Fairy Tale: With Sin Of Pride

The golden lion orc's eyes widened in disbelief.

The air before him shimmered with immense magical power, yet his vision blurred—he could see nothing, only feel the pressure of a force rapidly approaching. Then, boom! A blinding explosion of light and shadow erupted, shaking the earth beneath his feet.

When the dust settled, all that remained was a deep, smoldering crater. Faint traces of the light-and-shadow energy still lingered in the air, crackling faintly.

"The power of that attack…" Rhodes murmured, his voice low but steady. "It's close to the level of a demigod."

He gazed at the remnants of the clash, his mind racing. Light and shadow, two forces fundamentally opposed, could create unparalleled power when fused—a transcendental force capable of devastating any foe.

But now, a greater question loomed.

"What's next?" he muttered, turning his gaze toward the group of half-orcs standing at a distance, trembling with fear.

Rhodes frowned. He detested their cowardice—their servility born of generations of enslavement. Yet he could hardly blame them. Living under the oppressive rule of stronger races, it was no wonder their spirit had been ground to dust.

Killing this group of half-orcs would be easy—they were far from being legendary threats. But the consequences? That was the real problem.

This city had survived the monster-infested era solely because of these half-orcs. Though not true orcs, their ties to the orc clans offered a measure of protection. The golden lion half-orc in particular… Rhodes's eyes narrowed.

A half-blood offspring of the golden lion clan. To birth such a being, his father had to be at least at the Holy Realm level.

The golden lion clan—a future powerhouse of the orc empire. Though not yet an emperor-tier bloodline like the Beamon clan, they were still a significant royal faction among the orcs, descendants of the beast god.

Killing one of their own, even a half-blood, was a gamble. The orc empire might dismiss the death of a hybrid as inconsequential, but they could also retaliate fiercely. And if they did, the humans in this city wouldn't stand a chance.

Rhodes sighed, his brow furrowing. He couldn't afford to stay and defend them—his plans for the Magic Network project had only just begun. But abandoning them to their fate would mean his efforts to secure this area would amount to nothing.

A dilemma.

He glanced skyward, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. The Magic Network was his brainchild, a revolutionary system meant to redefine magic itself. But its implementation required manpower and time—neither of which he could spare.

The purpose of the Magic Network was simple: to bypass the grueling and time-consuming process of mastering magic. Traditional mages were like artisans, painstakingly crafting tools from scratch before even starting their work. The Magic Network, on the other hand, would hand them ready-made, advanced tools.

With this system, a mage didn't need years of training. As long as they had enough magical power, they could cast spells immediately. This innovation could cut the time needed to create a legendary mage by more than 80%.

However, this efficiency came at a cost. Magic Network mages would lack the ability to innovate. They wouldn't understand the essence of magic—its truths and mysteries. Over time, this stagnation could halt the evolution of magic entirely.

But in a world plagued by monsters, humanity had no luxury to debate long-term risks. Survival came first.

"We'll solve the theoretical issues later," Rhodes muttered, shaking off his hesitation. For now, his priority was ensuring these humans had a fighting chance.

An idea flashed in his mind. "A magic barrier," he said, his voice steady with resolve.

This barrier would resonate with the will of the world, allowing only humans to pass through. Any non-human creature would be repelled or attacked upon contact. With his current power, constructing a barrier capable of repelling even legendary and holy-level monsters wasn't beyond reach.

Such a barrier would be a massive undertaking, requiring vast resources and precise spellcraft. But once established, it could last indefinitely, as long as its magical reserves were replenished.

Still, materials were a problem. Rhodes's eyes narrowed as a thought crossed his mind.

"The golden lion's lair…"

A quasi-legendary half-orc wouldn't be without treasures.

When Rhodes reached the lair, his suspicions were confirmed. Piles of precious ores and magical materials stretched across the cavern, glimmering in the faint light. The golden lion half-orc had even constructed a warehouse to store his hoard.

"This guy might have been sitting on a magic mine," Rhodes mused, glancing at the freshly dug soil nearby.

The orc empire's involvement became clear. They had placed these half-orcs here to obscure the mine's existence, quietly harvesting its resources while keeping it hidden from rival factions like the Elves or the Japanese Demons.

Rhodes chuckled darkly. "Well, you've done me a favor."

Armed with the materials, he began constructing the barrier. With the assistance of the Artifact Star—a tool of immense magical power—the process took only half a day.

The result was breathtaking. The magic barrier enveloped the city entirely, leaving room for farmland and a well outside the main walls. Even if besieged by sanctuary-level monsters, the city could sustain itself for a decade.

Unless, of course, someone found a flaw in the barrier.

Rhodes smirked. "In this era? Good luck with that."

Magic in this barbaric age was rudimentary. Trying to dismantle his barrier was akin to asking an ancient farmer to solve a modern algorithm—impossible without foundational knowledge.

The only real threat would be a demigod-level being brute-forcing their way through.

For now, the city was safe.

Rhodes stood at the edge of the barrier, surveying his work. "It's not perfect," he murmured, "but it's enough."