Eternal Night Knight

Here is Felen.
In this world, myriad intelligent races nurture the tree of life, with humans merely on the ascent.
Elves, Dwarves, Gnomes, Demi-Humans, Sea Elves, Merfolk—all inhabit their secluded island cities, while the wilderness teems with settlements of Goblins, Hobgoblins, Orcs, Jackalweres, Gnolls, and diverse Monster Tribes.
Each intelligent race meticulously tends to their affairs for survival and the perpetuation of their kind.
From the Fairy Wilderness to the Shadow Plane, the Ether Plane, and the Starry Realm—countless planes entwine with the Material Plane, blending seamlessly.
In their God Kingdoms, the Gods scheme and vie for worship, manipulating all beings as pawns in their cosmic game.
Within the depths of the Hell Abyss, devils and demons whisper, lusting after mortal souls.
An ancient evil lies dormant, awaiting the world's descent into another cycle of chaos.
The echoes of the Giant Empire still resonate across this ancient land.
The colossal shadows of Giant Dragons still darken the skies of this realm.
Gaven, the Legendary Warrior reborn, assumes the mantle of Fate Reshaper, threading through the fissures of destiny. With his prophetic foresight, he charts a careful and strategic path, shaping a future of his own making and averting impending tragedy.
Gaven embarks on an unorthodox journey of magic farming—Gnolls mine for him, Fairies tend his fields, and Giants lead his charges. For indeed, Magic Farming is the true road to supremacy.
...
In this Lord's tale of Magic Farming, the narrative may unfold slowly, so please extend a measure of patience and support.
Preparation is extensive, with a swift writing pace, ample drafts in reserve, and an unwavering commitment to integrity.

Farming in a Parallel World and Becoming a God

It is one of the rare peaks in the Rocklands, standing solitary among a group of low, squat mountains. From a distance, it looks just like an eagle's head extending from the plain, a landmark terrain of the surrounding area.


What truly endows it with this name are the figures that often hover around it—the Harpies.


This is a familial Harpy cave with no fewer than a hundred residing within. To all intelligent life around, especially males, they are a calamitous presence, the mention of Eagle Cliff strikes fear into their hearts.


Eagle Cliff is not far from the Blackwell Tribe in a straight line, only about twelve or thirteen kilometers away.


But in the complex terrain of the Rocklands, winding paths make the distance two or three times longer, especially since it lies across from the Blood Claw Tribe of Hobgoblins, which has a grudge with the Blackwell Tribe.


Chapter 79 Eagle Cliff Burrow_1