The Elven Cultivator

The demonstration's outcome was beyond anyone's expectations.

Grim, a mid-rank Silver Warrior, was considered an expert in both the Silver Moon Race and Gray Rock Castle, yet he had failed to defeat the Yellow Turban Warrior.

In fact, judging by the result, it was actually Grim who had lost.

This was undoubtedly an unexpected outcome.

The Elf leaders wore complex expressions, silently processing their shock.

They were once again reminded of just how absurd Anton's talent was.

After a long moment, the Great Elder was the first to break the silence.

"Everyone, dismiss. Go back to what you were doing."

Though filled with curiosity, the Elves obeyed and dispersed. As they left, they frequently glanced back at the motionless Yellow Turban Warrior, whispering among themselves.

The three Dwarven elders—Hagrid, Knut, and Thorvin—exchanged a look. Taking the hint, they bid farewell to the Great Elder and left with their kinsmen.

Before they left, however, Hagrid and Knut gave Anton a deep, meaningful look.

If they had held any lingering doubts about Anton's feats before, they were now completely convinced, all skepticism erased.

To learn how to craft puppets and create one at the mid-rank Silver level in less than two months was simply unheard of.

With something so incredible becoming a reality, the other stories about Anton suddenly seemed perfectly plausible.

Once the Dwarves' figures had vanished into the deep shade of the forest, the Great Elder turned to Anton and asked with a solemn expression, "Anton, what is the cost of this Yellow Turban Warrior?"

"Excluding the Frost Pattern Silver, it's about thirty Gold Coins," Anton replied calmly.

His words caused an immediate uproar.

"You didn't miscalculate, did you?"

"How can it be so low?"

"Isn't that even cheaper than a Steel Golem?!"

The Elves stared at each other, their faces filled with shock.

Even including the Frost Pattern Silver, the cost of a Yellow Turban Warrior would be forty to fifty Gold Coins at most—about half the price of a Steel Golem.

But one had to remember that a Steel Golem's combat power was only close to the Silver rank.

The Yellow Turban Warrior's combat power, however, had been proven in the recent battle to be genuine mid-rank Silver strength!

It was more than just a notch above the Steel Golem!

Yet its cost was only about half.

This was poised to completely overturn the entire field of Alchemy Puppets!

They knew Anton had an astonishing talent for Alchemy, but they never imagined he could achieve something on this scale.

Even the Great Elder took a long moment to digest this stunning news, an irrepressible excitement and joy spreading across his face.

"Well done, Anton." The Great Elder looked at Anton with undisguised admiration. "You have once again made a huge contribution to the Clan."

His gaze swept over the others. "From this day forward, everyone is to halt the production of Golems and give Anton your full support in crafting Yellow Turban Warriors."

The others exchanged glances and agreed in unison.

No one raised any objections.

Actions spoke louder than words; the cost-effectiveness of the Yellow Turban Warrior far surpassed that of the Steel Golem.

With the materials to craft several dozen Steel Golems, they could produce at least twice as many Yellow Turban Warriors.

That was a force sufficient to change the tide of battle.

Watching this unfold from the side, Eleanor's expression was complicated.

She had still underestimated Anton's talent for Alchemy.

Romance, as carefree as ever, stared at the Yellow Turban Warrior with shining eyes and a delighted expression.

'Anton really is the one who understands me best.'

'This Yellow Turban Warrior is incredibly tough; even Grim couldn't do anything to it.'

'It's the perfect training partner!'

After the decision was made, the group wasted no time and immediately got to work.

Several laboratories in the Magic district were knocked through and connected to serve as the crafting site, and all sorts of materials were continuously brought over.

Even the completed Steel Golems were unhesitatingly disassembled. Usable components like their Magic Cores were all recovered and repurposed for the crafting of the Yellow Turban Warriors.

Of course, the core work was still led by Anton.

The others could only assist with basic tasks like processing materials and handling mechanical construction.

In fact, as he mastered more and more cultivation arts, Anton gradually became aware of a problem.

The Silver Moon Race's dependence on him was growing ever deeper.

The Dragon Essence Potions needed him to concoct them.

The Rune Equipment needed him to create it.

And the core Military Tokens for the Yellow Turban Warriors were impossible to create without his Divine Sense and mastery of Runes.

Almost everything required his personal attention.

It wasn't that Anton regretted doing these things for the Clan.

From an emotional standpoint, he had lived here for nearly a hundred years and had grown attached to the people and the place.

From a utilitarian standpoint, a stronger Clan could provide him with more resources and protection, making it a worthwhile exchange.

The problem was that this situation, where everything depended on him alone, could not continue indefinitely.

He could still manage for now, but as his responsibilities grew, he would inevitably be stretched too thin.

It wasn't that Anton hadn't considered teaching these arts to the other Elves in the Clan.

But limited by the differences between the cultivation system and the Dawn Continent's training system, this idea was difficult to implement at the current stage.

Although the two systems had much in common, the details were vastly different.

It was like the Chinese and English languages; both were languages and shared many similarities, but their underlying logic was completely different.

Anton could "translate" some martial arts into "combat skills" that could be powered by Magic Power, but he couldn't alter the entire cultivation system to make it compatible with the Dawn Continent's magic system.

He hadn't reached that level of mastery in the Dao yet.

To get other Elves to learn rune drawing, Alchemy, and Artifact Refining, he would have to teach them the fundamentals of the cultivation system from scratch.

The time and energy required to do so were immeasurable; just the thought of it was daunting.

Of course, there was a simpler way.

If he found some young Elven children who hadn't yet begun their training, they would surely absorb the knowledge of cultivation much more easily than the adults and adolescents whose understanding was already set.

'It wouldn't be a bad idea to establish a sect on the Dawn Continent this way.'

Once the thought appeared, it spread through Anton's mind like a vine.

A sect wasn't just a power; it was a system.

A system capable of self-sufficiency, self-perpetuation, and self-development.

Within this system, he would only need to play the role of the "founding patriarch," passing down Cultivation Techniques and skills, training new talent, and letting them handle the tasks that didn't require his personal intervention. This would free him from tedious daily affairs to focus on higher levels of cultivation and research.

'It's worth a try.'

Anton made up his mind, then temporarily suppressed the thought.

Establishing a sect was a long-term plan, impossible to achieve in a short time.

The most important thing right now was to deal with the great threat of the Molten Spike Tribe, and then find a way to hunt the Rock-Horned Dragon and refine the Sword Pill.

In the following days, Anton threw himself wholeheartedly into crafting the Yellow Turban Warriors while secretly making other preparations.

Time flowed by quietly, like a stream in the forest.

「Chenxi Calendar, Year 9302, Midsummer.」

An Elven scout monitoring the northern wasteland brought back news.

The Molten Spike Tribe, which had been quiet for a long time, was finally on the move.

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