An abandoned pot-shaped arm guard factory with three cliffs and an entrance became his first line of defense.
Reduction tower, arrow tower, ground spike tower, flame tower... While others were still racking their brains to defend a front, he had already laid a dragnet in the pot-shaped fortress.
The punitive team sent from the main city was completely wiped out.
Exiles from the frontier came to surrender one after another.
Envoys from alien civilizations knocked on the door and asked for an audience.
Lin Mo stood on the fifty-meter-high rock wall, overlooking the steel fortress he had built with his own hands, and the corners of his mouth raised slightly:
You say this is a frontier? No, this is my throne.
