Chapter 7
vin sat upon a stone bench, having immersed himself in the study of the Restoration Mantra all
through the night. Far from being weary, he felt a renewed vigor coursing through him. The
Restoration Mantra allowed him to draw in the healing Aether of the world around him, mending his
wounds and replenishing his vitality, ensuring he maintained a bountiful spirit.
It had taken vin a full three years to master the first verse of the Restoration Mantra,rgely due
to his tender age andck of knowledge, as well as his unfamiliarity with the method of harnessing
the Aether. This time, however, the second verse came to him much more swiftly. Within a single
night, he had gained some insight and was confident that he could fullyprehend it within half a
year, if not sooner, andbine the knowledge of both verses seamlessly.
The old man had slipped away to sleep in the storeroom at some point, leaving vin alone in the
courtyard with a solitary grave.
vin’s spirits were high, dispelling the gloom from being rebuffed by Elder Jaslin. He prepared
breakfast for the old man, stuffed a scone in his mouth, and headed to the corner of the yard for his
daily regimen. He hoisted a two-meter-tall stone urn with ease. His muscles were taut, their outlines
the picture of perfection.
This stone urn was used to store sundries. His morning task was to deliver these sundries to
various locations within Cobalt Strike. Initially, he pushed a wooden cart back and forth, butter, he
switched to carrying arge wooden bucket on his back. Two years prior, he had adopted the stone
urn, cing all the items to be delivered inside and carrying it on his deliveries.
The urn was covered in iron spikes and weighed three hundred pounds on its own. It could weigh at
least five hundred pounds with the daily goods, sometimes reaching a hefty seven or eight hundred.
Bare-chested, vin strode across the courtyard, lifting the heavy urn. His robust muscles,
explosive strength, and enduring resilience were the results of his relentless daily training.
Turning adversity into a trial was vin''s daily mantra.
"vin, are you there?" A shrill voice called from outside. A plump man standing at the iron gate
looking rather pompous, tilted his head and squinted his eyes disdainfully. His name was Odell, one
of the stewards of Cobalt Strike, responsible for managing half the servants and their daily tasks.
vin ignored him, continuing his exercises with the urn.
N?velDrama.Org owns this.
"Are you deaf? I''m talking to you..." Odell''s voice shrilled.
Boom! The urn dropped heavily to the ground, shaking the entire storeroom courtyard.
Odell shuddered; his voice was stuck as if his neck had been gripped, and he didn''t dare step inside
the gate.
vin wiped the sweat from his brow. "What is it?"
Intimidated by the weight of the urn but still trying to maintain an air of arrogance, Odell waved a list
in his hand. "These are the goods to be delivered today."
"They''re usually posted on the door. What brings you inside to see me today?"
"Hey! You lowborn, you should be honoured that I came..." Under vin''s gaze, Odell faltered, and
hisints trailed into mumbles. He dared not provoke vin, who had no regard for status and
had beaten him more than once.
“Hand it over,” vin said, taking the list and ncing over it. “Why so many ces?"
Odell sneered, "Aren''t you a Novice Mage now? You dared to attack Elder Jaslin, and now a few
extra deliveries are too much for you?"
"Some of these ces aren''t my responsibility."
"I decide what is and isn''t your responsibility. The capable do more work. From today on, you''ll be
delivering to three times as many ces as before."
vin red coldly at him, shaking the list in his hand.
"What are you doing? If you dare hit me again, I''ll make you deliver all of Cobalt Strike''s goods. I’ll
work you to death! Are you still staring? vin, don''t be rash, what''s a few more pounds to
deliver..." Odell, seeing vin step forward, stumbled backward in fear. vin had chased him
down and beaten him senseless when he was just ten years old, and since then, Odell had been
thrashed at least twice a year. The more Odell punished him, the harder vin fought back. His
body was as tough as iron, unafraid of punishment. Odell had a shadow of fear in his heart, as
vin had yet to beat him this year.
"I''m picking something up. Don''t be scared." vin picked up a stone from the ground and casually
tossed it into the urn.
Embarrassed and annoyed, Odell retorted, "Hurry up and get ready. Deliver the goods quickly. I
warn you, even if you be an Advanced Mage in the future, you''ll still be a servant and will have
to deliver goods every day."
"Odell, don''t be too arrogant. You''ll always be a steward, but I may not always be a servant." vin
fetched a bucket of well water, went into the storeroom to clean himself, and changed into clean,
tidy clothes.
Although he was a servant, he was also a nobleman, the young lord of Stormcast. Clothes needed
not to bevish, just clean. No matter how much suffering there was, a smile would do.
Regardless of how others regarded him, he had to first respect himself. This was his attitude
towards life and his approach to harnessing energy.
Odell rolled his eyes, thinking vin would always be a servant.
vin loaded the goods and quantities listed into the urn. But ncing back at Odell''s smug face by
the gate, vin frowned for a moment before returning to the storeroom to stash some additional
items at his waist. He then stepped out.
The urn was filled with various goods, weighing at least eight hundred pounds. With a firm grip and
a grunt, vin hoisted the urn into the air, bncing it steadily in his hands.
Odell drew a sharp breath at the sight of vin’s abnormal strength and cursed inwardly. "Hurry up!
Don''t dawdle. If you''rete, you''ll walk there and crawl back."
vin, carrying the urn, left the storeroom. The eight hundred pounds was no small burden, but he
insisted on carrying it each day, maintaining steady steps and even breaths.
Odell secretly envied but mocked with a sneer, "Look at you, all brawn and no brain. What good is
strength without Combat Magic? It''s a shame, really; you''re fated never to touch those heights.
You''ll be lucky to even scrape by as a Novice Mage, let alone dream of higher ranks."
Suddenly, the stone urn in vin''s hands tilted unsteadily, threatening to crash down upon Odell.
Odell shrieked in rm, scrambling away in a frenzied roll.
vin righted the urn with ease and strode past him.
"You... you bastard!" Odell fumed, grinding his teeth in anger.
Cobalt Strike, nestled deep within the Cloudveil Woods, was an ancient order with a legacy
spanning a thousand years. The vast grounds epassed more than thirty mighty peaks,
housing a fellowship of over eight thousand Protégés, including countless champions. It was a
renowned and powerful order, a sacred ce for mages within hundreds of miles.