《Golden Apotheosis》


 Chapter 1: Heavenly Transfer

    Sven let out a sigh as he locked his car and briskly walked over to the door of his moderately sized semi-detached house, the chill evening breeze unsettling the combed white hair atop his head.


    He inserted his key into the lock and a moment later he pushed down the handlebar and waltzed on into his home, discarding the coat he carried in his arm onto the coat rack he had nearby.


    Then, after locking the door to his house again, he meandered on into his kitchen where he, acting on auto-pilot mode, filled up the kettle with water as he prepared a mug with a teabag.


    The boiling process didn¡¯t take too long, so it was only a few minutes later that Sven was slumped on his sofa, his feet resting on an ornate ottoman he¡¯d bought, drinking a cup of Earl Gray tea.


    ¡°Ah!¡± He instinctively let out after taking the first sip, his left hand moving to nurse the cup as now that he had his tea in hand, he let his aged mind begin to wander. As it did, however, his facial expression only grew more neutral as the reality of his situation kicked in properly for him, and he wasn¡¯t sure that he liked it.


    For his entire life, he had always considered himself a bit of a workaholic. Someone who was never more at ease with the world than when stuck into a project or a task.


    It was a disposition that had served him well throughout his life as his bosses could never fault his work ethic as he was a tireless worker whose contribution could not be overstated.


    In fact, the only times that he''d ever found himself in hot water with a higher-up at one of his workplaces, it had always been because his relentless dedication outshone his immediate superiors. Yet, now, he had retired and he didn¡¯t really know what he was going to do with the rest of his life.


    As, for a whole host of reasons he didn''t want to even think about, he had never really been interested in the prospect of having a family. So, as a result, he lived alone, and the only regular company he¡¯d had over the years were his friends.


    Most of whom, unlike him, were now beloved grandparents, if not great-grandparents, which made them a very troublesome lot to wrangle for any sort of meeting or interaction which didn''t take place via the assistance of a mobile device.


    Which, call him old fashioned all you like, just wasn¡¯t the same as a face-to-face interaction. Hence, he didn¡¯t see all that much socialization going on in his future.


    So that just left him with all the things that old people normally did once they retired. Traveling on a cruise around the world, or just sitting at home doing nothing but watching old tv soap operas all day.


    Neither option sounded particularly appealing to Sven which made him let out a tired sigh. It was, however, an unavoidable reality. His best days were, after all, long behind him now.


    Or, so he thought. Until, out of nowhere, an ethereal blue panel appeared before him, scaring the everliving daylights out of Sven to the point where he almost spilt his tea all over himself. Luckily, though, what tea did escape its cup splashed onto the cushion beside him rather than his worn-out black work pants.


    Once Sven had then calmed his shaking hands, and slowed his beating heart, he read over the strange box full of white text that had just appeared out of the blue.


    ¡ª


    Heavenly Transfer Available!


    Congratulations, mortal, for you have qualified to be transferred to the world of Empyria, an impossibly superior planet to this one for it is Heaven Touched!


    On Empyria, a whole world of opportunities awaits you, Sven Mikhailov. From becoming an unrivaled emperor and thereby gaining untold power and might, to achieving true immortality!


    All of these things and more can be achieved if only you are willing to accept this transfer! Only an idiot would turn down this once-in-a-millennium opportunity!


    Accept Heavenly Transfer?


    YES / NO


    ¡ª


    ¡°Did someone hack my brain just to scam me?¡± Sven muttered to himself as he sipped at his tea, a not amused frown growing on his face.


    He recognized all of the shameless marketing tactics at work in the blue box¡¯s contents, so he was immediately skeptical of this so-called ¡°Heavenly Transfer¡± business.


    Thus, instinctively, his mind hovered over selecting no. But, before he could finalize his choice, the panel was suddenly overlaid with another - this one even more shameless.


    ¡ª


    Heavenly Transfer Brochure


    Are you a mortal from a nondescript planet with a soul worth its weight in gold? Well then, you should consider agreeing to a Heavenly Transfer.


    Heavenly Transfers, unlike the holidays you are familiar with, are permanent, at no extra or hidden cost to yourself! Hell, the whole package is provided free of charge!


    You may be wondering what are the benefits of agreeing to a Heavenly Transfer? I¡¯m so glad you asked! Apart from the boundless opportunities that come with a whole new world, as a transfer you shall be granted a special boon dependent on your soul!


    Oh? And have I mentioned that accepting Heavenly Transfers is all the rage these days? You don¡¯t want to be the lone poor soul that misses out on the opportunity of a thousand life times do you? Do you?! Afterall, that would just be terrible!


    So, why not accept a Heavenly Transfer today?! A whole new life of adventure awaits!


    Accept Heavenly Transfer?


    YES / NO


    ¡ª


    ¡°What in the-¡° Sven began before sighing and shaking his head as he realized there was really no point in getting worked up over the panel¡¯s shamelessness.


    As, firstly, the thing was most likely not even real. A figment of his twisted imagination. Or, the first symptom of a greater underlying mental condition he¡¯d yet to be diagnosed with.


    But, secondly, and more importantly, because it seemed as though whatever the cause of the blue box was, it really didn¡¯t care about what he thought, only in what he did.


    And, on the off chance that he hadn¡¯t just suddenly gone senile, and the weird illuminated box did turn out to be real, getting mad at it wouldn¡¯t do him any good.


    So, after letting out a last grumble about the blatant use of marketing tools, Sven considered what he truly thought about the proposal in front of him.


    More as an intellectual exercise in analyzing the hypothetical scenario where the panel contained a real offer than any sort of serious belief on his part that he was making a real choice.


    The pros of accepting this Heavenly Transfer seemed pretty obvious as were the cons.


    On the one hand, should he accept, the panels hinted at him being able to attain power, as well as the chance to potentially avoid the need to retire by gaining immortality.


    On the other hand, should he accept, the new panel explicitly stated that he¡¯d be unable to return to Earth, which meant he¡¯d effectively be saying goodbye to everyone he knew.


    After weighing up the two sides, he came to a conclusion at around the same time, totally coincidentally, that he ran out of tea. His hypothetical winner had been decided.


    If he was ever to be truly presented with this offer, he would accept it. But, as the panel wasn¡¯t re-


    Suddenly, Sven¡¯s vision began to warp as space and time distorted all around him, and he realized too late what was happening as he was then sent hurtling forward.


    His old bones collided with a hard surface as everything snapped into right order again.


    Pain muddled his thinking as he raised his trembling form until he was kneeling and only then did he manage to take in his new surroundings.


    Gone was the cozy comfort of his living room, replaced on all sides by cold black rock that thrust up into the sky all around him, making Sven assume he was on some kind of mountain plateau.If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    An assumption that proved correct as he carefully shifted forward and glanced over a nearby ledge and took in an incredibly steep, maybe 50ft, drop.


    Sven rarely cursed but as he observed his new environment he couldn¡¯t help but mutter, ¡°Shit¡­¡±


    The regret at taking the choice he¡¯d been given so lightly that had began to build up the moment his vision had gone crazy fully came into its own when a new damn blue panel appeared.


    ¡ª


    STATUS:


    Name: Sven Mikhailov


    Titles: N/A


    Realm: [1st Layer of the Novice]


    Classes: N/A


    Skills:


    [(Mortal) Analysis (Early)] - You can learn basic information about anything that your gaze lands upon so long as it is not protected from scans, or too high level.


    Boons:


    [Golden Elder] - Rank: [???] - ???


    ¡ª


    ¡°Is any of this supposed to mean something to me?¡± He grumbled expectantly, hoping for at least an explanation of what was going on from whoever or whatever was giving him these odd panels.


    However, no explanation seemed forthcoming, so Sven could only shrug his shoulders at the new text box before averting his gaze back to his surroundings. Trying to figure a way off the tiny plateau upon which he now found himself.


    A goal that was then formalized with another stupid panel.


    ¡ª


    Quest Gained!


    Quest Name: Descend! Descend! Descend!


    Rank: [Profound]


    Objectives: [Reach the bottom of the mountain (0/1)


    Reward: ???


    ¡ª


    Having not a single clue how he could turn off receiving these blue pop-ups in his vision, Sven could only just sigh at this newest source of irritation before he returned to scanning his primary objective.


    But, just as before, he could only see one way down from his current position. He¡¯d need to climb down the rockface manually.


    Well, that or slide down, but he suspected that his old body wouldn¡¯t be able to handle it without enduring serious, debilitating damage.


    So, drawing upon what courage he had, Sven started his descent down the mountainous cliff with a nerve-wracking dangle off the edge. His body kept from falling from a perilous height by his straining grip alone.


    Using his shaking hands, he then searched for a rocky handle upon which to grip. After frantically patting down the cliff around him, Sven found what he was looking for.


    And, taking a deep breath as he did so, he shifted one of his frail trembling hands downwards and gripped a crack wall hard, and, as if by sheer luck alone, Sven was able to hold his grip tight as he lowered himself.


    ¡®Only thirty-nine more feet to go.¡¯ He thought to himself as he continued his slow vertical descent down a perilous cliff face as the rookie climber that he was.


    However, despite his inexperience, it wasn¡¯t until he was only about ten feet off the ground that it truly became clear to him why usually people don¡¯t start climbing on mountains like this.


    As, when he moved to lower himself after gripping onto what he thought was a stable rock, the air left his lungs in anticipation as he heard a scraping sound and the stone came loose, precipitating the end of his amateur rock climbing career.


    He landed back first onto a bed of smaller jagged rocks that dug into his skin as he let out a gasp at the pain that came from the sudden impact with a hard surface.


    Yet, surprising him somewhat, Sven felt only a moderate difficulty in struggling back to his feet. It was astonishing as, at his age of 73, one could expect much worse injuries from such a fall.


    Sven didn¡¯t let his mind linger on that fact though, only letting his gratitude for it remain in the back of his mind as he looked for any kind of pathway further down the mountain.


    It took him a minute before he saw a wide-ish crack in a nearby rockface that seemed to bend in a downward direction as far as he could tell.


    He thus decided to walk over to the crack, and, to his pleasant surprise, he was met by a staircase that had been carved into the mountain side.


    Sven didn¡¯t know who did or why someone would mine out a staircase up to the peak, but he was for sure grateful for the fact that someone had as he didn¡¯t fancy any more rock climbing.


    As he made his descent, the ebony rock that flanked him on either side began to give way, and it wasn¡¯t long until he had to be increasingly careful as he took each step down. The howling wind buffeting his frail body making every step potentially his last.


    He then reached a point in the staircase where he began to notice a worrying trend. With every step he took, the gap between the next step that he needed to take grew greater and greater. Until, at last, he was confronted with a gap between his and the next step that was so wide that he couldn¡¯t imagine simply stretching his leg over it and thereby passing it with ease.


    He¡¯d need to jump.


    But, with the wind having decided that now was the best time to grow more intense, and an unbelievably steep drop awaiting him if he failed to make it, Sven was naturally rather nervous. And the growing numbness of his bare hands was the only thing that kept them from shaking anymore. He panned his head to the side and then back up the stairs he¡¯d just walked down, and he hoped an alternative path might open up for him. But, he had no such luck.


    Thus, without there being any other choice, Sven returned his gaze to stare down the path it seemed fate was intent on making him traverse and frowned. For the jump in front of him wasn¡¯t the only one. As he eyed the fractured path ahead, the gaps he would need to jump over only grew wider and wider the further that he glimpsed.


    The only reassuring thing about his situation was that the individual steps seemed to grow bigger in proportion to the size of the chasm that separates them from the last one.


    That way, at least, he¡¯d have somewhat more flexibility when it came to sticking the landing.


    Sven let out a sigh as he shook his head clear of thoughts as there was really no point in delaying what needed to be done any further, and so he began to muster his willpower.


    Then, after acheiving better footing, he got into a semi-crouch as he prepared to be reckless for perhaps the first time in almost 20 years.


    Knowing that his old body simply didn¡¯t have the power it once had, Sven made sure that he had drawn upon all of his strength before he sprung upwards and outwards.


    The wind made his carefully combed white hair as he heaved out a great breath before he crashed down on the step he¡¯d been aiming for, his knees thwacking against the hard rock.


    ¡°Agh!¡± Sven exclaimed as pain pulsed up from his knee as a new blue panel appeared in his vision.


    ¡ª


    Level Up!


    Your Realm has increased to the [2nd Layer of the Novice]!


    ¡ª


    Sven mostly ignored the damn pop-up as he slowly got up back onto his feet, his lower legs numb as could be.


    Naturally, he waited for that to change before he glanced at the next jump and prepared himself a second time to potentially leap to his death.


    He then repeated what he¡¯d done only a few minutes earlier, but this time his strength carried him only 99% of the way and he had to desperately swing his arms out to catch the step¡¯s ledge.


    Thankfully, he succeeded in gripping the rock hard enough, but his action sent his upper body hurtling into the column of stone, and Sven swore he heard his rib break before he felt it.


    The pain he felt thus only grew more intense as he dangled desperately from the step¡¯s edge.


    He tried, and failed, to pull himself up onto the wide-ish step thanks in large part to the numbness he felt in both his legs, and the pain that he was enduring nullifying any focus that he had.


    But, not desiring to die right here and right now, Sven kept on trying. Until, after exhausting all his body¡¯s energy reserves, he almost accidentally tapped into a stranger form of energy within him.


    An energy that he didn¡¯t express or control with his body, but with his mind.


    Guided by an unfamiliar instinct, Sven pulled on that energy and it began to course throughout all of his body - rejuvenating and enhancing his strength.


    With this extra boost, Sven was, finally, able to pull himself up and onto the step. The instant that he succeeded in doing so, yet another prompt appeared.


    This time, however, Sven spared the pop-up and its predecessor a curious glance.


    ¡ª


    Level Up!


    Your Realm has increased to the [3rd Layer of the Novice]!


    ¡ª


    As he finished reading the short prompt, Sven¡¯s mind¡¯s eye turned inward to the weird energy that he¡¯d just now discovered he had within him.


    And, just as he had suspected, it was now more abundant than it had been a second ago. Meaning that whatever his ¡°realm¡± meant, it was directly related to this ethereal new energy.


    Furthermore, somehow, his realm was connected to the staircase. With each new stair that he was able to traverse granting him a new layer, whatever that meant.


    Sven wasn¡¯t sure exactly how to process such information but he kept it tucked away for now as a short rest break was in order to recover his strength.


    Ten or so minutes later, he climbed to his feet and with a resolute face, he glared at the 9 steps he could see ahead of him, and without a second to waste, he prepared to jump.


    The process pretty much repeated itself for the next nine steps. He¡¯d jump, receive a prompt, then take a break, before jumping again.


    Thanks to his new strange energy, he only had one more close call, and also seemingly thanks to it he was taking less and less damage with every collision.


    His old bones now feeling as tough as they¡¯d ever been, if not tougher, and it wasn¡¯t just his bones that felt stronger than ever.


    Thus, when he finally rose to his feet on the 12th step, he felt amazing. The prompt he received an explanation as to why.


    ¡ª


    Level Up!


    Your Realm has increased to the [12th Layer of the Novice]


    (System Note - You¡¯ve reached the peak of the [Novice] realm! To progress any further you must break into the next realm: the realm of the [Apprentice].)


    ¡ª


    Sven had no idea how exactly one normally went about breaking through to the next realm, but as he stared out over the edge of the step he was on, the more he got a sinking feeling in his chest.


    ¡°It wants me to jump down there, doesn¡¯t it?¡± Sven mumbled to himself as he spotted a small dark stone ledge jutting out of the steep mountain side over 50 or so feet down.


    Now, Sven had never considered himself someone who was particularly scared of heights, but he was born with human survival instincts like everyone else and they were screaming at him that he would be an idiot to go through with the jump as it could only result in a bad time for him.


    But, again, he quashed his fear as there wasn¡¯t exactly a litany of other options open to him. If he didn¡¯t jump, he may never make it down the mountain.


    And, if he didn¡¯t make it down the mountain, he would be forced to live in what little luxury that a mountain can provide, which pure and simple wasn¡¯t good enough for him.


    For example, the thought of never having a cup of tea again truly disturbed him to his core. So, it became only a matter of time before he had let out a sigh and launched himself off his step and, most likely, toward a very painful, if not fatal, landing.

 Chapter 2: Trials

    Wind howled about Sven¡¯s body as he plummeted toward his target in a pencil dive posture, his legs aimed straight down, and his arms plastered to his sides.


    He knew that such a posture was abysmal for jumping off high places, but he was more interested in the narrow pursuit of hitting his target dead on than minimizing impact damage.


    A foolish misplacing of priorities that he soon paid the price for as he heard a great snap upon his collision with the aforementioned dark stone slab target.


    ¡°AGH!¡± Sven roared out in agony as he collapsed, both his legs broken, face first into the hard rock with a loud thud.


    However, taking him totally by surprise, Sven suddenly felt a strange force begin to repair his legs, but not only them but almost every bone in his entire body.


    Sven lay in awe as he felt his body stitch itself back together again.


    If that had been where the force pervading his insides had stopped, Sven wouldn¡¯t have missed the prompt that he received for his successful landing.


    ¡ª


    Rank Up!


    Your Realm has increased from the [12th Layer of the Novice] to the [1st Layer of the Apprentice]!


    (System Note: You have achieved a breakthrough! Extreme physical and spiritual modifications have begun.)


    ¡ª


    As the prompt said explicitly and Sven learned first directly, the force didn¡¯t just repair his body. Its true objective was far less painless than that.


    It began with an odd pressure building up around all of his bones that made Sven squirm as it was without a doubt the most discomforting feeling he¡¯d ever endured.


    Well, it had been until that pressure reached a point where his formerly repaired bones began to crack again, and an all-consuming pain engulfed Sven¡¯s entire body.


    Every bone that he had, from his skull to his toes, began to crack and then, magically, reform, only to then be cracked again, and infused with a certain force.


    Until, at last, his bones didn¡¯t crack again, even after a solid ten minutes of increasing pressure. At which point the pressure abated, leaving Sven to recover from the trauma he¡¯d just endured.


    Panting, his eyes frantic in their sockets, and blood streaming from his nose, it took Sven almost an hour before he finally was able to rise to his feet and read the prompt he¡¯d received.


    As he did, he let out a scoff before dismissing it with a thought. Which, out of nowhere, generated a whole new prompt for him to read. This one, thankfully, not coming with as much pain.


    However, that was only relatively speaking as a strange green symbol appeared on the inside of his left palm, the mark feeling like a hot poker was being pressed against his skin at first.


    ¡ª


    Heavenly Trial Complete!


    Having completed the first of Gaia¡¯s heavenly trials, you are now a step closer to attaining her divine inheritance! Continue to walk this path, claimed child of Gaia, and what awaits you shall be power the likes of which you could only ever dream of now.


    Trial Name: [Trial of the Initiate]


    Trial Difficulty: [Mortal]


    Trials Completed: [1/6]


    Trial Reward:


    -Trait Gained!


    [Mark of Gaia] - Rank: [Mortal] - Having completed the first of the many trials of the Earth Mother, Gaia, you now bear a trace of her divine blessing.


    -Trait Gained!


    [Fruit of the Soil] - Rank: [???] - ???


    ¡ª


    After the pain from the mark imprinting itself on his skin faded, Sven read over the prompt with an extremely heightened curiosity as its contents were more than a little revealing.


    Not only did they reveal why it was exactly that he¡¯d progressed his realm just by jumping from an elevated platform to another platform, but it hinted at the existence of literal gods.


    And Gaia of all gods at that. The fabled goddess of earth. Did that mean that the other Greek gods existed out there somewhere in this world? What about other mythological pantheons?


    Sven had never been much of a bookworm, but that didn¡¯t mean he hadn¡¯t gone through a phase as a youth of obsessing over the various pagan gods and the old myths that went with them.


    The idea of all of those old gods being real was thus a tremendously exciting one until Sven gave himself a brutal reality check by recalling all of the horrid deeds the myths spoke of them doing.


    So, yeah, maybe them being real wasn¡¯t such an overwhelming positive after all.


    Thus, a little more grounded, Sven dismissed the new prompt with a thought, before stretching his muscles and feeling the new power and strength that was contained within them.


    If before he had felt as though the clock had turned back a few dozen years in terms of his upper and lower body strength, now he felt as though he was in his physical prime. If not better.


    It was a strange feeling to have as his skin was still wrinkled, and he still felt as old as ever. Just the weakness of his body had now been somehow overridden by the strange energy within.


    Not exactly knowing what to do with this information, nor how precisely he should react to the sudden transformation, Sven decided to save thinking about it all more deeply for later.


    A decision that his stomach seemed to agree with as it let out a desperate growl at him.


    Scanning the nearby area with his eyes, Sven was glad to see that it seemed that he¡¯d now cleared the last of the stupid obstacles to get down from the mountain.


    Now, all he had to do was hike carefully down the black rock mountain like he would have such an inestimably large chunk of rock back on Earth. By following whatever path seemed safest.


    His feet thusly began to move before even his mind was ready to set off, his hunger and desire for a good cup of tea compelling his body forward.


    Officially beginning the first leg of his journey throughout the world of Empyria.


    <hr>


    Godfrey fell lazily back into his finely cushioned armchair of the common area within the Eleventh Royal Knight Squire Core Barracks, his two half-empty glasses of ale clinking together as he did so.


    Calling the place a barracks though made it sound far grubbier than it was. The barracks were a former royal estate that had been converted into barracks for R-Squires at one point or another.Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.


    Such places were provided for the Royal Squire Cores as to be one, one had to be a noble child or else you¡¯d be relegated to the ordinary squire cores. Who, needless to say, didn¡¯t get palaces to stay in.


    As Godfrey raised one of his glasses to his lips, he heard a familiar soft voice from the corner of the room say, ¡°You seem to be drinking a lot recently, Frey.¡±


    Godfrey¡¯s eyes went wide as he shot up and immediately saluted his captain.


    ¡°C-captain?!¡± He stuttered out as he at last noticed the casually lounging man who sat, reading an old book, in the corner with a somewhat amused expression on his lightly tanned face.


    ¡°Please, retake your seat.¡± The man replied, his words followed by a soft thud as he closed the big book he was reading, his royal emerald green eyes both focusing directly on Godfrey.


    Having been trained since arriving at this academy when he was eight to obey orders, Godfrey was quick to retake his seat. Even a little too enthusiastic as he accidentally spilled ale all over himself.


    He didn¡¯t let that distract him, however, as the captain of his company of squires spoke up, ¡°You¡¯re suddenly drinking a lot more now, Frey, might something be bothering you?¡±


    Godfrey couldn¡¯t help but gulp as the other young man stared curiously at him. While the other man may not be the most intimidating physically, Godfrey had seen his swordsmanship first-hand. That alone convinced him that His Highness was deserving of all the praise that his father, and the instructors, heaped upon him. Something that very much could not be said about some other high noble heirs.


    ¡°Come on, Godfrey, we¡¯ve been comrades in arms since we were but children playing as soldiers. It truly cannot be that bad that you must keep your troubles from me, your captain.¡± The young man then said, dragging Godfrey out of his thoughts and drawing a sigh from his lips.


    ¡°Captain, what troubles me is a highly personal matter.¡± He tried to evade, but the prince did not allow him any of his excuses.


    ¡°Frey, we¡¯ve buried fallen comrades die together, we¡¯ve huddled under the same tattered tent amid winter-claimed territory together, and we¡¯ve both saved each other¡¯s lives on so many occasions that I am not sure either of us know who is in the other¡¯s debt more. I thus think we¡¯re long past keeping personal secrets from each other.¡±


    Godfrey let out another sigh as he placed his two glasses of ale on the nearby table and replied, ¡°I received an urgent letter the other day from my family.¡±


    His Highness raised an eyebrow at his words but he didn¡¯t say anything, allowing Godfrey to speak uninterrupted for as long as it took. However, he didn¡¯t have much more to say.


    But, what he did say, came out only as a faint whisper, ¡°My father is dying.¡±


    The Prince¡¯s face, which was usually as calm as a serene lack front became softer as he asked, ¡°Is it the wound or old age? The former is curable, the latter¡­ not so much.¡±


    Godfrey¡¯s voice cracked as he responded with a fake laugh, ¡°Old age. The old man is too stubborn to die from some old battle wound. Even if it would be much quicker for everyone.¡±


    His Highness gave him an empathetic smile, simply saying, ¡°I see.¡± Before letting the room fall into a state of almost total silence for a few long minutes.


    ¡°Is your father¡¯s tragic condition the only reason for your drinking, Frey?¡± The Prince then inquired in a tone that tried to convey that he didn¡¯t mean to suggest that his father dying wasn¡¯t already enough of a reason for bereavement.


    Godfrey partly cursed how well the man knew him as he shook his head, and everything just came out in a stream of self-indulgence, ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t think I want to inherit my father¡¯s title. Not now. If I become the Baron now, I¡¯ll never be able to bear the seal of a Royal Knight.¡±


    Godfrey paused as he clutched at the sword sheathed at his waist, ¡°All of the time and effort that I put into making a name for myself here, all of the big battles that I¡¯ve fought by your side and under your command, and all of the sacrifices that I¡¯ve had to make along the way. All of it will be rendered null and void.¡±


    His voice grew more strained as he continued, ¡°For what? So I can return to a land I barely know? To head a family I haven¡¯t seen since I was a boy? To exist as a low-ranking nobleman who can be pushed around due to his minuscule power? Is that the kind of life that the Law and the Heavens has seriously doomed me to have? I cannot abide it! Not after all I¡¯ve done! Not after I¡¯ve gained my mark at long last!¡±


    Sven was shaking with rage by the end of his speech, his words indignant and rapturous. Yet, as silence once more fell over the room, he couldn¡¯t help but regret his outburst. It reeked of self-pity, a sentiment he rarely ever indulged in as it went against everything a knight should feel.


    But, as powerless as he felt to stop what felt like an inevitable outcome of his father¡¯s death, there was little else he could feel but self-pity. At least, in his mind.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t know that you were an only child.¡± The prince eventually replied, clearly trying to provide Godfrey with a way out of his situation. But, Godfrey only shook his head in response.


    ¡°After my elder brother died, I swore to be an heir worthy of my parents¡¯ trust and love. To try and pawn off that sacred duty to my siblings would dishonour me more than death ever could.¡±


    His Highness nodded in understanding, before saying, ¡°Then I must confess that I do not know if a solution exists to your problem, but, if I may, I¡¯d like to offer some correction, Frey.¡±


    Straightening up at the young man¡¯s final words, Godfrey answered, ¡°P-please, Captain, go ahead.¡±


    ¡°You are my friend and comrade, Godfrey Emilia Narses, and so long as there is breath in my lungs and mana flowing through my meridians, we shall always be brothers in arms. So, remember that.¡±


    Godfrey was somewhat taken aback by the man¡¯s words as they meant more to him than any sort of word or action could ever express, but he still felt as though he had to try anyway.


    He thus rose to his feet, before swiftly dropping to one knee, ¡°And so long as I live, I shall be yours to command Your Highness. Even to damnation and back again if you so desired.¡±


    The other man¡¯s emerald green eyes seemed to glimmer as he rose to his feet, and walked over to Godfrey and helped him rise back up onto his feet.


    ¡°As a Prince of this Empire, I shall do everything to earn the loyalty you¡¯ve placed in me. But, for now, let us share a drink of ale and perhaps forget both of our problems for a bit.¡±


    <hr>


    Sven couldn¡¯t help but stretch out his back as he reached the bottom of a steep, root-infested, hill whose bottom tree line also happened to be, as far as he could tell, his final destination.


    Emerging from the tree line with a smile a moment later, Sven couldn¡¯t help but smile upon being confronted with a fully flat plain that stretched out before him, faintly illuminated by the moon.


    That smile lasted until he noticed something about said flat plain.


    A frown replaced his earlier naive smile as the familiar sensation of sand being blown against your skin suddenly inundated Sven as an evening breeze blew in his direction.


    ¡®How is this even possible?¡¯ He wondered to himself as he turned his head backwards to see a lush forest covering the slope of the mountain, and then looked ahead to see a barren desert.


    After spending way too long thinking over the implausible science of such a sudden ecological shift, Sven just shook his head and decided that there was no point thinking about it.


    Especially as his throat was beginning to protest almost as loudly as his stomach.


    He had been about to debate whether or not wading into a desert all alone was a good idea when he suddenly received a new blue pop-up containing actually useful¡­ stuff. Sven didn¡¯t know exactly what to call it.


    ¡ª


    Quest Completed!


    Quest Name: Descend! Descend! Descend!


    Rank: [Profound]


    Objectives:


    -[Reach the bottom of the mountain (1/1)


    -HIDDEN: [Clear Gaia¡¯s First Trail (1/1)


    Reward:


    -[(Profound) Intermediate City Scanner] - With a single click of a button, you can scan the horizon for any nearby settlements within a hundred miles.


    -[(Profound) Basic Cornucopia] - Within this horn is the very essence of satiation, fill it with mana to drink from it to meet your everyday dietary needs.


    -(Note: This item is automatically soul-bound.)


    -[(Gold) Gaia¡¯s Heavenly Foundation Forming Pill] - A pill to be digested by a person near the beginning of their journey, grants the consumer an immediate qualitative and quantitative boost to their cultivation.


    Claim all items?


    -YES / NO


    ¡ª


    Sven mentally selected yes without even really thinking about it, and lived to regret it when he felt a damn metal stick fall onto his head as well as a hard little box.


    He thus had to pick the two things up out of the sand before he could make use of either one.


    Before he did any of that, however, he scanned the nearby area in search of the third item, but its presence was either very well masked or well, non-existent.


    Sven then received an explanation via another popup.


    ¡ª


    System Note: Soul-bound items are stored within the confines of your soul. To extract any desired soul-bound item, one need only desire it to be free.


    ¡ª


    ¡°I guess that makes some sense,¡± Sven mumbled before trying to do as the prompt instructed.


    Even if, as he most definitely was, he was unable to make heads or tails regarding the whole souls existing bombshell that he really should have gotten from the Heavenly Transfer prompt.


    But, then again, he hadn¡¯t really taken in all of the info that prompt had given away as he hadn¡¯t even thought it was real. It was thus only now, looking back, that it had any real meaning to him.


    Sven didn¡¯t want to waste any more time, however, so he quickly willed the so-called cornucopia out of his soul, before marvelling at it as it appeared in his hand.


    The Cornucopia took the form of a short white ram¡¯s horn with an open mouth. Sven glanced inside but couldn¡¯t see anything resembling a liquid within the strange item.


    He thus returned his gaze to the system prompt before muttering, ¡°I have to feed it my mana?¡±


    It was only upon saying these words that Sven realized he had been a damn idiot not to think of it sooner. The strange energy he had begun tapping into was... mana.


    No wonder he¡¯d never experienced it before.


    Unfortunately, though, just realizing that hardly helped him as so far he¡¯d only figured out how to infuse his body with mana, and not anything outside of it.


    However, he guessed, if he wanted to be certain of satiating his hunger any time soon, he needed to figure out how to do just that.

 Chapter 3: Oasis

    Sven hated sand. It was coarse and rough, and it got everywhere.


    He especially hated sand when sand possessed a semi-magical ability to find itself in his shoes, or stuck to his skin, as he was in the middle of experimenting with magic for the first time.


    Despite how annoying it was, however, he managed mostly to ignore the fine particulate as he felt that he was drawing closer and closer to being able to infuse the cornucopia with his mana.


    As, in truth, it wasn¡¯t that much more difficult, theoretically speaking, than infusing his fingers or a leg with mana. He just had to will the mana to manifest outside rather than flow inside him.


    But, while theory and practice are identical in theory, in practice, they are distinct, and as Sven had never interacted with mana before a few hours ago, he was struggling to bridge the divide.


    Or, he was until, like a spectral warmth dancing between the fine hairs that lined his arms, he felt a strange ghostly feeling emanate from the point in space directly in front of him.


    Sven stared in awe at the faint golden spark that flickered and flowed before his very eyes.


    Entranced by the literal magic manifesting before him, it took Sven a few minutes before he made the leap to use his new control over mana to fill up his special horn.


    The moment he did, however, his awe only grew as the empty horn began to glow as a liquid the colour of pale moonlight began to slowly fill the ivory walls of the Cornucopia.


    Sven¡¯s hands began to tremble as he slowly raised the mouth of the horn to his dry lips. Then, in a quick motion, he tilted the horn up and began gulping down liquid euphoria.


    The disgusting sound of slurping echoed in the horn and thus also in his ears as he desperately searched for more of the heavenly liquid with his tongue but to no avail.


    Letting out a great breathy ¡°Ah¡±, Sven shivered as he recalled the taste fondly. It had overwhelmed him in an instant. Even if the euphoria only lasted a brief few seconds.


    However, the taste wasn¡¯t the only heavenly reward he¡¯d received for drinking from the horn, as an ethereal blue system prompt that then appeared revealed.


    ¡ª


    Level Up!


    Your Realm has increased to the [2nd Layer of the Apprentice]!


    ¡ª


    Sven still wasn¡¯t sure exactly what the meaning of his realm increasing was, beside that it helped in some way to increase his overall mana, but that alone was enough for him to be happy.


    Especially as he now had an example of how his mana can be used to do incredible things.


    That thought made him glance down at the cornucopia in his hand, and though he had just tasted paradise in liquid form from it, he felt no impulse to try and fill up the horn cup again.


    Not only because he now felt perfectly satiated, but also because he had the sneaking suspicion it would not be wise to drink from it again. At least, not any time in the next 24 hours.


    Sven had no particular rational explanation behind this suspicion, but the idea of abusing the horn in his hand gave him the chills and his gut told him it would be more than a bad idea.


    So, to remove the source of his temptation from view, Sven willed the cornucopia back to where it had emerged from, and just like that, it disappeared from his hand.


    Sven then tried to shake his head clear of the strange mythical treasure and instead focused on a slightly more pressing matter. He smelt like bad news.


    It was largely as a result of the blood that soaked his clothes from the early injuries he¡¯d suffered, but the litres of sweat that had built up as he had hiked, and the fecal matter of some unknown beast that he must have accidentally stepped in didn¡¯t help things much.


    Sven thus desired nothing more than a good bath and fresh clothes. Two things that he needed to find a human settlement of some kind to acquire.


    Which led his focus naturally to the small metal thing he¡¯d picked up earlier: the City scanner.


    The scanner looked a bit like one of those devices that police use to measure the speed of cars that were driving down the motorway before fixed cameras and AI could do all the work.


    Sven had always been one of the more technologically adept of his generation, but the gadget he held in his hand was quite literally foreign to him in every respect.


    There were no buttons or lit interfaces, just a small metal box atop a metal stick with a small glass window that gave no outward indication of it being on or even working.


    No matter how hard he pressed the glass with his fingers, nothing happened, which meant that its interface, if it even had one, wasn¡¯t operating off of touchscreen.


    With all of his Earthly new tech tricks tried, tested, and failed, Sven tried infusing the new gadget with mana. Which, at last, caused a faint red light to in the glass window.


    The scanner seemed to process something for a second before a small red arrow appeared which told Sven to veer left of his current position.


    ¡°How nifty,¡± Sven muttered in appreciation of the simplicity of the magical GPS, before he brushed off what sand had got on his clothes and bare skin, and then prepared to move off.


    But, before he did, he glanced at the small wooden box that lay in his right palm. Inside was a pill that would perhaps boost his realm further.


    Yet, out of an abundance of caution, and partly due to his nose¡¯s vociferous demands for swift and decisive resolution of his smell problem, Sven did not eat the pill then and there.


    Instead, he just about managed to fit the box in his pocket, before he at last set off in the direction that the city scanner pointed him in the hopes of at last finding a place for him in this new world.


    As if responding to this desire, a new prompt appeared in front of Sven that made him sure of the path he was walking, and thus made him hasten his pace.


    ¡ª


    Quest Gained!


    Quest Name: Narses Or Nothing


    Rank: [Profound]


    Objectives: [Find the Oasis City of Narses (0/1)


    Reward: ???


    ¡ª


    <hr>


    Winona let out an exhausted sigh as she casually shoved her ragged and worn work gloves into the large communal basket before trying her best to brush off the dirt from her outer disciple robe.This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Her frustration at the fact that the dirt would not do as she wanted was only compounded when a colleague she always tried her best to avoid came skipping into the room with a goofy smile.


    ¡°Wyn!¡± The woman called out as she gracefully removed her gloves before adding them to the big hand-weaved wooden basket as well. Her pair stood out in the pile for their relative cleanliness.


    Winona had no idea why the woman insisted on calling her Wyn, but ever since the woman made her big announcement the other day, Winona no longer tried correcting her.


    ¡°Yes, Ashley?¡± She then replied with as neutral a voice as she could muster, all the while secretly in her head imagining herself already on the walk back to her room.


    The other woman smiled brightly as she gushed, ¡°The senior disciples say that a patch of decade-old ginseng root will be maturing soon. They wanted to know if we were interested in helping the sect to harvest it all.¡±


    Winona internally sighed before she replied, diplomatically, ¡°Ashley, I think they were more asking if you wanted to help them out. I¡¯ve not heard anything about this ginseng root patch.¡±


    The other woman¡¯s face turned confused as she responded, ¡°No. I¡¯m pretty sure they invited all of us. At least, that is what I heard from Jeremy.¡±


    And, just like that, Winona had no interest in continuing this conversation.


    ¡°Well, if there is a real second helper slot available, I¡¯d be happy to help with the harvesting of the patch. Anyway, I have to go now. Got some meditation to do.¡± She said, turning toward the exit.


    Before she could take another step, however, a strong hand gripped her shoulder, and the face of a pouting Ashley met her as she accepted her fate and turned back around.


    ¡°Come on, Wyn!¡± The woman intoned, ¡°All you do these days is meditate. Why not come out with me to the city and we can have fun visiting all of the cool merchant stands? It¡¯ll be fun!¡±


    Winona looked into the other girl¡¯s eyes as she replied, a little bit of her frustration in her voice, ¡°I am on the cusp of being kicked out of the sect, Ashley, all I can afford to do is meditate.¡±


    ¡°I get that, Wyn, I do.¡± The other woman retorted, not all that convincingly, before countering, ¡°But that is no reason not to have fun now and again.¡±


    Winona had been about to reaffirm that she really couldn¡¯t afford to be messing around when she was only weeks away from being tossed out onto the streets, but she didn¡¯t make it that far.


    As, before she could even make her reply, the other woman added, enthusiastically, ¡°Oh, and, you and I both know that getting too worked up over a breakthrough makes any bottleneck worse!¡±


    Winona stared at the woman who had, even if Winona could only begrudgingly admit it to herself, not made a bad point, and judging by her interlocutor¡¯s face, she knew she had won.


    If the woman had remained silent for a minute longer, Winona could¡¯ve seen herself reluctantly, in the spirit of clearing her mind of all mental blockages, agreeing to her co-worker''s request.


    But, then, the woman tried to seal the deal by offering something Winona would never want, so as a result Winona instead grimaced internally as the woman added in a sugary voice.


    ¡°Plus, if you come out and have fun with me, I¡¯ll ask Jeremy if one of his friends can help you take the all-important step into the Apprentice realm.¡±


    In response, Winona shook her shoulders free of the woman¡¯s grip and doubled down on the fact that she was busy, then briskly walked over to the wooden door, and ascended the staircase.


    All the while ignoring the calls of ¡°Wyn!¡± from behind her.


    As she reached the top of the staircase and emerged into the sect¡¯s spiritual herb processing area, she did as she always did and quietly walked past the rows of disciples sitting on long benches.


    Then, without making a sound, she pushed open one of the side doors and emerged out onto one of the sect¡¯s many sandstone courtyards and took the quickest path she knew back to her room.


    Her mind roiled with thoughts as the warm summer sun beat down on her.


    But, only once she was firmly within the privacy of her room, did she allow herself to properly engage in introspection as she freed her blond hair from its veil with a sigh, before laying down.


    If the world was fair, Ashley really wouldn¡¯t get on her nerves as much as she did. If fairness even existed in this world, they¡¯d be best friends by now. They were two of the small group of female outer disciples, both of them interested in one day becoming an alchemist, and both were, at a young age, considered rather talented when it came to cultivation.


    Yet, somehow, Winona found herself unable to stand talking to the woman, and that bothered her as she knew full well that it wasn¡¯t her precisely that she disliked. It was the people around her. Or, to be more specific, the men that she surrounded herself with.


    But, just thinking about those lust-filled bastards threatened to give her heart demons, so she tried to clear her mind of the whole subject by searching her litany of thoughts for other things.


    Before long, her mind had returned to a far more familiar dwelling place - despair.


    She had been only 14 years old when she¡¯d reached the peak of the [Novice] realm, and yet, even though she was about to turn 18, she hadn¡¯t made any progress in her cultivation.


    And, if she was being honest, at this point she couldn¡¯t see herself ever breaking through. After all, she had tried everything, but nothing had so far seemed to do anything for her.


    She¡¯d spent the last few months spending almost every second that she wasn¡¯t forced to work to meet the weekly contribution point quota cultivating in an attempt to brute force it.


    Yet, still, her realm wouldn¡¯t budge. It was as though she were swallowed by quicksand, and now it was just waiting for her last pockets of air/hope to be depleted to deliver the final blow.


    Making it all worse, she knew exactly when that aforementioned final blow would land. The day of her 18th birthday. And the person who¡¯d be delivering that blow would be the Sect Master.


    She would be removed from the sect registry, her belongings confiscated, and she¡¯d be forced to either make a system oath of secrecy and leave, or else become the property of the sect.


    Neither fate appealed to Winona, with the latter making her skin crawl. But, unless she managed to break through, she¡¯d have to choose one of them. As the sect didn¡¯t tolerate ¡°talentless¡± people.


    The waning fire of determination in her chest flared briefly as she forced herself to sit up.


    Then, for the millionth time in the last 4 years, she crossed her legs, closed her eyes, and began to meditate. Hoping, with all the hope she had left, that today would be the day that she¡¯d do it.


    That today would be the day when she¡¯d finally break through and at last be able to stand strong once again. That today wouldn¡¯t be like all of the other days prior.


    But, for the millionth time in the last 4 years, when exhaustion finally dragged her out of her focus and she collapsed unconscious, she was still nowhere close to breaking through.


    <hr>


    Time passed like a breeze as Sven walked with a single-minded focus across a vast empty plain of sand, over the shifting dunes, while the cool desert night dulled his nerves. The only time that he had stopped walking was to observe the rising of the sun over the horizon.


    Yet, more surprising than the rosy beauty of an Empyrean Sunrise, was the fact that despite having spent almost 19 hours straight walking, neither his old bones or muscles were aching one bit.


    Nor, in fact, did he feel particularly tired despite his last sleep being over a day ago.


    With no other explanation in view for this new supernatural stamina of his, Sven once again could only thank his lucky star that he had endured that trial and increased his realm so much.


    As, while nothing had attacked him yet, he had glimpsed quite a few terrifying creatures off in the distance that would have made any attempt to sleep out the night a potentially fatal error.


    Sven did his best not to think about the hideous monstrosities he had glimpsed and was helped in this task by the sudden blinking of the scanner he held in his left hand as he crested a dune.


    A smile soon grew on his face as he looked out ahead of him, and through the distortions that the heat from the sun created, he spotted grand walls of sandstone that surrounded a vast cityscape.


    A humongous urban metropolis sat around and beside a large body of crystal clear water that glimmered gold under the intense light of day.


    More importantly, however, when he glanced at the towering city gates ahead of him, he saw that the line to get in was remarkably short and yet full of a variety of different-looking people.


    There were men in light robes, women wearing simple dresses and head coverings, and people in all sorts of other outfits that made Sven comfortable trekking down the dune to join the line.


    Even if his modern clothes were definitely unlike anything anyone else was wearing, his journey down the mountain had done much to muddy and ruin them to the point of unrecognizability.


    Which would, hopefully, make him stand out less compared to some of the other people in line.


    And, so it did. For a while at his approach, he received a few glances, but no one truly paid him attention once he joined the line and began to queue patiently like everyone else.


    He stood in line, mostly in silence, for the next ten minutes as the people in front of him, including a group of merchants travelling by horse-drawn wagon, were processed by the armoured guards.


    Then, he stepped forward and one of the guards, a muscled man with remarkable light brown skin and a rich dark moustache, spared him a glance before ordering, ¡°Name and purpose for entry.¡±


    ¡°My name is Sven Mikhailov. And I wish to enter the city to bathe, acquire new clothes, and in time build a new life for myself.¡± Sven replied honestly, not seeing any reason to lie to the official.


    The guard looked at him sceptically for a moment, before shrugging his shoulder and saying in an unexcited voice, ¡°If you wish to stay in the city for longer than a month, you¡¯ll need to join one of the professional guilds as, let me tell you, the last thing this city needs is more wretched beggars.¡±


    Sven nodded in understanding, ignoring the man¡¯s callous remark, and the man then handed him a copper medal of sorts, explaining, ¡°This is your entry visa. It¡¯s valid for a month and month only.¡±


    The man then turned gruff as he added, ¡°Got it?¡±


    ¡°Yes sir,¡± Sven replied affirmatively, though he had no idea how a medieval society could ever keep track of hundreds of city entrants, but, judging by the man¡¯s look, they very much could.


    With his threat levied, the guard then gestured at him to go through the gate, and so he did. Sven earned his very first up close and personal look at the Oasis city of Narses.

 Chapter 4: Beginnings

    Never before had Sven felt so privileged to be elderly as when he at last submerged his frail naked frame into the hot water of the city¡¯s bathhouse and felt his worries disappear in an instant.


    He felt privileged as the bathhouse charged its client¨¨le for entry. Unless it turned out, you were an elderly person, and in that case, you were ushered in and guided to the best bath in the house.


    Furthermore, the young lad that had guided Sven to the large pool had shown him a considerable amount of deference all the way, to such an extent it made Sven feel a bit awkward.


    Having come from nothing as a kid to being treated like some kind of revered elder or lord was¡­ odd, and he didn¡¯t know if he could ever get used to it.


    Regardless, Sven was grateful as he could almost feel the stench of blood and sweat wash right off him as he tended to his body with the hot water of the bath.


    After he felt as though he was clean, he let himself relax and take in the atmosphere as he read his latest system prompt.


    ¡ª


    Quest Completed!


    Quest Name: Narses Or Nothing!


    Rank: [Profound]


    Objectives:


    -[Find the Oasis City of Narses (1/1)


    Reward:


    -[(Silver) Greater Body Refining Elixir] - Consume to strengthen your body¡¯s physical integrity.


    Claim item?


    -YES / NO


    ¡ª


    Sven didn¡¯t have much space in his pockets with what he had claimed already, so Sven decided he would wait to claim the item until he at least had some kind of place to store it.


    Thus, with the prompt read, his eyes began to wander.


    There were at least two hundred people around him, and naturally, they were all men as this was a gender-segregated bathhouse. But, some were younger, while others, like him, were old.


    Sven did notice that a lot of the younger men were chatting with the older men, though he quickly ascertained from overhearing a few conversations that they were sons talking to their fathers.


    And, from what little of the conversations he picked up, Sven approximated that a trip to the bathhouse must be this city¡¯s equivalent of a dad taking his son out on a camping trip or out hunting.


    In other words, it was time set apart for some good ol'' father-son bonding.


    Thus, as a childless old man whose pale skin tone gave away the fact he wasn¡¯t from this area, Sven was soon feeling rather out of place and isolated which disrupted his relaxation.


    So, he quickly scrubbed himself off one last time, before he rose out of the bath, and walked to the area where the young man had told him his clothes would be kept.


    He was thus pleasantly surprised when he found his clothes not only exactly where the young man had said, but also having been expertly cleaned and laid beside the items he¡¯d had on him.


    Sven marvelled at his tidy overalls and clean white work shirt, before redressing.


    Once he was fully clothed again in his still little bit battered, but now clean, clothes, he walked out of the bathhouse after thanking the young man and squinted as he was hit by the sun¡¯s light.


    Many curious eyes glanced his way as he stepped onto the city¡¯s sandstone streets, but none went further than looking and gossiping as they all went about their day.


    Sven once more took in the sights of the buildings all around him as he pondered what to do next after having a good bath, he hadn¡¯t come up with anything to do in this new world.


    Plus, with his sudden access to magic, there was a whole new realm of professions and hobbies for him to try out and explore.


    That thought made him remember the words of the guard at the city gate and he grimaced as he recalled the ¡®you don¡¯t to find out what¡¯ll happen if you push it¡¯ look the man had given him.


    As a result of that, and also desperately needing to acquire money, Sven decided that finding one of these professional guilds to join should be his next move.


    But, not knowing the city at all, he had no idea where to even start looking. So, putting on the full confused old person charm, he hailed down a man walking in front of him and asked him about it.


    The man gave him a warm-ish smile back as he replied, ¡°Oh? The guilds? They¡¯re all by the oasis. If you¡¯re looking for a job, elder, I am afraid I don¡¯t think there¡¯ll be many guilds that¡¯ll employ you.¡±


    Sven brushed off the man¡¯s comment with an, ¡°I see¡±, before thanking the man and heading off in the direction of the vast body of water.


    The air began to cool ever so slightly with each step that he took until it was almost a reasonable temperature as he exited an alleyway onto a large stone circular promenade that ringed the lake.


    Thousands of other people walked on either side of him chatting and laughing with one another as they enjoyed the cooler temperature, and some even dared to climb into the water for a swim.


    Sven didn¡¯t see any lifeguards anywhere but he guessed that was only to be expected and so his focus shifted to reading all of the signs that hung from the fronts of various tall stone buildings.


    This area of the city seemed to be much wealthier than the other portions he¡¯d been in as he was able to spot a few wooden features on each building, whereas it had been all sandstone and some sort of dull brown-ish, yellow-ish, building material so far.


    However, as he glanced at each new sign, he began to notice a marked difference between a few of the most opulent buildings in the city that he¡¯d seen so far.


    Those buildings that harboured guilds that were ordinary sounding, like the miner, seamster, shoe maker guilds, etc, were all relatively modest in comparison to the buildings with magic-based guilds.


    The building that Sven currently eyed outshining the rest with its opulence. The sign hanging over its door was made out of a rich dark wood and the text on it read: ¡°Alchemist¡¯s Guild¡±.


    The only exception to this general rule was the second-best building that Sven saw which housed the city¡¯s merchant guild, which made sense as merchants dealt in both areas, magical and not.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Yet, the building that Sven ended up walking inside was probably the least opulent of the guild buildings for it belonged to the likely all non-magical builders guild.


    Why had he chosen this particular guild?


    Well for the simple reason that it was his safest option, and, hopefully, his magical strength would help him get a job even despite his advanced age.


    That job could then pay for an inn for a bit as he got himself acquainted with this new world more.


    Then, once he had got a good grip on things, he could explore going into one of the more magical fields of work, but that would still likely take a considerable investment of time and money to do. Which was more of a reason as to why getting a basic job first mattered.


    Yet, the moment he walked into the building, and the 6 foot 3 inch muscle man that stood at the reception desk shot him a ¡®what in the hell are you doing¡¯ glare, he briefly doubted his reasoning.


    The iron-clad necessity of getting this job, however, then rebuffed that doubt from his head as he continued his walk up to the mahogany reception desk to confront the man behind it.


    ¡°Get out of here old coot, there¡¯s no way you¡¯d survive on one of our sites.¡± The gruff giant said in a dismissive tone as he tried to wave Sven away.


    Sven raised an eyebrow at the younger man and asked, ¡°Oh really? I¡¯m pretty strong and if it is an issue of endurance you¡¯re concerned with, I think you¡¯ll find I¡¯m more than durable.¡±


    ¡°Ahuh, ahuh. Sure you are.¡± The man replied with a scoff.


    Knowing he¡¯d likely get nowhere with just words alone considering his appearance, Sven decided to allow actions to speak louder than his words.


    So, trusting in his body¡¯s newfound strength, he placed his elbow onto the table and proffered, ¡°If you are so sure of my weakness, then I¡¯m sure you wouldn¡¯t mind a small contest.¡±


    The tall man looked at him with an amused expression for a moment before letting out a laugh, ¡°I don¡¯t think I¡¯ve ever had a beggar challenge me to an arm wrestle before!¡±


    Sven shot the man a confused look as he replied, ¡°I am no beggar.¡±


    The man only shrugged in response, ¡°Well I know you¡¯re a foreigner, and, in this city, that usually means either you¡¯re a beggar looking for scraps or a wealthy cultivator asshole.¡±


    The man then gestured at Sven, ¡°And, judging by the fact that you¡¯re looking for a job in this here guild, and your aura hasn¡¯t crushed me to death, I can confidently ascertain you¡¯re probably the former.¡±


    Sven didn¡¯t know how he was supposed to respond to that but he guessed he couldn¡¯t argue the logic, so instead he deflected with, ¡°Either way, do you accept the contest or not?¡±


    ¡°Of course fucking not.¡± The man replied with a laugh. ¡°I don¡¯t want to break your arm, old man.¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯d rather I rot on the streets penniless than potentially suffer a broken arm in the unlikely scenario that I lose?¡± Sven inquired, finding the man¡¯s moral compass rather confused.


    The tall figure¡¯s eyebrows furrowed at his moral probing before sighing and saying, ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll do you one better than just a silly arm wrestling bout. Let''s wager on this contest of strength.¡±


    ¡°Ok,¡± Sven replied, not seeing where the man was going with this.


    ¡°If you win, I give you a job. If I win, you leave the city and go find a nice farm out in the middle of nowhere in the land beyond the black mountains and live out the rest of your days there. Alright?¡±


    Sven smiled and then nodded his head, which finally made the other man bend down and place his elbow on the opposite side of the desk.


    A moment later they clasped hands, and immediately Sven¡¯s opponent looked surprised by Sven¡¯s grip strength.


    But, it was too late for the man to regret his earlier confidence, as Sven pushed his mana into his arm and it felt as easy as pushing over a paper tower to slam the other man¡¯s hand into the table.


    ¡°Ah, fuck!¡± The man shouted as he withdrew his hand which was now red from the impact, ¡°You¡¯re fucking strong, old man! You should¡¯ve warned me!¡±


    Sven smiled a knowing smile as he retorted, ¡°I think you¡¯ll find the first thing that I did was warn of my strength. You were just too arrogant to listen if I remember correctly?¡±


    Instead of getting angry at being chastised, the other man laughed as he nodded his head, ¡°Yeah, yeah, I guess you¡¯re right. Fuck. Well, anyway, I guess I lost the wager. So, good job, you¡¯re hired.¡±


    <hr>


    Winona felt as though heaven and earth were weighing down upon her shoulder as a man whose glare could kill a weak cultivator like her in an instant fell upon her kowtowing form.


    Then, his voice, though spoken at a regular volume, thundered in her ears, ¡°Winona Argyle. I must say, you have disappointed even the lowest of my earlier expectations for you.¡±


    Tears threatened to stream from her eyes the instant the man¡¯s incontrovertible judgment was issued, condemning her to forever be viewed as pathetic in the eyes of every cultivator in the city.


    ¡°This Dune Serpent Sect took you in when you were but a foolish girl begging for scraps. We gave you a home, our elders taught you our technique, and I vouched for your talent before the city.¡±


    Winona flinched as he heard the man suddenly rise to his feet before he bellowed, ¡°And what do we receive in return for our benevolence?! A talentless wench who wastes our resources?!¡±


    Winona¡¯s whole body began to shake as tears streamed down her cheeks. The man¡¯s words were infused with such power that they even managed to penetrate her body and inflict grievous wounds onto her very soul.


    Her silent sobs soaked into the wooden floor of the sect master¡¯s hall as the room fell quiet.


    Winona had no idea how long she spent crying there in the deathly quiet before she heard the odd creaking of wood as the sect master retook his seat.


    Then, he sighed, and continued, ¡°Needless to say, I shall not allow this insult to my Sect stand. I¡¯m hereby suspending you, Winona Argyle, from this sect indefinitely.¡±


    The words came like a final hammer crushing what hope lay in her chest before the killing blow was dealt a second later.


    ¡°You thus have two choices if you wish to leave this room alive. Swear the system oath of secrecy and forgo any pretense of honour, or work to repay your debts as a thrall of this here sect.¡±


    Winona had to muster all of the strength in her body to reply in a cracked and broken voice, ¡°I will take the oath of secrecy, master.¡±


    The mighty black robe wearing man scoffed, before rising to his feet and spitting in her direction as he turned around before walking slowly out of the room.


    A sect elder bearing a blood-coloured scroll then walked into the room with a cold expression, then threw the scroll at her feet and ordered, ¡°Sign the scroll with your blood, mongrel.¡±


    With jittery hands, she unfurled the scroll before her, and after biting down hard on her thumb, she imprinted the blood that came pouring out of her mangled finger onto the scroll and felt an unbreakable bond form around her soul.


    The elder sneered at her before simply ordering, ¡°Now get out of this sect or die.¡±


    Trembling as she rose to her feet, Winona couldn¡¯t even meet the elder¡¯s gaze as she ran, her eyes coated in tears, her vision blurred with the consequence of her failures.


    And, as she suffered the glares of her former junior and senior disciples, she couldn¡¯t help but feel as though she were once more the helpless girl that the sect had found back then.


    A beggar¡¯s daughter sold to a merchant so that her mother could afford to travel to the land that lay beyond the black mountain and escape the streets of Narses.


    Yet, somehow, she began to feel worse as her mind tortured her as only it could. As, at least back then, though she¡¯d not known it, there had been hope at a better life just waiting for her. But, now, she had just scorned her one hope of a happy life.


    And, if there was one saying that now raged in her mind as she scrambled out onto the streets of Narses, it was: ¡°Heaven never grants the same blessing twice.¡±


    In other words, her life, which had never been great to begin with, was already over.


    <hr>


    Sven let out a satisfied sigh as he hopped down from the roof of the building he and the crew had just been working on, and he was met by a beautiful sight.


    A bowl of cool oasis water had been left out on the wall by the adorable daughter of the man who they were currently building a house for.


    Sven happily splashed his face with the cold water, washing away the sweat while at the same time trying to get any rubble out of his messy white hair.


    However, a sort of sadness welled up within him as he finished washing up, as it was finally time.


    He¡¯d spent the last 4 or so months hard at work, not only at his job but at the task of gathering all of the information he needed to know about this new world and it¡¯s inhabitants.


    This had allowed him to quickly come to a good understanding of the layout of the city, a working knowledge of this land¡¯s culture and people, as well as what mana-based job appealed to him.


    He¡¯d managed the latter two things by spending almost all of his weeks pay visiting the city library which housed a great number of books on a whole variety of subjects.


    Including, much to Sven¡¯s pleasant surprise, magic and magical theory.


    It really shouldn¡¯t have come as a surprise, though, as the fee to enter the library was bordering on the extortionate, and that was for Sven who didn¡¯t have to buy food or water every day.


    Thus, for the most part, the library seemed to be the preserve of the city¡¯s middle to upper classes, who nearly all, to a man, possessed some kind of magic and therefore cultivation.


    Sven truly meant to say ¡°to a man¡± as while there were plenty of women in the library at any given time, it was rare that they displayed any kind of magic or exuded any kind of aura.


    He didn¡¯t know if that was because they were just being more considerate or what, but noticing it had gotten Sven to try and be more perceptive of the cultural norms of the city regardless.


    And, before long, he had come to a simple, obvious, conclusion.


    This world was fully medieval, and not just in the technological sense. A reality that he felt somewhat uncomfortable with due to his modern, ish, sensibilities, but that he had no real ability to change.


    At least, not yet.


    Thus, he had mostly stuck to himself while in the library, reading as much as he could on a subject that had captured his attention ever since he¡¯d walked along the Oasis District¡¯s promenade.


    That being, of course, alchemy.

 Chapter 5: Alchemy

    On the face of it, there hadn¡¯t been any real reason that Sven would feel attracted to becoming an alchemist. Beyond the fact that it was clear that alchemists were by far the richest people in town.


    This was because, back on Earth, he had not enjoyed science. That wasn¡¯t to say he had done that badly in science class, but he had just never found that it was a subject that clicked with him.


    Hence, in the ensuing five and a bit decades after he graduated, he had gradually shed any insight into the workings of particles, or the evolution of species, that his teachers had tried to bequeath to him.


    But, despite having been a precursor to science on Earth, alchemy in Empyria was different to science in almost every conceivable way.


    While the scientific method called for repeatability and peer verification, the alchemical method, if one could even call it that, implied that the product of alchemy necessarily differs from like items.


    The books that he¡¯d read hadn¡¯t bothered to explain why that was exactly, but they did hint that it had something to do with the esoteric properties of mana.


    Which, as far as explanations go, was beyond unhelpful. Being essentially sum-upable as ¡°magic is mystical and arbitrary, deal with it.¡± But, it was the best he had so far garnered, so Sven could only run with that explanation until he found more advanced books to read which would hopefully clue him in a bit more.


    However, though knowing alchemical theory was important, the books he¡¯d read also emphasized that all such knowledge was empty of meaning without engaging in the craft of alchemy itself.


    Only through practice, it was believed, would insight into the nature of the esoteric be unlocked as only through experience could one gain a feel for those aforementioned esoteric properties.


    Thus, once Sven felt as though he knew enough basic theory, he saved up a month¡¯s worth of pay and, skipping out on any more library sessions he then purchased a bare-bones alchemy set.


    And, now, with today¡¯s pay in hand, he¡¯d have enough to pay for the last ingredient he needed to make the easiest potion for him to make - a potion of hunger-reduction.


    The potion was the easiest for him to make as the ingredients needed to concoct it weren¡¯t that costly as most of them could be gained locally. Something that couldn¡¯t be said of other potions.


    A sad smile appeared on his face as he thought over the reality that if everything regarding potion making went well for him, he¡¯d likely no longer be able to, nor desire to, do the job that he had.


    Which meant he¡¯d likely be saying goodbye to his co-workers, and the adorable young girl Emily, quite soon. A sad truth indeed as it had taken him a while to ingratiate himself with his colleagues.


    The ingrained suspicion his co-workers had toward foreigners had been a major stumbling block between them for the first few weeks. Yet, once Sven had shown them all he could contribute, and dazzled them with his old man charm, he had managed to win them over. Even if some still didn¡¯t act normally when they were around him.


    Sven didn¡¯t mind this slight awkwardness though, as he¡¯d gone through the same thing as a kid. His disgruntled Russian parents having not bothered to teach him how to speak English.


    Furthermore, he felt that the distance was also a positive for him as it meant that he was given lots of alone time in which to think about all of the stuff he needed/wanted to do in this world to properly establish a new life here.


    Case in point, even though he¡¯d been standing by the water bowl for more than five minutes, not a soul from the crew bothered to call him out or anything.


    Not wanting to push it, however, and also fearing the foreman might return soon, Sven returned a moment later back up to the roof of the building they were working on and resumed hammering.


    All the while his mind was full to bursting with an almost child-like excitement as tonight would be the night that he¡¯d finally become an alchemist. The system also wanted him to get on with achieving his goal as it granted him a new quest.


    ¡ª


    Quest Gained!


    Quest Name: Humble Beginnings


    Rank: [Mortal]


    Objectives: [Create your very first potion (0/1)


    Reward:


    -The [Alchemist] Class


    -???


    ¡ª


    <hr>


    Sven couldn¡¯t stop himself from shivering even as he moved closer to the old metal dixie pot that he planned on using as his make-shift cauldron.


    Due to obvious reasons, he wasn¡¯t going to start a fire in his nice inn room, and so he¡¯d had to go and find a spot somewhere outside the city where he could start his alchemical career.


    Which meant, unfortunately, he had to endure the freezing temperature of the desert in autumn in nigh total darkness beside the fire that he only just about kept alive with his mana.


    It hadn¡¯t taken him that long to pick up the basics of elemental magic as all it required was that he will his mana to transform hard enough, but he was still proud of himself nonetheless.


    But, he pushed that pride aside for a moment to triple-check that he had all the items he needed.


    When he had confirmed with a nod that everything he needed was indeed present, he picked the mortar and pestle up, and then threw a few brownish thistle stems into it and began to grind.


    The mature desert thistle weed ground easily thanks to Sven¡¯s enhanced strength, but he also had to be careful not to apply so much pressure that he broke the mortar.


    This made even the first step in the long process to follow a challenge as up till then, Sven had felt no sense of urgency in learning to control his strength, but now he suddenly had to.


    He quickly ascertained this reality and, having always been a quick practical learner, he learned the art of controlling his power was quite simple, he just had to keep his mana flow under control.


    With the thistle turned into a fine brown powder, Sven poured it very carefully into the boiling pot full of water. At this point, the true challenge of the brewing process began. The following steps tested both his speed, accuracy, and depth of his mind and his true level of mana control.


    Sven¡¯s right hand began to glow gold as he floated it over the steaming hot pot and began to use his mana to keep the heat from just evaporating the water powder mixture.


    As he did this he had to count down in his head and when he reached zero, he thrust his left hand out and grabbed the chili-looking berry from the ground nearby and threw it in the pot.


    The mixture immediately began to react as the book said it would, which is to say, it reacted in an incredibly violent fashion, as the muddy-looking water in the pot devoured the red flame berry.You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    This sort of reaction immediately began to put additional strain on Sven¡¯s control as a foreign type of mana began to interfere with his control.


    But, Sven held strong. He kept his control over the pot and its contents firm. Until, at last, the last of the red flame berry¡¯s spiritual energy was absorbed, making the water look more disgusting.


    If before the water had looked like diluted sewage, now it looked like¡­ well¡­ diluted bloody-Yeah, that was not a good image, and so Sven instantly tried clearing his mind of it.


    The brief lapse in focus, however, came back to bite him instantly as he was hit by a sudden burst of said interesting mixture right to the face, threatening to overwhelm his senses.


    Like a stoic hero enduring a thousand wounds and yet continuing to fight on, however, he forbade himself from failing his first brew just because the mixture had looked disgusting.


    He thus boldly reasserted his control over the heated pot as he pushed mana into the fire he had set up beneath the pot, making it roar as it began shifting colour from orange to blue.


    It was at this point that Sven began to regret his poverty as the metal pot began heating up to a point where it couldn¡¯t handle it by itself.


    Which, naturally, added another thing that Sven had to aid by supplying his mana. Adding more mental strain onto his already encumbered mind.


    Pain and exhaustion began to pulse from his skull as each new second passed and the mixture in the make-do cauldron reached a whole new temperature and yet was prevented from boiling.


    Then, it happened. The liquid began to turn yellow, the signal for him to add the final ingredient.


    With his left hand, Sven began to probe his surroundings until he found the mug full of ale and he zoomed it over to the pot and poured in the alcoholic beverage.


    The potion¡¯s recipe had called for alcohol, but Sven had no idea how one was supposed to distil a sample of pure ethanol so he had just decided to settle for a pint of ale.


    A choice he didn¡¯t regret as the liquid began changing the way he wanted. Even if the mixture was not as bright as before. Potion brightness, according to the book, was a key sign of quality.


    Sven didn¡¯t care about that though as it wasn¡¯t his fault that he was poor in this world and as a result, couldn¡¯t afford any better ingredients.


    All that mattered to him at that moment was that he was only a single step from success.


    After taking a huge gulp, and forcing a brief moment of mental over-exertion, he pushed all of his will into his voice and bellowed his first sacred word, ¡°Concoct.¡±


    Sparks of golden energy instantly began to erupt from the mixture as Sven felt the huge weight, that just a matter of seconds ago had felt overwhelming, disappear completely.


    He let out an excited laugh before he began scrambling to grab the dirty glass bottles that he had bought to store his new creation in.


    Ignoring the resurgent cold barraging him from all directions in the form of a chilly gale, Sven got to work carefully filling each bottle until his now slightly malformed pot was empty of content.


    Then, being barely able to contain his curiosity, Sven made use of a skill he had the feeling he¡¯d be using a lot more from now on. Analysis.


    The skill brought up a new blue panel for him to read as he also received a certain quest complete prompt which was accompanied by yet another damn pop-up.


    Feeling a bit overwhelmed, Sven let out a sigh before he made the call to just go through them one at a time. Starting with the analysis prompt.


    ¡ª


    [Potion of Hunger Reduction] - Rank: [Copper] - Quality: [E] - Drink to lessen your yearning for food, but only if you¡¯re truly desperate, as this potion is full of imperfections and so will be more harmful to you than just waiting a few days or hours to eat normal food.


    ¡ª


    Sven¡¯s eyebrow raised in pleasant surprise as he saw the quality of his first potion wasn¡¯t [F] as the book had all but declared any beginner¡¯s first potion would be.


    And, if he was being honest, that was all he cared about in the description as all the negative stuff was to be expected as he had had frankly terrible ingredients and gear.


    Which way why he was overall rather pleased as he lowered his gaze to look at the next prompt.


    <b>¡ª</b>


    <b>Quest Completed!</b>


    <b>Quest Name: Alchemical Beginnings!</b>


    <b>Rank: [Mortal]</b>


    <b>Objectives:</b>


    <b>-[Create your very first potion (1/1)]</b>


    <b>Reward:</b>


    <b>-Class: [Alchemist]</b>


    <b>-[(Iron) Novice¡¯s Cauldron] - A crude steel cauldron designed to withstand the force of a novice alchemist¡¯s first many failures at his craft.</b>


    <b>Claim items?</b>


    <b>-YES / NO</b>


    <b>--</b>


    A small smile dawned on Sven¡¯s face as he selected yes and a good-as-new cauldron, which had walls that were much shorter and thicker than his make-do pot, appeared in his lap.


    He then picked up the cauldron and put it to the side for now as he glanced at the final pop-up.


    This ethereal blue panel possessed content that made Sven both proud and yet at the same time determined that this would only be the beginning of his path.


    ¡ª


    Class Gained!


    Class: [Alchemist]


    Rank: [Novice]


    Stage: [Early]


    -Skill Gained:


    [(Mortal) Alchemical Sense (Early)] - You now possess a greater instinct for the alchemical craft, allowing you to better learn from your mistakes, as well as see potential opportunities.


    ¡ª


    Sven let himself bask somewhat in his pride for a moment as he read over the prompt before the elements reminded him he was still just a mere mortal, a gust of wind making him shiver in place.


    Taking this as a hint from the universe that he should get a move on, he scrambled to gather all of his things, before he hightailed it back to the city in the vain hope the gates would still be open.


    A hope that was crushed the moment the city gates came into view, Sven thus needed to weigh a couple of options, neither being particularly appealing.


    The first was to approach the guards who were on patrol and beg to be let back into the city, but he doubted the guards would bother for just him without some unpleasantness.


    The second was to spend the night out in the open desert in the freezing cold. A bad option for a few obvious reasons, but also by far the easier of the two to pull off.


    Unless that is, he was to be suddenly attacked by a desert crawler. Though, miraculously, he had so far yet to be the target of the infamous roaming spirit beasts¡¯ ire.


    There was no way to guarantee that would continue to be the case, however, so Sven had to make his decision with that possible consideration in mind.


    Which, in retrospect, made it a rather easy choice between some unpleasant conversation and an unreasonable fine of some kind, or the potential to be eaten by a damn massive scorpion beast.


    His decision thus made rather easily, he strode down the dune and up to one of the guards.


    The unfamiliar man gave him a highly sceptical look as one of his hands moved to the pommel of the blade that hung at his side.


    ¡°Hail, stranger!¡± The man then called out, his voice rough, ¡°Identify yourself!¡±


    Sven made sure his frame was lit sufficiently by the torch the man carried in the hand that wasn¡¯t currently clutching at a weapon, before he replied, ¡°I am Sven. I currently reside at the Serpent Tail Inn in the Solomon district in the northeast part of the city.¡±


    The guard seemed to consider his words before he scanned Sven up and down with his eyes, and then he asked, ¡°What are you doing out past closing time anyway?¡±


    Sven could sense in the man¡¯s voice that if he failed to give a good explanation, he likely wouldn¡¯t just not be spending his night in his bed, but possibly barred from re-entering the city entirely.


    Hence he decided to be truthful, ¡°I was working on my very first potion and didn¡¯t want to cause a mess inside the city.¡±


    The guard man¡¯s eyes went wide as he stuttered out, ¡°Y-you¡¯re an alchemist?! A magician?!¡±


    Sven nodded, but before he was able to explain anything further, or even provide proof, the man in front of him bowed in his direction, ¡°This one apologizes for his suspicion, sir alchemist!¡±


    Somewhat taken aback by the man¡¯s sudden shift in attitude, Sven was hardly able to even get out a response before the man shot leftward and shouted at another man, ¡°Open the gate! Now!¡±


    Sven was then awkwardly shepherded over to the rapidly opening gates where he received a big bow and apology from yet another guard who then implored him to enjoy the rest of his night.


    The sudden shift in attitude left him bewildered, even after he had long since cleared the gate.


    Eventually, though, he just shook off the odd encounter and his mind quickly got to thinking of all the things he now needed to do if he wanted to build off of tonight¡¯s success.


    The most important thing to do was join the Alchemist¡¯s Guild/Association.


    A goal that while it had initially seemed very intimidating to Sven, he now suspected would be far simpler than even some of his more obscure and unimportant goals.


    For, while the guild was rich and ostentatious, due to the relative lack of available resources in the desert that could be used in alchemy, the city suffered from an extreme alchemist shortfall.


    Yet, simultaneously, the city¡¯s huge population, and more specifically the city¡¯s decently large rich population, had an only growing demand for alchemical products.


    So much so that Sven had even heard that the guild was desperately trying to recruit people from other regions and other oasis cities to come to Narses to help them handle the backlog.


    Or else, the guild risked losing customers to the city¡¯s famous cultivation sects. While they were known to charge exorbitant prices for their services, they at least didn¡¯t seem to suffer from a lack of resources, or skilled alchemists.


    Hence, Sven believed, the Alchemist¡¯s Guild would jump at the chance to enlist him as a member if it meant they¡¯d be able to hopefully pawn off all of their lower-level jobs onto him.


    An arrangement that Sven was perfectly fine with as he¡¯d spent not an inconsiderable number of his early adult life working in a company that operated on a similar premise.


    Plus, the jobs, even if he had no doubt they¡¯d be tedious, would replace his currently meagre and not very impressive salary and then some, while also giving him more alchemical experience.


    Which, at a later date, he hoped would translate into independent success. But, as with nearly all things in life, Sven guessed only time would tell whether all of his efforts would prove worthwhile.

 Chapter 6: Guild

    The sound of Sven¡¯s heartbeat battled for dominance in his head with the ringing in his ear as four straight days of work quite literally blew up in his face.


    Blindly scrambling with his hand to reach for his trusty cloth, Sven let out a yelp as he accidentally touched hit hot cauldron and burned the side of his hand.


    ¡°Darn pot!¡± He exclaimed as he finally found the rag and used it to wipe his face clean. Then, once he felt as though his face was no longer covered in alchemical goo, he let his eyes squint open.


    And, just as they had been the last three times he¡¯d tried his hand at tier 2 alchemy, his eyes were met with the sight of an empty cauldron sat amidst a chaotic workspace covered in viscous fluid.


    Sven let out a disappointed sigh as he walked over to the other side of the workshop he was in to cross out a few things from his list of things that could possibly be wrong with how he did things.


    He had acquired the right ingredients, mastered the correct timing, and even made sure he kept his cauldron perfectly clean so that no other magical remnants messed with his concoction.


    So, what in the hell was wrong with his alchemy?


    It was a question that had been haunting him ever since he joined the alchemist¡¯s guild and began to be given more and more jobs that he needed to complete.


    In the beginning, Sven had thought himself some kind of alchemical prodigy, as every time that he made a potion, he found it easier and easier to make it of a higher quality.


    For example, after making his 12th batch of Hunger Reduction potions, he¡¯d gotten them up to an incredible [B]-rank quality, which the senior alchemists said was practically unheard of.


    The only issue was then that while they were a first step for alchemists, there wasn¡¯t exactly a high demand for [Copper] rank/tier 1 potions as they usually did pretty generic things.


    Like, why would anyone, even the richest cultivator out there, buy a hunger reduction potion when he could just get a chef to make him some food which would taste a hundred times nicer?


    The only reason Sven had even gotten to make 12 batches was that there had been a backlog and the people requesting them were people who planned on entering closed-door cultivation.


    He had thus been forced by this lack of buyers to diversify his potion-making abilities and learn to make other tier 1 potions, such as the pain reduction potion, and the dubious ¡°love¡± potion.


    The last was not a potion that made a person fall in love with you, but aided with¡­ lovemaking.


    Sven had had no problem making these potions, but the instant that he tried to aim to make any sort of tier 2 potion, he had encountered an impenetrable wall of difficulty.


    It wasn¡¯t just that there often, though not always, more ingredients involved, nor just the fact that a lot of the ingredients were of a higher quality, it was also that the process itself was different.


    Whereas in the tier 1 potion-making process, one needed only to say the sacred word, ¡®Concoct¡¯, if you wanted to succeed, tier 2 potions were much different.


    One needed to use a string of three different sacred words throughout the process, and while that may not sound that much harder, Sven had learned firsthand hand it made things way harder.


    It wasn¡¯t enough to just say them at the right time, they had to ¡°resonate¡± with each other, as a book he¡¯d read described it. Which meant that timing and one¡¯s tone became very important.


    Moreover, the difficulty of tier 2 not only came from sacred words but also from understanding how all of the alchemical process worked, not just merely knowing that certain things did work.


    No, you had to try and understand why adding certain ingredients together into a pot was conducive to making whatever type of potion you desired.


    The senior alchemists he¡¯d spoken to said that the world didn¡¯t expect you to have a perfect understanding, as no one had that, but you had to at least be on the right track.


    It was for this reason, as well as the added complexity of additional sacred words, that made tier 2 be considered by the Alchemists guild as the stage of true alchemists.


    Any old magician could easily become tier 1 alchemy, they said, but only a person truly dedicated to the path could ever create a true tier 2 potion.


    This was why they had also advised him to take things more slowly, as he had only been a truly dedicated student of alchemy for about a month and a half when he¡¯d made his first tier 2 try.


    But, unlike the few young disciples that said senior alchemists had taken under their wing, he felt a  tremendous affinity for alchemy that made him believe he was close to achieving his goal.


    Though, maybe, that was just his newly upgraded skill talking.<b>


    </b>


    <b>¡ª


    </b>


    <b>[(Mortal) Alchemical Sense (Late)] - You possess a greater instinct for the alchemical craft, allowing you to better learn from your mistakes, as well as see potential opportunities.


    </b>


    <b>¡ª</b>


    Re-looking at the prompt he¡¯d received days ago, he felt much more aware of what everything all meant than he did when he¡¯d first gotten the skill.


    As, for the most part, he had kind of ignored researching the system and its ranks when he¡¯d done his research in the library as it was hardly that interesting in comparison to magic in general.


    But, ever since he¡¯d got access to the first floor of the Alchemist¡¯s guild¡¯s private library, he¡¯d read up on the system and now felt he understood things much better.


    For example, so far as the books were concerned, there were 4 ranks of skills and artefacts: Mortal, Profound, Earth, and, lastly, Heaven. Within these ranks, there were 4 stages: Early, Mid, Late, and Peak.


    The two big artefacts that he¡¯d received were both profound rank artefacts, and, from what he¡¯d so far been able to tell, they were middle-stage profound rank artefacts.


    It had taken Sven a while to get why some items, like the pills and cauldron he¡¯d received weren¡¯t ranked like this, but he knew now that this was because pills and cauldrons are items, not artefacts.


    The exact definitional divide between the two was still murky in mind, however, as often felt a little arbitrary from where he was standing. But, then again, what did he know?


    Regardless, items were ranked based on an entirely different scale which had nine ranks instead of four, which were: Copper, Iron, Steel, Bronze, Silver, Gold, Platinum, Mithril, Jade, and Diamond.


    Professions like alchemists ordered themselves per these 9 ranks, so Sven was as of now a [Copper] rank alchemist, but upon making a tier 2 item, he¡¯d be made a [Iron] rank.


    Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.


    The system judged one¡¯s proficiency in any given class much differently, but, honestly, recalling all of the stuff he¡¯d read was tiring him out so he just let out a sigh and let his mind relax.


    Then, after he¡¯d recovered sufficiently, he brainstormed ideas as to how to finally succeed in his task of making a tier 2 potion.


    He managed to come up with a long list of ideas, and he¡¯d been about to go back to clean up his workstation before trying his hand at alchemy again when he heard a loud knock on the door.


    Forgetting he was covered in alchemical goo from the neck down, Sven called out, ¡°I¡¯m not at work, you can come in safely!¡±


    A moment after he¡¯d said this, the door to his assigned workshop swung open and one of the kids that an older alchemist was training peeped his head through and said, ¡°You¡¯ve been summoned.¡±


    Taken aback by the boy¡¯s words, Sven asked, confused, ¡°Whatever for?¡±


    The boy shrugged, but before he left to go and inform the person in the workshop next to Sven¡¯s he said, ¡°Something about the Lord¡¯s son returning, I think.¡±


    As the door to his workshop closed behind the young lad who couldn¡¯t be older than maybe 12 or 13 years old, Sven finally noticed the state his attire was in and quickly rushed to get out of the rough apron and tunic he wore while practising alchemy, and back into the clothes he¡¯d worn ever since he¡¯d arrived in this world.


    Then, once he was dressed, he scrambled out of his workshop, and up the large staircase to the guild¡¯s ground floor, and when he reached the top he was greeted by a very unusual sight.


    The guild lobby was full of people. Or, fuller than Sven had ever seen before.


    Furthermore, despite all of the people present, the room was practically silent as more people who belonged to the guild filtered into the lobby from every direction.


    Until, at last, a tall man with a rich dark beard emerged onto the lobby¡¯s upper balcony, his aura as intimidating as it was gargantuan as it suppressed everyone else¡¯s in the rooms.


    It didn¡¯t take long for Sven to realize who this man was. The Alchemist Guild¡¯s guild master.


    All eyes fell upon the man as he then began to speak, his voice low and powerful, ¡°Members, I am addressing you all today as I have recently received an important piece of news from the Lord.¡±


    Glances were exchanged between the guild¡¯s members as the man continued, ¡°Narses¡¯ heir, young Godfrey Emilia Narses, shall soon be returning to the city after many years spent in the capital.¡±


    A few of the older alchemists in the room began to smirk at these words, clearly knowing what the next sentence would be as they began playing with the spatial storage rings gracing their fingers.


    ¡°As such,¡± The guildmaster proclaimed, ¡°a great contest of the guilds has been announced! It is, as a result, of the utmost importance that you who are gathered here return to your work. At once! It is not my desire to allow this guild full of venerable men to be outshone in any competition by the debauched artificers, ugly blacksmiths, lecherous enchanters, or, heaven forbid, that petty gang of useless talisman makers! Not now! Not ever! So, with all due respect, be gone with you all! You are hereby dismissed! Go and do your forefather alchemists proud!¡±


    The room was flooded with applause as every other person began to clap and cheer while on the inside Sven was wondering, ¡®He summoned everyone here to tell everyone that?¡¯


    The thought, ¡®He could have just sent an email¡­¡¯, briefly entered his head before it was dismissed, as, no, the man could not have just sent an email. Though, the general thought was fine.


    Why bother gathering everyone if you¡¯re just announcing a contest? Couldn¡¯t the boy from earlier have just told him and everyone else? Was this contest a much bigger deal than he thought?


    Sven had no idea but as he stuck around and chatted with a few people he knew, and the answer very much seemed like a yes. In fact, an emphatic yes.


    The inter-guild contest aspect wasn¡¯t that important, what mattered was that this contest would spark a more vigorous contest within the guild itself to produce the gift/gifts.


    And, it was assumed, that whoever made the largest and best contribution to the guild¡¯s efforts would be given access to the guild¡¯s treasury to pick out a few super rare alchemical ingredients.


    Which was the equivalent of offering an unlimited supply of cat nip to a bunch of felines. Everyone had immediately begun to make plans about what kind of potion they were going to submit.


    Sven, however, found that he didn¡¯t care about the contest. Not because he wouldn¡¯t want a chance to peruse the guild¡¯s treasury, but because he knew he just couldn¡¯t compete.


    The Narsian Alchemists Guild had almost half a dozen [Steel] rank alchemists, all of whom were in the room, and all of whom had access to far more money and resources than did Sven.


    So, even if Sven were to somehow achieve a magical breakthrough and become a tier 2 alchemist in the next 30 seconds, he¡¯d have to achieve yet another breakthrough before he could compete.


    Hence, after he finished catching up with a fellow old codger named Jackson, Sven returned to his workshop and got straight to work cleaning up his workspace for his next attempt at tier 2.


    And, hopefully, this time it¡¯d be a success.


    <hr>


    The sound of water giants groaning had been ubiquitous and ever-present ever since Godfrey and his squad had set out from the capital toward his ailing father¡¯s domain.


    For the last few months, he had been desperately trying not to think about everything. To focus all of his attention on concluding his training as a royal knight squire, and serving the Empire¡¯s needs.


    Yet, no matter how much time he spent in the training fields, or trapped in a testing dungeon, the spectre of the life that fate had lined up for him haunted his every waking moment.


    If not for the specially purchased sleep potion he used every few weeks when he wanted a nap, he did not doubt that his dying father would loom large in his dreams as well.


    For months, he had had no idea what to do about this problem, as even if he hadn¡¯t seen his mom and dad in almost 2 decades, the letters they had exchanged had kept their bond strong.


    He knew the love that they had for him. He knew the pain they had gone through when Henry did not make it home that fateful day. But, most of all, he knew how proud they were of who he was.


    Letting them down was thus not an option. But, becoming the heir that they wanted wouldn¡¯t be easy for him. That was for sure.


    Which was why his Captain had all but ordered him to go home and speak with his father.


    At first, Godfrey had tried resisting the order, not wanting to receive special treatment, but after a worthy pretence had been found for him to return, he had been unable to refuse.


    Even if, both he and the Prince knew, the main reason behind his return wasn¡¯t truly to deal with a rag-tag organization of desert bandits and slave traders calling themselves the Sand Maw Gang.


    This isn¡¯t to say he wouldn¡¯t deal with the brutish criminals, only that they likely wouldn¡¯t occupy much of his mental space, as from what he¡¯d heard they were a group populated only by mortals.


    Meaning, that a team of peak [Apprentice] realm cultivators like himself and his squad could defeat the barbarians without putting in that much effort.


    The sound of his horse-sized water giant groaning beneath his legs dragged Godfrey from his idle thoughts as, unlike its kin, his water giant had always been a rather quiet soul.


    ¡°What is it, friend?¡± He asked as he scratched at the bottom of the large grey quadruped¡¯s chin.


    The animal let out another groan, this one sounding more like a yawn, and Godfrey sighed as his spirit beast companion¡¯s message was clear enough.


    ¡°Alright, everyone!¡± He called out, projecting his voice to be heard over the shifting sands, ¡°It is time to set up camp for tonight. I think our mounts need a rest.¡±


    His team of about 6 or 7 squad members nodded their heads in understanding before they got to dismounting their giants and pulling out their camping equipment from their storage rings.


    Godfrey soon did the same. Though, his gear was less ostentatious and ornate than his allies'', who all possessed unique luxury tents which were hand-crafted by professional artificers.


    They were, after all, just like him, nobles. Yet, regardless of their tents being flashy, Godfrey had an unshakable confidence in them, and in their strength.


    Thanks to the fact that their camping equipment was almost all special artefacts, it didn¡¯t take too long before everyone had set up everything they¡¯d need for the night.


    For while they may not need sleep, their mounts certainly did. And, honestly, Godfrey couldn¡¯t say he was in a rush to return home in any respect.


    Not only because he¡¯d have to face all of the responsibilities as heir, but also because he knew the way that people like his father¡¯s advisers and ministers thought.


    They¡¯d try vociferously to get him to take on the mantle of lord immediately upon his return. What did it matter that his father was still alive when he wasn¡¯t able to make most of the decisions?


    For that reason and many other, less noble, ones, they¡¯d force him to handle all of the messes that had arisen in the years since his father had started to experience physical and mental decline.


    But, more than just exclusively lordly matters, Godfrey would be required to make a few decisions as the presumptive new head of the Narses house.


    For instance, his two younger sisters were approaching the marriageable age of 16, which meant a litany of engagement proposals had likely already piled up on his father¡¯s former desk.


    Naturally, Godfrey felt slightly uncomfortable with marrying off his little sisters. Namely because as of that moment, he hadn¡¯t met them, and knew nothing of their personalities or interests, etc.


    How could he possibly find them a good husband right away when he was so ignorant?


    All of which is to say, it had long since dawned on Godfrey just how much work he¡¯d have to do as soon as he got back to Narses, and so delaying his arrival a bit, while selfish, was alright with him.


    Even Gaia herself allowed there to be calm before the storm.

 Chapter 7: Breaks

    The smell of cooking meat, cheap perfume, and body odour, dominated Sven¡¯s senses as he waded through the bustling city market on the prowl for a very¡­ unique ingredient.


    There had been no shortage of guild jobs of late as almost all of the other guild members diverted their focus onto creating potions for only a single customer, i.e., the guild itself.


    Sven remained skeptical that there was any benefit in them doing so, but he was more than happy to cover for their absence as it had meant a lot more pay for him due to the increased work.


    So much more pay that Sven was finally close to being able to buy himself full citizenship.


    Sven found the idea of being able to purchase citizenship, for a city no less, rather odd, but he was not going to complain too much as the other way to gain city citizenship was far more intense.


    Which is to say, you had to marry a person who was already a city citizen.


    Other than that, and simply purchasing it outright, city citizenship was inherited for the most part, as had also been the case for most countries¡¯ citizens back on Earth.


    Lost in his thoughts about the fact that he¡¯d soon be legally able to own land in the city, he almost missed the very thing he¡¯d been looking for displayed on a rotten looking wooden board.


    After he noticed it, all other thoughts disappeared as he turned his head and looked downward as the vendor who was selling the item he needed seemed to lack a big stall of her own.


    Not being one to judge though, Sven spoke over the loud ambient noise of people all around him, ¡°Hail, vendor, I am interested in purchasing that desert root vein. How much do you want for it?¡±


    The veiled woman, whose ragged clothes spoke volumes about her current situation, looked up at him and shrugged, before replying, ¡°It has a number of uses. How much are you willing to pay for it?¡±


    Sven gave the proposition some thought before he replied, ¡°I¡¯ll take it for about 20 bronze coins.¡±


    Even though her facial features were somewhat obscured by the veil she wore, Sven could tell he¡¯d surprised the young woman with his offer.


    Which, in turn, surprised him. As, while it wasn¡¯t the lowest price he could¡¯ve reasonably given her, the root¡¯s true value, at least according to the guild, was nearer to 30-40 bronze coins today.


    Hence why he had come to the market for ingredients in the first place as he thought it was insane to pay that much money for a very simple ingredient.


    ¡°S-sold!¡± The woman then hurriedly said as she frantically scrambled up onto her knees to receive her payment into her blister-covered hands.


    In that moment Sven felt some amount of guilt for ripping the struggling woman off so he handed her 25 bronze coins instead, hastily picked up the root, and walked away.


    The woman didn¡¯t call after him or anything which allowed him Sven to smile as he took a turn to the left and exited the busy market square and walked back onto one of the main city streets.


    For thanks to his decision to try and source his ingredients elsewhere, he now had everything that he needed to finally, after months and months of failure, for sure become a tier 2 alchemist.


    <hr>


    Winona¡¯s heart thundered in her chest as she squirreled the small fortune away into her very own rag sack, picked up her old reliable wooden plank, and legged it out of the market district.


    For it would be fair to say that the heavens had not been kind to her ever since she¡¯d been kicked out of her sect those many months ago.


    Partly it was her own fault as she had spent all of the time she could¡¯ve used productively sulking in an abandoned adobe hut that she¡¯d squatted in for the first few weeks.


    Thus, by the time she gotten herself together somewhat, the word had already been spread by her former sect of who and what she was and what kind of treatment she deserved.


    As a result, no guild, who were never particularly disposed to women in their ranks anyway, had an iron-clad reason to turn her away.


    She had already had her talents tested and had been deemed a failure, and the guilds would not tolerate failures among their highly esteemed membership.


    Therefore, without any guild that would accept her, not even the mortal guilds, Winona had nearly starved to death in the first two months of her exile.


    While others in her situation may have turned to crime, she knew that would be a horrible mistake on her part.


    While the city guards were predominantly mortals, in the case where they suspected a cultivator was involved, they could call upon the sects to investigate for them.


    And, if her involvement in any crime was discovered, Winona had no doubts in her mind that her former Sect Master would hunt her down and eliminate her himself.


    For no sect would endure their good name being tainted. Even if only by association with a former disciple, as that was just how sect people thought.


    Due to this, Winona had felt helpless and trapped. Unable to do anything but die the sort of slow, agonizing deaths that would compel others to throw themselves into the jaws of a spirit beast.


    But, she had survived. By doing something she knew to be totally foolish.


    Her mind ravaged by hunger, and her body ravaged by pain, Winona had walked out of the city¡¯s limits, and instead of throwing herself into a beast¡¯s jaw, she threw a punch into one¡¯s face.


    Luckily said beast had only been a tier 1 spirit beast, so she could take it, but that hardly meant it was easy as even if technically the same, the realms of spirit beasts worked way differently.


    A protracted battle of fist and claw, skill and instinct, human and beast followed. Until, bloodied in the extreme, her lower body raked with gashes, Winona had emerged victorious.


    And, as a result, the Heavens had granted her loot in the form of various spirit herbs.


    Were she any other seller, Winona would¡¯ve gotten more than enough bronze to last her months from those spiritual hers. But, of course, things could never be that easy for her.


    The Alchemists Guild, knowing full well the weakness of her position, tried to effectively rob her by offering absurdly low prices for spiritual herbs that they knew full well were worth way more.


    Not standing for this, she had initially stormed out of the guild building and tried to sell to each of the guild¡¯s members individually but they had soon caught on to her and issued a memorandum.


    With no other buyer interested in what she had to offer, Winona had been cowed into going back to the guild, desperate, and was forced to sell for even more insanely low prices.


    And that is how she had just barely kept herself alive for months. Then, the guild had tried to push her too far.


    A single copper coin.


    That is all they offered her when she presented them with an [Iron] rank root that she knew from her time in the sect was a necessary ingredient in the creation of a basic health potion. One of the guild¡¯s most in demand products.


    It had been an outrageous offer, meant as one last humiliation of her before they refused business with her entirely - probably due to sect pressure.


    However, though her pride had been beaten low, and her desperation was great, she had stormed out of that disgusting house of scumbags and told em what part of damnation they could go to.


    Yet, still, what had been true the last time she¡¯d done so remained true.


    Or, at least, she¡¯d thought so for the last two weeks. Until, that foreign looking old man had come walking by her one board shop.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Usually she hated the looks of pity that strangers gave her, but the look in his eyes wasn¡¯t the kind of pity whereby the person looked down upon another.


    It was a much rarer kind of pity, a kind she¡¯d never quite experienced, empathy.


    And, if that wasn¡¯t weird enough, the man had proffered an astonishingly reasonable price before then actually paying it. Something that couldn¡¯t be said about all of her former customers.


    Winona¡¯s mind had thus become a bit of jumbled mess as the man had then just walked away.


    Had she been the Winona of the past, she¡¯d have probably sat there all confused at the stranger¡¯s kindness for many minutes.


    But she¡¯d learned the hard way that people like her were the favorite targets of capricious guards, as due to her situation, she couldn¡¯t come under any suspicion of committing a crime.


    Or else, her life would become forfeit.


    A brutal fact that the more sadistic and manipulative guards liked to dangle over her head so as to extort her out of any money that they had seen her make.


    To always be on the move whenever possible had thus become a motto she lived by and so once her goods were all gone, she had high tailed it out of the market back to her squatting place.


    The place where tonight, for the first time in a very long time, she¡¯d treat herself to a meal worthy of a person rather than a beast.


    With his cauldron placed firmly on a new stone pedestal that Sven had used earth magic to erect in his workshop, Sven was finally ready to begin the process of making his first tier 2 potion.


    It seemed the system was also confident in his success as it gave him a new system prompt.


    ¡ª


    Quest Gained!


    Quest Name: Tough as Iron!


    Rank: [Mortal]


    Objectives: [Create a single Iron rank potion (0/1)


    Reward: ???


    ¡ª


    It had been quite a few months since he¡¯d last received a new system prompt, so suddenly getting one made him remember that he hadn¡¯t checked in on his progress for a while.


    So, delaying his potion making by a few good seconds, he muttered, ¡°Status.¡±, and a blue panel visualized in front of him that summarized all of his progress over the last few months.


    Which, just looking at it didn¡¯t seem like a lot, even though it was.


    ¡ª


    STATUS:


    Name: Sven Mikhailov


    Titles: N/A


    Realm: [10th Layer of the Apprentice]


    Classes:


    [(Novice) Alchemist (Early)]


    Traits:


    [(???) Fruit of the Soil], [(Mortal) Mark of Gaia]


    Skills:


    [(Mortal) Analysis (Mid)], [(Mortal) Alchemical Instincts (Mid)


    Boons:


    [Golden Elder]


    ¡ª


    Once Sven had taken an appropriate few seconds to appreciate how far he had come, he let out a sigh and then dismissed all of the prompts.


    ¡®There is no use in delaying it any longer.¡¯ Sven resolved internally as he began pouring the water into the cauldron to serve as the liquid base of his potion.


    With the easiest step done, Sven performed a small stretch, then dropped the root he¡¯d bought in the market earlier today into the already bubbling liquid.


    Golden light illuminated the entirety of his workshop as Sven worked his magic into everything all around him before he then mustered his willpower and muttered, ¡°Merge.¡±


    The stuff inside the cauldron in front of him began to sizzle then pop as he imposed his will via his use of sacred words onto the root¡¯s very essence.


    It was at this point that an ill-prepared alchemist would find their cauldron exploding. For merge¡¯s reputation as the most volatile of the early sacred words was not for nothing.


    For compared to the other two, concoct and settle, merge was insanely difficult to control. As two things didn¡¯t easily become one thing, no matter how powerful you were.


    But, this was not Sven¡¯s first rodeo, and he knew full well what he needed to do.


    Unleashing most of his controls on his mana flow, Sven began to feel a little bit dizzy as half of his total mana pool surged into his cauldron, the sheer weight and pressure of it causing the merger.


    A feat that was only possible due to his realm as well as the relatively low quality of his ingredients meaning that he could easily overpower the inherent restrictions each material had.


    The water in his cauldron had thus taken on a much more earthen tone by the time the cracking in the pot died down as the merger finalized.


    Happy he had now completed the hardest part of the whole affair, Sven moved onto what he was hoping would be the only moderately difficult part.


    Using a pair of wonky tongs, Sven lifted up a blazing hot crucible full of molten iron and poured it into the cauldron to a very strange optical result.


    Instead of acting like one from Earth would expect, the hot fluid metal began to swirl around in a vortex within the cauldron, emitting a low hum.


    Knowing what he had to do, Sven began to stir counter to the vortex¡¯s swirl, which turned the hum into a hissing sound as the metal tried to fight back.


    Sven wouldn¡¯t allow it, however. But it took a long 10 minutes of constant unrelenting mental and magical warfare with the damn inanimate fluid to get it to surrender.


    And then, once it had, he had to suppress it more thoroughly as he muttered, ¡°Settle.¡±


    Like a bird of prey diving and catching its prey in its claws, he thereby seized full control over all of his graying mixture before pushing more of his mana into making the liquid as hot as can be.


    Just as he had when making his first potion, he had to keep the mixture from evaporating. Even as every atom within the material desperately wanted to scatter to the winds.


    Sven, however, drawing upon another chunk of his mana reserve and mental strength, forced the liquid to stay as such as he then added his final 3 ingredients.


    A strange blue plum looking fruit/vegetable that was called an ¡°oasis surprise¡± which would add to the mixture a lot of positive water energy as it apparently was harvested from the oasis¡¯ depths.


    Then there was the oddly discolored black and purple egg-plant looking monstrosity that lay flat across almost the entire width of his workstation, known colloquially as a sand snake apple.


    Sven had no idea why the locals called it that, but it was far better than it¡¯s system-assigned name which Sven wasn¡¯t even going to try and pronounce.


    Due to the vegetable/fruit¡¯s incredible size, however, the process of adding it to the mixture took a lot longer than any of the other steps as the mixture could also absorb so much at one time.


    Try to push it to absorb too much all at once and well, your concoction would explode. Which was never a good time.


    So, Sven showed the quality he had been most well known for back on Earth besides dedication, a heck of a lot of patience.


    Until, eventually, he was able to add in the final ingredient. A jug full of mead.


    This time, the process of absorption was over very quickly and so Sven was thus rapidly thrust into the final stage of the potion making process.


    With all his will and remaining mana, he gathered the mixture into one great big ball, and then, in a voice that echoed throughout his workshop, he ordered his potion to, ¡°CONCOCT!¡±


    The room suddenly flashed with golden light before everything went dark for just a brief moment, before the workshop¡¯s magical lighting flickered back on.


    His face still dry and clean of any alchemical goop, Sven couldn¡¯t help but smile as he gazed down at his completed mixture before he hastily moved to bottle it all.


    Once he had, he figured out he had made enough for three separate potions. When he had them all corked, only then did Sven allow himself to analyze his greatest achievement yet.


    His very first tier 2 potion.


    ¡ª


    [Basic Potion of Health] - Rank: [Iron] - Quality: [E] - Drink to restore some of your vitality. Upon consumption will heal some cuts and bruises, but due to this potion¡¯s low quality may leave scars behind.


    ¡ª


    Once again, Sven cared little for the negative feedback as he once more stood baffled by his very unusual ability to instantly make [E] grade potions on his first attempt.


    Moreover, who cared if his magic healing potion left behind scars, it was a damn tier 2 potion! As such, he soon received another system prompt to further lighten his mood.


    ¡ª


    Quest Completed!


    Quest Name: Tough as Iron!


    Rank: [Mortal]


    Objectives:


    [Create a single Iron rank potion (1/1)


    Reward:


    Class Advancement: [(Novice) Alchemist (Early-> Mid)]


    [(Iron) Compendium of Alchemical Recipes] - A book chock full of potion recipes for an alchemist who has taken his or her first step into the realm of real alchemy.


    [(Mortal) Inspector¡¯s Monocle] - Through this looking glass, you can glimpse a few of the imperfections within any low tier creation, including your own.


    Claim items?


    YES / NO


    ¡ª


    Sven¡¯s smile grew as he finished reading over the prompt. He had almost instinctively selected yes to claiming his items right away, but he decided to wait until he got back home before he did so.


    That way, he wouldn¡¯t even have to carry them back home with him.


    A benefit that was especially pronounced as he vaguely remembered promising Jackson that on a big occasion like this, he¡¯d finally agree to go out drinking with him.


    Just the thought of drinking alcohol, however, made Sven sigh as he recalled his not so productive youth of partying until stupid o¡¯clock at night, only to spend the next morning throwing up.


    Regardless of his less than ideal memories of his past, though, a promise was a promise. And Sven had never been one to go back on his word.


    Thus, after cleaning up his workshop and informing the guild receptionist that he had managed to create his first tier two potion, he walked back down to his fellow elder¡¯s workshop and told him.


    The man had been truly ecstatic for him and, recalling Sven¡¯s earlier promise exactly, he then took Sven to a very ornate looking establishment that couldn¡¯t possibly be a-


    It was at that moment that a truly divine scent registered in Sven¡¯s mind and his earlier sigh had its warrant fully retracted as a single desire consumed him.


    The desire to drink all of the tea that this place had to offer.

 Chapter 8: Citizenship

    ¡°Mr Meekhailoff, it is my distinct honour as city administrator to confer upon you today the full and potent rights of a citizen of this here great city of Narses.¡± A rather rotund man proclaimed with a bit too much gusto considering his horrible butchering of Sven¡¯s last name as he handed over a bronze medallion and a rolled-up scrap of paper.


    Sven didn¡¯t complain or criticize the man, however, simply accepting the marks of citizenship with a sense of relief and satisfaction before he was then guided out of the man¡¯s large central office to the ground floor of the city¡¯s official administration building.


    Sven didn¡¯t bother wasting any more time wandering around the large stone structure, as the truth was he was a little bit embarrassed with himself that he hadn¡¯t gotten his citizenship sooner.


    But a certain tea house had practically drained him dry of his savings with but a single cup of tea.


    Lucky for the tea house, however, that had been one damn good cup of tea, and so he guessed he couldn¡¯t be too mad at them for charging a fair price for their product.


    Plus, on the bright side of things, his sudden poverty after his night of ¡°drinking¡± with Jackson had all but forced him to consolidate his new capacity to create tier 2 potions to rebuild his finances.


    It was thanks to that extra forced work that he¡¯d now reached the point where he could create an [E]-grade tier 2 potion 90~ per cent of the time he tried, and a [D]-grade potion 20% of the time.


    For only two weeks of practice, that was some incredible progress, and thus even if there was a lot of lingering embarrassment within him, he was still happy overall with how everything had gone.


    And now that he had citizenship, he could finally be considered eligible to purchase land.


    However, his doing that would have to wait some time, as once more his supply of money had become very limited as buying citizenship was certainly not cheap.


    Sven was dragged out of his thoughts about his money problems by his stomach growling at him to satiate it after he had failed to do so overnight as he¡¯d been busy concocting potions.


    He waited until he was back in his workshop before he pulled out the cornucopia and let all of the heavenly liquid flood down his throat as he let out a long sigh of happiness.


    Followed quickly by his eyebrows raising as a system prompt appeared in front of him.


    <b>¡ª


    </b>


    <b>Level Up!


    </b>


    <b>Your Realm has increased to the [11th Layer of the Apprentice]!


    </b>


    <b>¡ª</b>


    After nodding at the exciting prompt, Sven dismissed it with a happy thought, before he shivered as a rather painful memory resurfaced in his mind.


    He had been at the 12th layer of the Novice realm when he¡¯d taken that final leap of faith, and he distinctly remembered that he¡¯d been rewarded with a traumatizing breakthrough.


    So, Sven could only wonder, if the breakthrough to only the second realm of cultivation was bad, how much worse could the breakthrough to the next realm, [Low Core], be.


    The mere thought had him second-guessing every decision he¡¯d made in this new world. Before a second memory hit him and he almost hit himself for forgetting about something so important.


    As a sort of knee-jerk reaction to this memory, he flipped over his right hand and, sure enough, an odd green symbol he distinctly recalled being etched into his flesh was there.


    The Mark of Gaia he remembered the system called it.


    Yet, so far as he was aware, he was the only person who could see the mark. No one in Narses had yet mentioned spotting the strange tattoo-esque marking on his palm.


    This revelation mystified Sven as it reminded him that for all that he had learned since he first arrived in this world, there was still so much that he just didn¡¯t know.


    But, instead of feeling intimidated by his ignorance, Sven felt somewhat excited about it.


    Back on Earth, he had done everything that one could do¡ªlearned all the life lessons you needed to know. And, while he had been no super genius polymath, he had been somewhat wise.


    Yet, in this new world, there was so much he didn¡¯t know, and he felt as though it was much more able to squeeze some last-minute life lessons into him than Earth.


    Hence, the future that now lay before him felt much more exciting than he had ever imagined his retirement back on Earth could have been. Even in the best-case scenario.


    A big goofy smile thus broke out on his face as Sven began daydreaming about what he should do in the future.


    Unfortunately, however, his fantasizing was cut short by a knock at his door.


    A familiar young lad, who he had since learned was named Tobias, then peeked his head in before saying, ¡°Sir Alchemist, a job has come in that the guild master wants you to handle personally.¡±


    Sven blinked twice at the boy before retorting, ¡°The guild master wants me to do what?¡±


    The boy took his words as an invitation to come in as he then followed up with, ¡°The guild master told me to tell you that he recently received a request from an old friend for a [B]-grade potion.¡±


    ¡°Any kind of [B]-grade potion?¡± Sven asked, inquiringly.


    ¡°A [B]-grade health potion to be precise.¡± The boy clarified, making Sven instantly deflate as he¡¯d not been able to create even a half-decent [D]-grade tier 2 potion yet, let alone a [C] or [B] grade.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry but I¡¯m not sure I can help the grandmaster on this one. I¡¯m nowhere near being able to make a [B]-grade health potion.¡± Sven responded honestly to the boy.


    ¡°The guild master knows that already. But, he has been impressed with your rate of progress. He¡¯d thus like to give you this challenge as a way to motivate you to even greater success.¡±


    ¡°You are, after all, apparently one of the guild¡¯s greatest talents in a generation.¡± The boy said, in a voice that half-revealed that the kid found repeating such a degree of praise to be hard work.


    Sven stood baffled by the guild master¡¯s apparent words before he asked, ¡°What¡¯s the reward?¡±


    At this question, the boy shrugged before replying, ¡°I don¡¯t know. I just know a job from the guildmaster himself is one that you¡¯d be crazy to turn down.¡±


    Sven sighed in response, before nodding his head and saying, ¡°Alright. I¡¯ll take the job. But, I don¡¯t know how long it¡¯ll take me to succeed so I can¡¯t say when I¡¯ll have the potion ready.¡±


    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.


    The boy nodded in understanding before he said, ¡°I¡¯ll be sure to inform the guildmaster.¡± Then, he briskly walked over to the door and walked out of Sven¡¯s workshop. Leaving Sven stood alone.


    Once more he sighed as the weight of the task he had just been given dawned on him.


    The only silver lining of getting this job, apart from the potential reward he¡¯d be given, was that he would be given all the resources he needed by the guild so his progression would be cost-free.


    Which was a bonus considering the currently miserable state of his finances.


    With a new job suddenly in his sights, Sven moved over to his small pile of notes that he¡¯d made in the last few weeks and began to try and extrapolate from them how he might make the potion.


    As, while he had been able to achieve it once or twice with tier 1 potions, making a [B] quality item was far from easy and it required well above average ingredients, skill, and luck.


    At least, for a relative newcomer to any tier of potion-making. Alchemists who¡¯d been in a tier for a very long time, like the guild master, could probably pump them out without any need for luck.


    But, as someone who had only become a tier 2 alchemist a few weeks ago, Sven doubted he¡¯d get a tier 2 potion made that was of [C] quality for another few weeks of work, let alone [B] grade.


    So, recognizing this reality, he set himself a reasonable, but still definitely arbitrary, deadline of the beginning of the new year to make himself his very first [B]-grade tier 2 potion.


    And, he decided, if he failed to meet the deadline, he¡¯d just inform the guild master he couldn¡¯t do it as he didn¡¯t want to waste the man¡¯s or the client¡¯s time with lackluster alchemy.


    With all of that decided, and his mind now set on completing this most important of tasks, Sven¡¯s reaction to a new blue system prompt appearing in his vision was to just smile knowingly.


    He had been somewhat expecting it after all.


    <b>¡ª


    </b>


    <b>Quest Gained!


    </b>


    <b>Quest Name: Great Expectations!


    </b>


    <b>Rank: [Profound]


    </b>


    <b>Objectives: [Create a B-grade Basic Health Potion (0/1)


    </b>


    <b>Reward: ???


    </b>


    <b>¡ª</b>


    <hr>


    Winona¡¯s whole body was coated in blood as she stumbled back into the shadowy privacy of what could loosely be called her new home.


    The instant the half-rotten wooden door closed behind her, Winona fell to her knees, then folded over and collapsed, face first, into the pile of dirty rags she called a bed.


    She let out a pained groan as she rolled onto her back and, in between heavy breaths, she read all the system prompts that she¡¯d received after her latest fight.


    The desert root she¡¯d sold a few weeks ago had been the last of her stashed away spirit herbs, and so she had needed to once more brave the desert and fight with a spirit beast to restock.


    Unfortunately, with each spirit beast she defeated, the quantity of loot had been decreasing. Making her life just that little bit more difficult than before.


    The drop-off had been so large at first that she had feared she wouldn¡¯t even get any loot today, a result that had it happened would¡¯ve at last broken her spirit to succeed.


    For no one could truly be that unlucky? Could they? She didn¡¯t let her mind linger on that thought for long, not wanting to tempt the Heavens too much.


    After she¡¯d read over all of the prompts, she selected yes to claim her loot and once more she had a large desert root shoot in her possession. This one being even higher quality than the last.


    If she were to guess, the guild would probably buy it for 50 bronzes, or around 500 coppers, if the seller were anyone else, but, of course, she was Winona Argyle, disgraced former disciple.


    Hence, unless she just happened to run into that old man again, she¡¯d probably get a pittance. If a single coin at all.


    For there was every chance that a senior alchemist might just ¡°confiscate¡± her root if they so fit as there was very little that she could do to stop them.


    As, while alchemy and physical prowess didn¡¯t always go hand in hand, it was common knowledge that the tiers of alchemy generally tracked the realms of cultivation.


    So, a tier 1 alchemist was likely in the [Novice] realm, a tier 2 alchemist in the [Apprentice] realm, a tier 3 in the [Low Core] realm, and so on. This wasn¡¯t always the case, but it was standard.


    And, while some mythical geniuses could bridge the divide between realms and in some cases emerge victorious, if the last 5 years taught Winona anything, she was far from being good at cultivation - let alone being a genius.


    Her grip tightened around the coarse root at that thought.


    Who cared if she didn¡¯t have the talent of some legendary figures, she refused to accept that this scavenger¡¯s life would be hers for the rest of her time in Empyria.


    She wouldn¡¯t and couldn¡¯t allow that to be the case.


    A blazing inferno of determination instantly roaring to life within her chest, Winona pushed herself back up and into a cross-legged position.


    And, for the first time in months, she zoned out the pain and started to cultivate. Hoping that she had finally met whatever arbitrary threshold the heavens had set for her advancement.


    <hr>


    The grin on Sven¡¯s face couldn¡¯t have been any warmer as he casually chatted with his old boss in front of the ideally situated, decently sized, plot of land that he¡¯d bought.


    ¡°So, you became a big shot alchemist, eh?¡± The tall muscle-bound man said, impressed, with a great big smirk.


    ¡°You could say that,¡± Sven replied casually as a building crew that he wasn¡¯t quite familiar with did their best to filter past him and the hunk of a man beside him to get onto the plot of land.


    ¡°You know, if you¡¯d told me you were a magician the first time we met, you could¡¯ve saved me lots of hours of self-reflection, old man.¡± The man followed up with a small chuckle.


    Sven smiled knowingly in response as while the man may have had a point, the truth was that he¡¯d not known what he was back then. Let alone that being a magician might give him benefits.


    He wouldn¡¯t say that aloud though as he didn¡¯t want his true origin to come under any scrutiny as he didn¡¯t have any explanation for where he came from that would satisfy a rational person.


    Hence, when he did respond, he did so with a deflection, ¡°I don¡¯t know. I think you were in need of some self-reflection. If anything, you should be thanking me for my half-deception.¡±


    The other man scoffed at his words before nodding.


    A brief silence formed between them until the burly foreman asked, ¡°You know, construction is an extremely risky industry, do you think we could come to a health potion securing deal?¡±


    Sven¡¯s left eyebrow raised as he thought over the proposition before replying, ¡°I don¡¯t know. What kind of deal are you thinking?¡±


    The other man grinned as he answered, ¡°A mutually beneficial arrangement. In return for giving us a few discounted health potions now and again, I give you a discount on the building cost?¡±


    Sven thought over the man¡¯s words, and the more he did so the more he found the deal one that he could very much take advantage of.


    As, currently, he wasn¡¯t the one paying for any of the ingredients for his health potions as he was technically working toward the job the guild master had given him.


    And, while there was always a demand for health potions, in his quest to make a [B]-grade potion, Sven had well and truly begun pumping them out at an absurd rate.


    He now no longer even semi-regularly failed to make [E]-grade Basic Health Potions, and he had  doubled his rate of success in making [D]-grade potions.


    As a result, he had quite a large stockpile of health potions built up. So if he could unload them by giving them to the builders guild for a very generous discount on his new house¡­


    ¡°That sounds acceptable. Though, it better be a pretty big discount. My potions typically sell for at least a couple silver, especially the [D]-grade ones.¡± Sven thus replied.


    ¡°Oh that it will be!¡± The builders'' guild master bellowed with a hearty chuckle, ¡°I¡¯ll even throw in a free basement for your very own private lab on top of a 50% discount, how does that sound?¡±


    ¡°It sounds like you¡¯ve got yourself a deal,¡± Sven replied with a satisfied smile.


    They then shook hands on the deal and the rest of their conversation came to an abrupt end as he needed to get back to the Alchemist guild to continue working on his health potions.


    Plus, the construction of his house had only just begun today, so it would take a few weeks at the very minimum for his home to be built. Especially if now he was also getting a private lab built.


    Thus, other than continuing to reminisce as he had done for the last few hours, Sven had no real reason to stick around his plot of land as there wasn¡¯t exactly much to see just yet.


    He did, however, make sure to look at his neighbours¡¯ homes as he had bought land in one of the city¡¯s more middle-class districts so there were some very nice-ish-looking buildings to see.


    From the looks of the people that he saw, most of the people who lived in this area were a part of the educated class of workers within the city, meaning they often worked as scribes and the like.


    Such jobs paid rather well as Sven had come to learn that reading and writing were very much not universal skills among Narses¡¯ populace, and so being literate was held up as a very valuable trait.


    Learning of the city¡¯s literacy problems had made Sven wonder about its education system which, unsurprisingly, turned out to be pretty much non-existent.


    There was very little effort, outside of maintaining the city library, put into the nurturing of genius within Narses¡¯ population as most of the city¡¯s money was being spent elsewhere.


    Where exactly Sven didn¡¯t know, but it certainly wasn¡¯t in education or infrastructure, that was for sure. As, still, even in the nicer area of the city he was in, he could always damn smell open sewage.


    Due to near-constant exposure, he had become partly used to the smell, but that didn¡¯t mean he¡¯d come to accept it as perfectly fine.


    If he ever found himself in a position of influence in the city, he would see to it that this city built a  functioning sewer so he didn¡¯t have to wade through a fog of shit every time he went for a walk.


    Oh, how he could dream...

 Chapter 9: Murder

    The Alchemists Guild lobby was full of people talking in hushed tones as the sad news was spread like a plague to everyone in the guild.


    Young Tobias, the guild¡¯s unofficial messenger boy as well as an up and coming apprentice, had been found dead on the street, his body broken, and all of his possessions taken.


    Sven, standing in the corner of the large lobby, stood next to Jackson, could hardly believe what he had been told, as the child¡¯s fate seemed just too cruel to even contemplate.


    Yet, beneath his and everyone else¡¯s confusion and disbelief was a simmering outrage.


    For while alchemists had a rather infamously selfish and disinterested reputation, no group could easily stomach one of them being murdered. Not even a room full of old foxes.


    The aura of the guild master washing over them all turned the room silent as he emerged from his office with a cold and terrifying expression on his face.


    His aura was far different than it had been when he had announced the competition as Sven could feel deep in his bones the bloodlust that the man harbored in his heart as he walked out and onto the grandiose mahogany balcony overlooking the guild lobby.


    Then, after wrapping one of his hands around the balcony¡¯s banister, he proclaimed, ¡°Colleagues! I have gathered you here today to deliver the gravest of news.¡±


    The man¡¯s aura only intensified as he continued, ¡°Last night, as young Tobias was out running one of his usual errands, an evil struck out at him, and in doing so struck out at all of us!¡±


    ¡°For this evil, whoever or whatever it was, was no mere brutish thug,¡± The guild master roared in a voice that sent shivers down Sven¡¯s spine, ¡°but a cultivator of the demonic arts!¡±


    The other people in the room barely had time to gasp in shock and horror before the guild master bellowed, ¡°A wretched curse has crawled out of the sewage of humanity to kill one of us!¡±


    The imposing man¡¯s aura then intensified to the point where Sven found it difficult to remain in an upright position as the pressure of a fully fledged [Earth] realm cultivator bore down onto him.


    ¡°It is our duty as cultivators of the Orthodox Path to purge this taint on the very fabric of existence with all due prejudice!¡± The infuriated man boomed.


    ¡°So, prepare yourselves!¡± The man then ordered forcefully, ¡°For it has fallen to this here guild to be the deliverers of Heaven¡¯s Justice! Of dignity! Of Righteous Vengeance!¡±


    ¡°I want you all to produce as many elixirs and status potions as you can! For today the blood of an innocent child has been spilled, and so now must the heads of a thousand demon scum be forced to roll across the field of battle, straight into the pits of damnation where they belong!¡±


    The guild hall erupted with applause and monotone affirmative jeering and roaring from the more vigorous alchemists in the room.


    In that moment, the blood lust in the room was amplified tenfold as everyone¡¯s auras blasted out and the fury toward the unknown killer became palpable.


    Unlike last time, Sven was somewhat caught up in the mood of the room as well. For he had spoken with the boy many times over his months in the guild.


    He had been young, talented, and while he could sometimes come across as a little smug, he had had a burning passion in his eyes for the craft of alchemy that made him impossible to dislike.


    At least, impossible for Sven to dislike.


    Standing there, bathed in the killing intent of others, Sven began nurturing some dark thoughts of his own as he imagined what he¡¯d like to do to-


    Sven forced himself to release a deep breath as he slowly unclenched his whitening fists.


    He had never felt anger like he did now and it was oh so hard to control.


    But, if his own father¡¯s example had taught him anything, it was that it was precisely when angriest that one needed to be able to exert the most control.


    Or else, you¡¯d end up in a very bad place, very quickly.


    He was thus much more clear headed than were many of the people around him, as a receptionist handed him a scroll which he said contained the elixirs that Sven would be required to make.


    Sven had nodded in response before quickly moving to get back to his workshop.


    For, despite having been an alchemist for many months, he had yet to truly make an elixir.


    Elixirs were, in many ways, akin to potions. However, due to the nature of the permanency of their effects, they were prohibitively more expensive and rare.


    For example, the elixir that he had received for successfully finding the city of Narses improved an individual¡¯s bodily integrity, boosting strength, durability, etc.


    Whereas, while you could take potions that increased your strength and durability, this would only be a temporary boost, and would also incur a lot of backlash afterwards.


    The usefulness of elixirs was thus much more than a regular potion, and therefore demanded a far greater price point due to the insane ingredients that were required to make them.


    It was thus only in very rare circumstances when the guild would put out a request for elixirs that it didn¡¯t intend to sell to an already lined up buyer as that would very quickly drain its funds.


    The murder of one of its own by a ¡°demonic¡± cultivator, whatever that meant, clearly was one such occasion, and for so many reasons Sven was willing to comply with the concoction request.


    As not only would it help hopefully bring Tobias¡¯ murderer to justice, it would also simultaneously allow him to experiment with a branch of alchemy that he hadn¡¯t yet tried out.


    Hence, when Sven walked into his workshop, his mind was already resolved, and his eyes were full of determination. As he swore that he¡¯d help in whatever way he could to avenge young Tobias.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    He had been mere seconds away from getting to work when he suddenly froze up as he rewound a bit as a thought came to him, ¡®Wait a minute¡­ now where did I put those rewards I got?¡¯


    Godfrey nodded gratefully to the young serving woman who placed the steaming hot plate full of food before him with a professional¡¯s grace.


    ¡°I hope you enjoy the food, young lord,¡± The luxuriously dressed man sat opposite implored with a smile a bit too wide to be genuine, ¡°My wife made sure that the chef made it all properly.¡±


    One of Godfrey¡¯s squad mates, Gregory, nodded beside him as he asked in response, ¡°Will Lady Jill soon be joining us for dinner, Lord Harold?¡±


    The 34 or so year old man laughed heartily at the question before replying cheerily, ¡°Oh no! Like a lot of women, my wife has no interest in politics and the like. So, I¡¯m afraid, it¡¯ll stay just us men for tonight. Better not to involve her in things that don¡¯t interest her, wouldn¡¯t you say?¡±


    ¡°Quite so.¡± Godfrey and the rest of his squad politely affirmed as they began to slowly eat away at the food on their newly served up plates.


    After a few slices of meat had been eaten, Godfrey set down his cutlery on his plate, and asked, ¡°It has been a long time since I was in Narses last, how would you say the city is these days?¡±


    Lord Harold wiped off his mouth with a nearby cloth before replying, ¡°Hmm, from what my agents in the city have told me, everything is mostly the same as always.¡±


    ¡°Which is to say?¡± Godfrey replied, interested. He had been only a boy the last time he¡¯d resided in the city he was to rule one day, and so he wanted to get a clearer picture of it in his mind.


    For all he had now was vague foggy glimpses of the city from his early years.


    ¡°Well, you know,¡± The older lord began, ¡°The oasis district is still as beautiful as ever. The slums are still dreary and foul smelling. The guilds, sects, and common enterprises are as low and brutish as always. In other words, it is as I said, pretty much unchanged from when you left it as a boy.¡±


    ¡°I see,¡± Godfrey responded, not exactly sure the man had clarified much for him.


    ¡°Though, now that I say that,¡± The older noble said with a scratch at his chin, ¡°I did hear rumors an old friend of mine shared with me that there was some kind of demonic cultivator attack.¡±


    ¡°There was a what?!¡± Godfrey exclaimed, his heart skipping a beat inside his chest.


    The other man waved his hands dismissively as he answered, ¡°A demonic cultivator attack. Though I do doubt the source, that alchemist bastard is hardly reliable at the best of times¡­¡±


    A tense silence fell over the room as Godfrey¡¯s look of shock slowly faded and he leaned back into his chair as internally his thoughts became chaotic.


    He inwardly cursed himself out for having taken so many breaks along the way as he was now still a month and a half¡¯s journey away from Narses when it needed him.


    Or, maybe it was more accurate to say, he was still a half a month¡¯s journey away when he needed to be there, preferably the day before it happened.


    As now the city¡¯s sects and or guilds would seize the opportunity to make his family seem weak as there was no way his ailing father was in any kind of condition to fight a demonic cultivator.


    Especially not one capable of bypassing the city core¡¯s anti-demonic perimeter shield.


    Godfrey¡¯s concerns only grew as more and more details about recent developments within the city of Narses were casually revealed to him by the man sitting opposite.


    For while Lord Harold insisted that everything was pretty much as it always had been, that just had to be false. There was no way that his family¡¯s territory had always been this bad.


    It just couldn¡¯t be that random women and children being taken hostage or sold into slavery was a normal thing that his family just put up with.


    But, there was no other way to explain or justify the man opposite¡¯s seeming cavalierness to the issues. To him, these were issues that had just become a normal part of life in Narses.


    Godfrey left the dinner with the lord shaken to his core as his childish memories of the city that his father ran were now tainted with the harsh realities of the lives of the common people.


    He knew that most of his squad mates were equally disturbed by what they heard, but they didn¡¯t seem to be as surprised as he was to hear just how bad things had gotten.


    Maybe Godfrey had been somewhat naive in assuming his father¡¯s domain was just as safe for the common man as the capital, but he refused to allow himself to accept the current status quo.


    Before the Sand Maw Gang had been an excuse for him to return to see his father before he died, but now, Godfrey felt a slowly growing fury inside his chest toward the group of brigands.


    Thus, upon reaching his guest chambers for the night, he immediately began cultivating. For while he was confident he could deal with most opponents, demonic cultivators were always tricky.


    And, considering this particular cultivator seemed to be able to phase through the barrier, he was likely currently much stronger than was Godfrey.


    Hence, Godfrey needed to grow. He needed to progress. As otherwise the alchemist boy may not be the last victim that the demonic cultivator claims. Heck, they might just claim the whole city.


    As the heir to the city, and thus someone who bore the solemn responsibility to defend it, Godfrey could and would not let that happen.


    That he swore to the heavens.