The construction of the Grand Cathedral did not look like anything the beastmen had built before.

There were no heavy stone blocks to drag, no mortar to mix, and no crooked wooden scaffolding clinging to the cliffside.

Under the Apostle Jarden’s instructions, the construction phase was a dance of strange, geometric precision.

First came the skeleton of the dome.

Commander Trojan’s newly organized Sun Tiger military division stood in a massive circle around the cleansed secondary ritual basin.

Instead of heavy iron beams, they lifted long, slender struts forged from the white-gold-plated Varanite alloy that had crystallized from the elixir.

The material was incredibly light, allowing a single pair of Wolf-kin soldiers to hoist a piece that would normally require a team of ten.

The soldiers didn’t weld or forge the joints.

Instead, Alpha Eurenia’s elite shock-troops stepped forward in pairs, using their bare hands to lock the struts into triangular and hexagonal nodes.

It was a geodesic design straight from Roy’s memories—an interlocking web where every single piece shared the weight of the others equally.

As the frame climbed higher, curving inward toward the sky, the beastmen realized the miracle of the design. It required no internal pillars.

A colossal, hollow dome was taking shape, held up entirely by its own geometry.

Once the white-gold framework was locked in place, it was time for the skin of the cathedral.

The Black-Spotted Frog-kin, using their natural agility, scaled the metallic web without a hint of fear.

They carried large, hexagonal sheets of the deep obsidian-glass that had been infused with magnetic Lodestone Silicate.

As they slid each sheet into the slots of the Varanite frame, the natural magnetism of the materials took over.

With a series of sharp, rhythmic clacks that echoed across the canyon, the glass panels magnetically locked themselves to the metal skeleton, sealing the structure seamlessly.

Down below, the floor was poured using the smooth, Varanite concrete.

The common beastmen—coached by Brenda’s logicians—smoothed the liquid stone into tiered, curving rows of amphitheater seating that descended perfectly toward the central altar.

By the third day, the final hexagonal cap was lowered into the very top of the dome.

The moment the circle closed, a faint, golden-crimson hum vibrated through the entire structure.

The magnetic veins in the obsidian-glass aligned perfectly, turning the massive ceiling into a living canopy.

Standing inside the completed auditorium, the thousands of seats looked up at a seamless, star-lit sky created by the filtered desert sun.

The air grew instantly cool, crisp, and sacred.

The Grand Cathedral of Varanus was finished, standing at the heart of Tempest City like a massive, gleaming crown of glass and gold.

But this was just the beginning...

Under the direct, geometric blueprints handed down by Master Jarden, the old ways of dragging crude obsidian blocks up the muddy terrace ramps were permanently abolished.

The beastmen, once accustomed to rough-hewn caves and smoke-choked iron hovels, found themselves staring at strange, interlocking wooden frameworks and skeletal metal cages that rose straight into the gray, ash-swept sky.

Days turned into weeks.

Weeks turned into months.

Roy was designing Tempest City using his memories of Earth, transforming the once desolate landscape into a futuristic city.

Three months later.

**

With Alpha Brenda taking the role of the Inquisitor Commander, her faction joined the Inquisition Command—enforcers of the Church’s new laws that regulated the City.

While the Administration under Mayor Manuses were working on exploration of the new forest which surrounded their city, they were harvesting wood used to create fires and build new houses.

Under Commander Trojan’s orders, a new hunting division was created to hunt down Beast-stage F-class abominations scattered across the Hudeii Desert.

Beast-stage F-class abominations became their primary source of food, although the new age of farming had come, thanks to the fertile soil created by both the elixir and the Creation Essence.

They still had months until their crops were ready for harvest.

The flesh of Beast-stage F-class abominations was primarily used for clothing; the abominations dragged back to Tempest City alive were brought before Roy.

He was the only one capable of suppressing an abomination’s bestial instincts, taming them effectively and making these abominations their means of transportation.

Just as Roy wished, the news of both Tempest City’s liberation and transformation spread across the Hudeii Desert like wildfire.

He had already concealed the existence of the Martial Lords from leaking.

No one aside the high-ranking officials knew that the new Tempest City possess not one but two Martial Lords.

Roy saw through the spies sent by the other cities to confirm the rumors.

He let them be, for this was what he wanted.

***

"It seems Tempest City has grown bigger than we have imagined," a soft sigh was heard.

The heavy, sandalwood doors of the Jade Pavilion in Yeren City closed with a muted, ominous thud.

Unlike the volcanic, industrial landscape of Tempest City, the eastern Yeren was a metropolis built on trade, silk, and ancient merchant guilds.

But today, the wealthy atmosphere of the chamber was choked by a thick, suffocating wave of anxiety.

The four governors of Yeren City sat around a circular table carved from solid white quartz.

Each represented a major faction of the city’s ruling merchant council: Governor Vance of the United Shark-kin Trade Syndicate, Governor Kaelen of the United Rhino-kin Guilds, Governor Sorsha of the United Hawk-kin Enforcers, and Governor Corin of the United Leopard-kin Army.

"The reports from the north are no longer rumors," Governor Vance began, slamming a thick stack of parchment onto the quartz table.

His fingers trembled slightly, a rare sight for a man who controlled half the currency in the Hudeii Desert. "Tempest City has completely transformed. It is no longer a fraction of the desolate wasteland," he sighed.

"Our spies report that the entire volcanic canyon has been rewritten into a land of pure green marble, with a clean, crystal inland sea filled with fish lapping against its lower rings."

"A sea in the middle of the Hudeii Desert?" Governor Kaelen scoffed, though the Rhino-kin’s face was deathly pale. "That requires divine-tier terraforming magic. Not even a high-stage Martial Emperor could manipulate the tectonic plates and subterranean aquifers to that scale in a single afternoon."

"It gets worse," Governor Sorsha hissed, her slitted reptilian eyes narrowing. "Our mining cells along the border discovered something terrifying," she laid back on her seat, with her arms crossed.

"The bedrock around Tempest City didn’t just change color; it mutated. They are building tall buildings they call Skyscrapers out of both glass and a material called Varanite—a mineral that looks like jade but possesses the tensile strength of reinforced titanium alloy."

She paused, "And their armories... they are not only forging swords. They are mass-producing high-grade, long-range firearms fueled by a volatile kinetic metal called Varanium."

Governor Corin leaned forward, his heavy frame rustling his silk robes. "We need to seek cooperation with them. Immediately. If Tempest City controls a material that can create those strange, blast-resistant fortresses and supersonic weapons, whoever holds their trade monopoly will rule the entire desert region."

The conversation shifted from the city’s sudden industrial leap to the strangest, most unsettling aspect of the reports: the birth of the Church of Varanus.

"They are calling it the absolute safe haven for all beastmen," Vance murmured, rubbing his temples. "Our spies inside the city claim that the old slave pens have been completely demolished. Although Lord Manuses still clings onto the role of Mayor, he has bowed—along with his entire forces—to a new deity. The God of Beasts, Lord Varanus."

"They have also built a colossal, dome-shaped cathedral at the center of the city," Sorsha added, her voice filled with a mixture of curiosity and deep unease.

"An interlocking web of white-gold and magnetic obsidian-glass that can hold five thousand worshippers."

She hesitated "Beastmen from all over the southern plains—Crimson Wolf-kin, Black-Spotted Frog-kin, even the underground Hyena cells under Alpha Brenda—have voluntarily unified under this one banner."

The four governors fell into a tense, heavy silence.

In a world where beastmen were traditionally hunted, enslaved, or used as low-tier shock troops for foreign empires, a city that offered them absolute emancipation and divine protection was a geopolitical anomaly.

"Should we... consider aligning with this Church?" Elder Corin asked quietly, looking around the table. "If Lord Varanus truly possesses the power to rewrite the desert and uplift his followers, bowing to him might guarantee Yeren City’s survival in the coming era."

"Absolutely not! Not yet," Kaelen snapped, his rhino pride instantly flaring up alongside a deep, instinctual reluctance. "We are a city of independent merchants and free warriors. We do not know who or what Lord Varanus is."

Kaelen’s eyes narrowed "Is he an ancient primordial, or a parasitic False God seeking to harvest our souls? To bow to a new religion without seeing their true strength is madness."

He clenched his fist, "We watch. We negotiate for the Varanium steel. But we do not kneel."

Before the council could debate the religious alignment further, the heavy wooden doors of the pavilion were violently thrown open.

A blood-stained Yeren vanguard scout stumbled into the room, collapsing onto his knees before the quartz table.

"Governors!" the scout gasped, his breath ragged, his armor cracked by a brutal frost-mana impact. "The West.... the West has opened its gates! The Troll King has felt the death of his priests in Tempest City"

The air in the Jade Pavilion instantly turned ice-cold.

The casual reluctance of the governors evaporated, replaced by an absolute, primordial terror.

The Troll King was not just a regional warlord; he was a Martial General who had consolidated the brutal, frost-bitten tundra of the western peaks.

His wrath was legendary, and his military movements were always catastrophic.

"What is the magnitude of the host?" Governor Vance demanded, rising from his chair, his hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly his knuckles turned white.

"The Orc General Yvoda has been deployed alongside an army of three thousand Orcs and Ogres."

"They’re also accompanied by ten priests of the Martial Warriors’ realm," the soldier reported.

The four governors looked at one another, the sheer, crushing magnitude of the northern army settling over the room like a death sentence.

The board was set, the storm had arrived, and Tempest City’s modern, techno-magical defenses were about to face their first....

Bloody Test!