often seen near The Forsaken Inn... Who could that possibly be?
What a mystery.
It had been years since they last parted ways.
Who knows where he'd wandered since then.
And now, on his way back, he even brought Garrett an old scholar.
Seeing the Lord's expression turn somewhat amused, the old man grew a bit uneasy. Then suddenly, as if realizing something, his breath caught.
The Lord had to ask about all of this... meaning he had no idea what had been going on.
He hadn't known about this outsider seeking refuge, nor about the lessons being held for the children.
Realizing this, he quickly said, "Please forgive me, my Lord. I gathered the children and began teaching them without reporting to you. I was presumptuous in sharing what little knowledge I have."
He slowly lowered his head.
"No, this was my oversight. I should be thanking you for reminding me of something important," Garrett said with a smile.
The old man lifted his head.
Then he heard the Lord speak, "Lately, our population has grown. There are enough children now to fill an entire room. I think it's time we established a proper place for learning."
"How would you like to be its first teacher?"
"All the knowledge you've gathered over the decades will serve you well."