Dragon Flame Fortress

Radwolf traveled to the magical world for forty years and became an apprentice knight who couldn't even touch the passing mark - his civil engineering degree in his previous life was worthless in this place where houses were built with magic projections. This year's cold month, the monsters didn't come. Not even one. The Northern Territory relies on the tide of beasts to survive: mercenaries hunt beasts to receive rewards, craftsmen make money by repairing armor, and alchemy shops resell animal bones. If the beast wave does not come, the entire northern economy will lose power. After his colleagues dispersed, Ladd sat on the second floor of the Mercenary Hotel, rubbing ashes against the wall in a daze. Then the people from Shenting posted a recruitment notice on the city gate, and the seal was seven points - the Big Dipper. There is no Big Dipper in this world. Ladd opened Grandpa's black iron box. The handwriting on the title page of the diary is not Grandpa's, but his own. Written forty years ago. Before he was born. On the Dragon Tooth Plain, a giant magic circle is self-assembling - it extracts people's magic power, compresses and purifies it, and pushes it all to the east. Direction of empire. Someone built seven formations to permanently transfer the annual beast tide in the Forgotten Land to the empire. And all the clues left by the man who drew the seal of the Big Dipper point to the same answer that Ladd is not ready for yet: himself. Time is a closed loop. He has been on this line more than once.