Soon, the army's erratic movements finally came to a halt, their boots sinking slightly into the dry, barren earth.
Shields clanked as they settled in place, forming an imposing wall of dark metal under the endless sky.
Yet, despite the disciplined formations, the sight before them was...
More wasteland.
Some of the soldiers exchanged glances, subtle but telling, their expressions carrying the same silent plea: Can we be done with this torture already?
Liam felt the same.
Seated upon his throne, his fingers drummed lightly on the armrest as his gaze trailed toward the small figure perched on the edge, legs swaying playfully.
Mize, in all his ethereal beauty, looked more like a whimsical goddess than a mere human, the soft light catching on his hair and the delicate folds of his dress.
Liam sighed, rising from his seat in one fluid motion.
His steps were unhurried as he approached, arms crossing over his chest.
"So…" His voice was calm, almost gentle, yet it cut through the quiet with ease.
His sharp gaze flickered across the empty landscape before settling back onto Mize. "What exactly are we doing here?"
Mize's soft, fluttering gaze met his, and for a moment, he had to crane his neck up to match Liam's height.
A faint blush dusted his cheeks, making him appear all the more delicate.
His lips pursed in thought before he finally spoke.
"Dig"
Liam arched a brow. "Dig?" His fingers tapped against his arm as his gaze swept over the terrain.
"Then we dig." His voice was indifferent, almost lazy.
In truth, he didn't really care why Mize wanted to dig, if it made him happy, that was reason enough.
"Really?!" Mize's eyes brightened with excitement as he stood up, albeit a bit clumsily, due to the dress's length.
He quickly straightened himself, his hands clenching into small fists. "I want to dig this entire area. Can we do that?"
Liam studied him for a beat before nodding. "First... yes, we can. As long as you're happy."
"Yay!"
Mize practically beamed, the joy radiating off him.
Yet, inwardly, he was already making calculations. He couldn't just say he had an ability that let him pinpoint treasure.
If anything, it would only make Liam more suspicious.
And speaking of suspicions…
His eyes trailed to Liam's ever-smiling face, his expression unreadable. 'Yeahhh... now that I think about it, my random direction-pointing probably does seem really suspicious'
He sighed, swinging his legs idly as he thought things through.
Perhaps he needed to use the same trick as before, the whole "beauty increase" excuse had worked, so maybe another ridiculous distraction was in order.
But before he could settle on a plan, Liam's voice pulled him from his thoughts.
"Second… how about trying to float?"
Mize blinked, startled by the suggestion.
"Huh?"
Liam gestured lazily toward the ground. "It'll be a hassle for you to keep moving around in that dress. Floating should be easier."
"…Can I float?" Mize's voice was filled with cautious excitement, his eyes practically sparkling.
"You were floating in your other form, so why can't you do the same in normal form?"
Liam gave a small shrug. "Based on what I understand about your profession, floating should be as natural as breathing." He pointed upward with a single finger. "Just imagine it. Will your body to do it."
Mize opened his mouth to question further, but Liam cut him off smoothly.
"Every profession, no matter how different, has one universal truth"
Mize blinked. "And that is?"
Liam smiled, turning slightly as he walked back toward the throne. "Imagination. Imagine it, visualize it, then act upon it. And another important point, your entire profession revolves around that concept, you should use it properly"
Mize nodded slowly, his gaze drifting down to his feet, which still dangled off the ledge of the throne.
His fingers clenched over his chest as if gathering courage.
"Okay…"
His voice was soft but determined.
"Imagine… imagine… imagine!"
"Imagine that I can float off the floor!"
"Like an ultraman!"
His eyes squeezed shut, then opened. Then shut again. Then opened.
Liam, watching from behind, let out a quiet sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. 'You don't have to say it out loud… Just imagine it inside your head'
While this absurd scene played out on the throne, the soldiers moved, following Liam's silent command.
From a distance, anyone witnessing this army's presence would undoubtedly feel their blood run cold.
A vast, dark legion, their banners slithering like living serpents in the wind, it was a terrifying sight.
And yet… the army was simply standing in a barren wasteland.
This, of course, did not go unnoticed.
A fair distance away, a neighboring lord sat within his castle, his fingers tapping restlessly against the armrest of his throne.
He had been watching Liam's movements from the very beginning.
After all, information was the most powerful weapon in this world, keeping track of competitors was a necessity.
Ever since Liam had climbed into the top 10 rankings, this lord had been keeping an especially close eye on him.
And now… this?
A full army stationed in a random wasteland?
The lord let out a deep sigh, slumping slightly in his seat.
Around him, luxurious silks draped over furniture, and beautiful maids attended to him.
But his mind was elsewhere.
Beside him, on a slightly smaller throne, a woman sat, her delicate features marred with concern as she reached for his hand. "Husband… what's wrong? You look troubled."
Unlike him, she doesn't have the access to the world map, she was a summoned being.
She was no different from the others that had been plucked into this world to serve.
But she had earned his favor due to her appearance, giving her a far better life than most.
Even so, she couldn't understand his worries.
The lord exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples.
"…It's that damned Lord again."
"I have a headache."
The man slumped further into his throne, pinching the bridge of his nose as his eyes shut for a brief moment.
'His movement had always been goal driven before, nothing ambitious for the past few days... '
But now, the lord hovered his eyes towards the map again, and he sighed, "Then what the hell is he doing there?"
"So close to my territory at that... "
Sigh...
The moment his displeasure became apparent, the surrounding maids retreated without a word, their footsteps hurried, vanishing from sight.
They knew better than to linger when the Lord was in a foul mood.
Beside him, his wife remained, her delicate fingers curling around his arm, worry evident in her gaze.
"It's the same thing as before," the man sighed, rubbing his face in a futile attempt to dispel the weariness settling in his bones.
His fingers dragged down across his features before he finally turned his attention to the glowing map hovering before him.
And there it was.
The cause of his unrest.
A barren, lifeless stretch of land, not too far from his own territory.
Liam.
And whatever he was doing, it was impossible for the lord to sit still.
His fingers hovered over the interface, zooming in. The screen shifted, the perspective pulling downward, revealing.
He sucked in a deep breath.
"Such a vast army…"
His voice was barely above a whisper, yet the words carried the weight of a man staring into the abyss of endless dark ocean.
His palm gripped the armrest of his throne tightly, knuckles turning white.
"How many are there? One hundred thousand? Two hundred thousand?"
He shook his head, unwilling to accept the first estimate.
His fingers traced along the screen, dragging it across the landscape, revealing more.
And more.
And more.
The sheer number of soldiers spread across the land made his breath hitch.
And from the look of it, they seemed to be...
Digging?
The realization baffled him, he tried his best wanting to know the reasons and even the hidden meaning behind this action.
"Is he... Building a super secret base?"
"Or... Digging a lake?"
"Or... " His thoughts were turning faster and faster until he given up.
"…Three hundred thousand," he murmured, swallowing dryly.
His free hand clenched into a fist before slowly releasing. "No… nearly four hundred thousand."
The number alone sent an icy shudder down his spine.
'Four hundred thousand troops'
He barely had over four hundred basic militia, broken down equipments he found in lower tier resources points and a pathetic fat general that wanted to hit off with his wife...
A subconscious reflex had his left hand tightening around his wife's arm.
Sensing the tension, she turned to him, concern deepening in her features. "Is it really that bad?"
He forced a gentle smile, shifting to cup her cheek with warm fingers.
"Everything is fine," he assured, voice smooth, soothing. "It's just a slight issue."
Her brows furrowed, her gaze searching his.
"Really?"
"Of course." His smile widened, practiced, almost convincing.
But deep inside, the thoughts churned relentlessly.
A massive player is sitting right at my doorstep…
Four hundred thousand soldiers.
How? How the hell did he amass such an army?
His stomach twisted at the comparison.
'We are simply living in different worlds'
Without another word, he pushed himself from the throne, his steps deliberate as he strode into the distance, thoughts tangled.