Destroyed arrow towers

Draped in his newly acquired armor, Alexander's capabilities had noticeably improved. Moreover, the armor's enhancement rendered him even more handsome than before.

To amplify the armor's defensive attributes, special methods in craftsmanship and materials were employed, making it somewhat heavy for Alexander to wear.

This did somewhat affect his mobility, but the minor loss was acceptable compared to the significant boost in defense the equipment provided.

With the gear Alexander brought back, his subordinates no longer had to rely on their old, worn-out weapons.

Thomas and the others couldn't wait to don the new equipment, bubbling with excitement.

Although the quality of these armors wasn't top-notch, they were surprised to witness Alexander's tremendous potential through this endeavor.

After all, geting ten sets of weapons and armor in such a short time is no small feat for anyone.

Thomas approached Alexander, asking, "Master, what do we do now? Shall we continue hunting the demon rabbits around us? I'm eager to test out the improvements these new gears bring!"

"Hold on, there's something more important we need to address first," Alexander halted them.

Now, with ample basic resources at his disposal, it was the ideal time to rebuild the City of Hope.

However, a pressing issue troubled Alexander: the City of Hope was in dire need of workers skilled in construction.

"You all must have retained some memories from your past lives. Can anyone tell me where we can find workers in our city?" Alexander inquired.

"I know," Thomas quickly stepped forward, "My father was an architect of the City of Hope. When the battles weren't intense, I often visited him at his workplace."

"Can you take me there?" asked Alexander.

"Of course, no problem."

Thrilled, Thomas eagerly led the way, taking Alexander to where his father had once worked.

In Thomas's eyes, his master, Alexander, possessed the miraculous power to bring the deceased back to life. Thus, he fervently hoped Alexander's abilities could be used on his father, enabling their reunion.

Guided by Thomas, they traversed ruins to reach a collapsed building.

From the outside, the structure resembled a arrow tower. Although dilapidated, its former grandeur was still discernible.

The tower's base was robust, with stones bearing the marks of time, and moss-filled crevices between bricks.

Looking up, the structure tapered, resembling a towering spire piercing the sky.

Perhaps due to time constraints, the arrow tower was only half-built and got destroyed by enemies before its completion.

Thomas led them around debris and ruins into the interior of the tower. The air inside was dense and oppressive, surrounded by skeletons and rusted weapons.

Alexander silently lamented the brutality of war, his mood growing heavy with each step.

Suddenly, Thomas spotted something glowing. He picked it up, wiping off the dust. It was a medal crafted from gold.

Thomas handed the medal to Alexander.

"This was my father's medal. He was an outstanding architect, awarded this by Prince William," Thomas said, his voice brimming with nostalgia.

Alexander examined the medal in his hands. Although its pattern was nearly worn away, its past splendor was still perceptible.

"You're right, your father must have been a great architect," Alexander replied, then asked, "So, is your father nearby? With all these bodies, which one is his?"

Thomas closed his eyes, recalling the scene, tears unwittingly welling up.

He remembered the day vividly. He was chatting with his father, dreaming of defeating the demons and opening a bar back in their hometown.

As they planned for the future of their bar, the alarm of enemy attack once again resounded in the City of Hope.

This time, the enemy's assault was fiercer, with immense stones raining from the sky, wreaking immeasurable destruction.

The arrow tower was quickly demolished by the falling rocks.

Stunned, Thomas stood frozen, forgetting to flee.

A huge stone plummeted like a meteor. In a moment of crisis, Thomas's father pushed him aside, sacrificing himself to save his son, and was crushed to a pulp.

Such was the greatness of a father's love, willing to give everything for his child.

Thomas walked to a massive boulder, turning his back to the group, secretly wiping tears with his sleeve.

"My father is under this," he said.

Turning back, with reddened eyes and a choked voice, Thomas pleaded, "Master, can you revive my father? Please help me, I miss him so much."

Alexander replied, "I can try, but first, we need to move this massive boulder."

"No problem, let's all work together!" James and the others stood ready to help.

Fortunately, the boulder resembled a sphere, appearing as though it wouldn't require much effort to roll.

However, in front of this enormous stone, the ten of them seemed insignificant. Despite exerting all their strength, they couldn't budge it.

Alexander didn't just stand by; he joined them, positioning himself in the middle of the team.

Now, with Alexander being the strongest among them, his assistance was greatly beneficial.

"Follow my lead, everyone, and push together!"

Alexander took a deep breath: "One, two, three, push!"

"Boom..."

With their collective effort, they finally managed to move the boulder a short distance.

The stone left a 20-centimeter-deep crater in the ground, inside of which lay a pile of powdery remains.

Seeing this, Alexander's confidence wavered. He knew he could resurrect skeletal remains, but he was unsure about resurrecting something in a powdery state.

Still, he had to try.

Alexander began using a basic soul summoning, his hands glowing. Under his influence, the powdery remains began to merge, like an embryo developing, gradually reforming into a complete shape.

Everyone watched in amazement, hardly believing their eyes.

The scattered remains on the ground seemed to be driven by a mysterious force, gradually gathering together to form a translucent, embryonic life form.

This life form continued to change, and slowly, the outline of a person emerged from within.

It was a middle-aged man, around fifty years old, his face etched with tranquility and dignity, as if awaiting rebirth in his slumber.

However, just then, Alexander ceased the magic in his hands.