Chapter 370: Primordia As a supreme being, Ethan had no intention of simply returning to an ordinary mortal life. He needed something more. Something exciting. After long contemplation, a clear idea formed in his mind. He would create a world of his own. Within that world, he would bring one million mortal people. He would grant them talents, carve out territories for them, and let them rule as lords. It would be a World of Lords. Their task would be simple yet cruel. Survive. Expand their territories. Build vast dominions. Battle monsters, rival lords, and the countless dangers of the world itself. Through blood, struggle, and ambition, they would slowly grow stronger. Ethan would watch their lives closely. Not as a distant observer, but as a participant himself. He would also enter this game as a lord. To the mortals, it would be a trial. A ruthless test of will, intelligence, and fate. To those who endured, it would become a reward. Through observing their growth, choices, and struggles, Ethan would comprehend the final remaining percentage of the Source of Existence. Once that comprehension was complete, he would release them from the world he created. And if someone truly exceptional appeared, someone whose potential shone brighter than the rest, Ethan might take them as a disciple. With his plan fully formed, Ethan conveyed his thoughts to his subordinates. They listened in awe. Every one of them praised his vision without hesitation. "Ragnarok," Ethan said calmly, turning toward the ancient butler. "Take me to the place where your world once existed. I will bring back the Ancient Demon race. They will serve as the ultimate antagonist of my game. What do you think?" Ragnarok did not hesitate. "My Lord, do as you see fit," he said, bowing deeply, his respect absolute. "To be used by you would be their greatest fortune. I have no objections." Ethan nodded. "Good. Then let us go." Soon after, Ragnarok led him across the void. They arrived at a ruined region of space, silent and broken. This was the place where the Ancient Demon race had once lived, a world long erased by catastrophe. The butler stood behind Ethan, his posture rigid, his eyes misty with a grief he had suppressed for eons. "It is a barren tomb, my lord," Ragnarok whispered, his voice heavy with restrained sorrow. "Even the concept of their souls was ground into dust by the combined might of the nine Monarchs. There is nothing left to save." Ethan looked at Ragnarok with a smile. "Let’s see, if the impossible task is really impossible for me or not." He took a step forward and arrived infront of the world. Then he raised his right hand. The vacuum of space seemed to groan under the sheer weight of his presence. He was not just standing in space. He was standing above it. "Return," Ethan commanded. The word was not spoken. It was woven directly into the fabric of reality itself. Suddenly, the debris began to tremble. In a display that defied every law of entropy, the shattered fragments of the demon world began to fly backward. Dust coalesced into stone. Stone fused into tectonic plates. The Time of this specific coordinate was being violently dragged backward by its hair, screaming in silent protest. The atmosphere of the Ancient Demon World reformed, turning from toxic black smoke back into the rich, violet tinted oxygen the demons once breathed. Then came the souls. Ethan reached into the River of Time and pulled. Millions of ethereal threads snapped back into the physical realm. Flesh knitted over bone. Blood began to pump through cold hearts. On the surface of the world, countless Ancient Demons blinked their eyes. To them, not a second had passed. They were still in the middle of their daily lives, unaware that they had been dead for millions of years. "I have sealed their memories of the slaughter," Ethan said, his voice echoing directly in Ragnaroks mind. "To them, they are a race of conquerors waiting for a challenge. They will be the End Bosses of my new realm." Ragnarok fell to his knees, no longer able to stand, his composure finally shattered as tears streamed down his face. "Thank you, My Lord. Truly, thank you." Ethan turned his attention away from the restored world. His eyes burned with a deep, creative fire, the gaze of a being not merely destroying or saving, but designing. "Now, for the stage." He held up his right hand. A single bead of golden liquid permeated through his skin. This was a drop of Origin Blood, the essence of a being who had reached ninety nine percent comprehension of the Source of Existence. It contained enough energy to power a world for a trillion years. "Expand," Ethan whispered. The drop of blood exploded. But it was not a chaotic blast. It was a structured expansion. Within seconds, a massive, flat continent began to form in the void. It was a World of Lords, a single, infinite plane divided into millions of distinct biomes: scorching deserts, floating sky islands, abyssal oceans, and crystalline forests. Ethan began to populate it. With a flick of his fingers, he plucked monsters from the corners of the main world, Hydras from the toxic nebulas, Earth Eaters from the core of dying planets, and spectral shadows from the void. He scattered them across the map with deliberate intent, creating Danger Zones of varying intensity. "A game needs rules," Ethan mused. He closed his eyes, tapping into his subconscious to create the Lord System itself. He manifested a translucent interface that would be visible to all Players. He designed the Tier system for talents. F and E ranks were common, representing standard human limits. D and C ranks were uncommon with enhanced growth. B and A ranks were rare with potential to become powerful lords. S rank was Epic, it was the trancended level talent. SS was Legendary, having reality warping capabilities. SSS was God Tier, being unique powers linked to the Source. "The distribution will be random," Ethan decided calmly. "Fate is a fickle thing, and I want to see how these mortals handle the hand they are dealt. Will a man with an F rank talent succumb to despair, or will he find a way to kill a god?" Back in the third dimension of the Origin Dimension, the world Ethan had originally come from, one million souls were suddenly bathed in white light. These were not the powerful cultivators or the arrogant sect leaders. Ethan chose the desperate, the ambitious, the dreamers, and the ordinary. He took a young office worker from a bustling city, a grieving mother from a war torn village, a brilliant strategist who had never been given a chance to lead, and a thief who dreamed of owning his own kingdom. In an instant, they were gone from their world. Ethan stood at the center of the new world, which he named Primordia. Beside him stood Ragnarok and the now shivering Emperor class entity he had captured earlier, its arrogance long since stripped away. "You," Ethan said, pointing at the Emperor. "Your name is now The Caretaker. You will manage the backend of this system. If a monster grows too powerful and threatens to wipe out the players too early, you trim the hedges. Understood?" "Yes, Great One," the entity stammered, terrified of being turned into a farmer or worse. Ethan looked down at his own hands. His clothes shifted, transforming from his regal robes into the simple, rugged leather armor of a starting adventurer. His overwhelming aura vanished, suppressed so deeply that even a commoner would just see him as a handsome young man. "I will enter as a Lord myself," Ethan smiled faintly. "I will not use my supreme powers. I will use the system I created. To understand the Source of Existence, I must once again feel what it is like to struggle, to build, and to lead from the dirt." Across the vast continent of Primordia, one million pillars of light slammed into the ground. Inside a lush valley, a young man named Leo shook his head, trying to clear the vertigo. He looked around and saw a small, dilapidated stone hut and a wooden fence. In front of him, a screen flickered into existence. "Welcome to the World of Lords, Lord Leo. Your Territory: Beginners Valley. Current Population: 3 Peasants. Generating Initial Talent. Congratulations! You have received S Rank Talent: Aura of the Brave. Effect: All subordinates within your territory gain 50 percent increased morale and 20 percent increased physical strength." Leos heart raced. "Is this a dream?" Similar scenes were playing out everywhere. Some cried, some cheered, and some immediately began barking orders at their bewildered peasants. Ethan landed in a desolate, rocky wasteland near the edge of the Forbidden Zone, the area where he had placed the Ancient Demons. It was the hardest starting location in the entire world. He opened his own interface. "Lord Name: Ethan. Territory: The Nameless Crag. Current Population: 0. Generating Initial Talent." Ethan watched with curiosity. He had not rigged the system for himself. He wanted to see what Fate would give its creator. The screen spun wildly, gold and black light clashing until the interface seemed to crack under the pressure. "Error. Data Overflow. System Recalibrating. Congratulations! You have received Unique SSS Rank Talent: The Source Architect. Effect: You can see the Hidden Attributes of all things and can upgrade any item, building, or unit by consuming Existence Points gained from your actions." Ethan chuckled softly. "Even when I try to be normal, my luck is monstrous."