Jie Ming’s application for ownership of Golden Harbor was submitted after his discussion with David.
As expected, given his outstanding contributions in the planar trial and the area’s current state of ruin, the application was swiftly approved.
Without delay, Jie Ming used the camp’s spatial teleportation device to reappear in the basement of his meticulously modified mansion.
In the sealed chamber, the faint breaths of several dying beastman generals, trapped in cages, echoed clearly in the quiet space.
Jie Ming glanced at them with satisfaction, knowing his research materials were well-preserved.
He quickly passed through a secret passage to the mansion’s surface.
Though the city outside lay in ruins, the mansion remained as he left it—a pristine courtyard, buildings untouched by war, and air filled with the fresh scent of earth and plants.
This preservation was thanks to tasks assigned to two silver-white automatons before his departure. Their power was more than sufficient to maintain the estate.
Standing in the courtyard’s center, Jie Ming surveyed the mansion’s interior.
But when he stepped beyond the mansion’s illusion barrier and saw the desolation outside, his brow furrowed.Golden Harbor, once thriving, was now a heart-wrenching wasteland. Charred wood, collapsed stone walls, broken beams, and scorched earth silently testified to the war’s cruelty.
The air reeked of dust and decay, with occasional glimpses of unburied remains.
Most glaringly, the area was littered with vast patches of excrement.
“Couldn’t those beastmen have minded their surroundings while stationed here?” Jie Ming muttered, a flicker of disdain in his eyes.
He raised his hand, and his runic artifact materialized in his palm.
After the trial, he’d realized that focusing solely on elemental attacks or pure energy projectiles was too extreme. With time, he could craft various spell types, so why not diversify his runic artifact’s capabilities?
This artifact, a half-finished product, was inscribed with an energy-shaping witchcraft. Its attack power was modest, but it excelled in specific scenarios.
The artifact glowed faintly, an invisible force radiating outward from Jie Ming.
“Activate!” he commanded.
A thunderous rumble spread from his position—not an explosion, but the muffled roar of countless invisible hands flattening ruins and pulverizing stones in an instant.
Within moments, the debris within a hundred-meter radius was crushed into fine dust, swept away by an unseen airflow, revealing compacted earth beneath.
Like an indefatigable bulldozer, Jie Ming moved through the ruins, wielding his artifact to level each area instantly.
Beyond this terrain-flattening artifact, he deployed air-filtering runic artifacts. Originally designed to purify toxic gases, with adjusted power, they cleansed the air of odors from ruined buildings, scorched soil, excrement, and buried rot.
On the cleared ground, these artifacts created a transparent barrier that expanded outward, leaving only a fresh breeze within.
The foul odors outside could be dispersed later with storm-based spells.
In half a day, the sprawling kilometers of Golden Harbor’s ruins transformed into a vast, flat expanse. The air was clean, the ground smooth, as if no city had ever existed.
This land was a blank canvas, awaiting Jie Ming’s brush.
Cleanup complete, Jie Ming returned to the wizard camp, using the camp’s credit system to purchase infrastructure: a survival package for tens of thousands, including high-energy compressed food for months, self-sustaining water arrays, medical supplies, and modular housing.
These were standardized wizard camp supplies, refined over millennia for planar reconstruction and population resettlement, highly efficient and practical.
Using his Alchemy Technique, Jie Ming crafted basic tools on-site—shovels, hoes, measuring devices, and transport vehicles, enough to equip thousands.
Preparations ready, he contacted David.
“Jie Ming, everything’s set,” David’s voice came through the communication rune, unusually relaxed. “The people are at the edge of your designated Golden Harbor area, ready for handover.”
“Thanks,” Jie Ming said with a faint smile.
He arrived at Golden Harbor’s outskirts, where a massive wizard-crafted cargo airship hovered silently.
Its huge bay doors opened, and thousands of figures emerged in an orderly stream—a crowd of tens of thousands, mostly young and robust civilians, balanced in gender, their expressions a mix of confusion and fatigue, but with little fear or resistance.
Jie Ming scanned them, noting their diverse races: humans, beastmen, dwarves, graceful elves, and even dark-skinned, red-eyed drow elves.
David approached, explaining softly, “I handpicked them for high genetic potential, ideal for conversion. They’ve undergone initial modifications—mental conditioning and basic bloodline adjustments—to remove traits misaligned with wizard civilization norms.”
Pointing to the drow elves, he added, “Take the drow, naturally inclined to evil and darkness worship. The modification potions have realigned their thinking to match ordinary humans, making them easier to integrate.”
Jie Ming nodded, his eyes gleaming.
“With two more rounds of potions, their descendants will fully become wizard-world humans,” David continued. “Rest assured, I’ll send those potions later.”
“No problem.”
They discussed resettlement details. David handed over his research notes, which Jie Ming briefly reviewed before David bowed elegantly and left. “Thank you for your help.”
“Just a transaction,” Jie Ming replied.
As the airship departed, Jie Ming turned to the vast land and the tens of thousands of “new residents” awaiting his orders.
Without hesitation, he deployed the modular housing, ensuring their settlement, and distributed compressed food and water arrays to meet basic needs.
After they ate and settled, Jie Ming issued his first command to a few sharp-looking, pre-conditioned individuals: “Gather all able-bodied workers.”
Soon, thousands assembled, gazing at the young wizard with uncertainty.
Unskilled at speeches, Jie Ming skipped grand visions of city rebuilding, issuing a direct order, his voice amplified by witchcraft to reach every ear.
“You will rebuild this place,” he said, pointing to the flat land, his tone calm but resolute. “But not as a city.”
The crowd held their breath, puzzled.
“I need you to transform Golden Harbor into a massive garden!” His voice rose slightly.
His runic artifact flashed, projecting a grand blueprint for all to see—not concrete and steel, but winding rivers, blooming flowers, lush grasslands, and hidden witchcraft research facilities.
He didn’t want a mortal city but a living, evolving laboratory to supply research materials and energy.
Though the civilians didn’t grasp his vision, the wizard’s mental pressure and their conditioned obedience ensured compliance.
Delegating tasks to skilled craftsmen to avoid micromanaging, Jie Ming stood on a hill, overlooking the bustling figures radiating from his mansion like ants.
This garden would be more than a floral paradise—it would nurture mortal vitality, cycle life energy, cradle elemental birth, and serve as a boundless resource for his experiments.
Golden Harbor was no longer a port but his Golden Garden.