《Bloodmarked : The Godforge Prophecy》


 Prologue: Destruction and Hope

    Spring.


    No matter which plane or continent it is, spring is a season that delights most races.


    However, there are always exceptions. In this world made up of numerous planes, countless continents, complex races, and billions of living beings, exceptions may be few, but their absolute number still surpasses the computing capacity of many intelligent races.


    The world is complex, to the extent that even the gods find it difficult to grasp in its entirety. Destruction and rebirth alternate, stars and energies flicker in the void. The heavens themselves are complex, with countless stars shining in the endless night sky, gazed upon by an unknown number of beings. In the eyes of different beings, the stars hold different meanings: they are both hope and destruction. Some see eternal stillness, others see the hidden paths of cosmic laws in their movements. In the eyes of most, stars are symbols of the gods, while in the eyes of a few wise beings, the stars represent planes, lands, and countless strange worlds.


    The stars are eternal, yet only a few beings can foresee their destruction, and even fewer have witnessed it firsthand. These beings, they are now one with the stars. For the stars too will perish, and thus, so shall they fall. But before the end arrives, they often believe they have become eternal.


    Spring is a general term. For example, in an unknown plane, there is also spring. However, this plane has only two seasons: the thriving and growing season, which is spring, and the season of life¡¯s slumber and death, which is autumn. Every cycle of the seasons, by the laws of the world¡¯s primary plane, spans twelve years. In this plane, three suns hang in the sky, and huge stars stretch across the horizon, with starlight and sunlight shining together, visible even during the day. The giant stars¡¯ orbits are surrounded by countless rings of colored bands, slowly rotating. This is the origin of countless beautiful legends in this world.


    This plane does not consist of a single continent; its life-bearer is an entire planet. The surface of the planet is mostly ocean, with land covering less than one-sixth of it. From the sky, the entire planet gleams with a deep purple glow, both magnificent and mysterious. Six moons orbit it, and on every clear night, the planet¡¯s natives can see at least three moons, each with varying shades. These six moons are the source of the magical tides and the foundation of the plane¡¯s magic and civilization.


    On the continent, there are mountains, rivers, lakes, and forests. Purple remains the dominant color, but there are also other mottled hues. The terrain of the continent is winding and undulating, with several towering and treacherous mountain ranges crossing it. The shortest of these mountains spans nearly ten thousand kilometers, and peaks exceeding ten thousand meters are a common sight. Across this land, cities of all sizes are scattered, and the most magnificent of them stands atop the highest peak! At an elevation of twenty thousand meters, the summit of this mountain is as flat as if cut by a blade, occupied by a magnificent city covering hundreds of square kilometers. Within this city, spiral-shaped buildings rise, piercing the sky. They shine with a metallic luster, and the rich purple hue fluctuates, as if life itself circulates through them.


    At the heart of this massive city stands a tower three thousand meters high. The spiraling pinnacle of the tower continuously spouts purple and gold symbols that form brilliant light bands, swirling around the spire. At the very top of the tower stands a tall figure¡ªhis upper body humanoid, with muscular arms bulging with strength, and beneath him, two reverse-jointed legs ending in massive hooves. His dark blue skin does not hide the majesty of his face, and dozens of long, thin tendrils grow from his chin and cheeks, constantly waving as if they were alive. He wears strange heavy armor that gleams with a metallic sheen, with several key parts, such as the shoulder armor, actually growing directly from his body.


    He is an old man, and the deep wrinkles on his skin are not natural, but scars carved by the passage of time.


    He stands in a vast space, with countless glowing runes floating around him. Their paths appear chaotic, but in truth, they align with the movements of the stars. In front of him, a ten-meter-high transparent wall acts as a panoramic screen, allowing him to see the outside world. This is a miraculous city built on the summit of a twenty-thousand-meter-high peak, and the place where he stands is the highest point in the city. Looking out from here, the distant horizon clearly arcs, and if one¡¯s sight is sharp enough, they might feel that they are gazing upon the entire world.


    This is the place that all beings in this plane dream of standing in one day. It has an apt name¡ªThe Hall of Overlook. And the towering spire at the center of the city is the holy land of the entire continent: the Twilight Temple.


    In the depths of the Hall of Overlook, a flash of light appears, and a young figure emerges from the light. His body is even more imposing, striding forward, his hooves clashing with the metallic floor, sending sparks flying. Each heavy step causes the entire hall to tremble. Inside his powerful frame, a surge of energy cannot be suppressed, leaking out in flashes of lightning or dark black mini-storms that smash against his heavy armor, which remains unscathed despite the violent energy impact.


    The young man rushes to kneel behind the old man, his voice clear and forceful as he says, "High Priest! My forces can no longer hold out, please leave at once!"


    The old man does not respond, nor does he move. Even his tendrils fall softly, calm, as he continues to gaze at the outside world, as though nothing could divert his attention. It is the twilight hour, the most beautiful time on this continent, when the noise of the day gradually fades, and the sky is painted with soft purple hues. The two suns that have not yet set, along with the three rising moons, all hang in the sky, and a beautiful ring of light reflects colors so numerous that no living being can fully distinguish them. It is a time when countless legends unfold, and it is also the origin of the Twilight Temple¡¯s name.


    But this twilight now feels like the end of the world. Flashing lights appear intermittently in the mountains, followed by columns of fire shooting up into the sky, slowly turning into thick black smoke. Now, this dark smoke has covered half the sky. But in the areas visible, countless small dots can be seen swirling in the sky, chasing and colliding with each other, with occasional figures falling, burning as they descend. The transparent magical wall isolates the sound, but the tremors cannot be blocked. The Hall of Overlook continues to shake.


    Far in the sky, a blood-red planet occupies most of the sky, and against its backdrop, dozens of massive dark shapes can be seen floating in the air. They move slowly, seemingly insignificant from a distance, but in truth, each one is almost as large as an entire city! These giant shapes have fins like ship sails protruding from their backs, and enormous bone wings stretch out to the sides. They resemble the ancient beasts that once lurked in the deepest parts of the oceans, massive and incomprehensible in size.


    They sway their bodies slowly, shaking off pieces of flame. Each flame can cover an entire city. This is not magical fire, nor is it divine flame. It has almost no temperature but can burn everything and cannot be extinguished. Beneath them, cities begin to burn, and the cries of the dying stretch out endlessly. In this flame, inanimate matter burns fiercely until it is completely consumed, but life can persist for a long time, a slow and painful death.


    From afar, the sky is sometimes lit by strange red clouds, signaling the appearance of yet another ancient beast.


    Figures rise from the mountains, charging towards the massive black shapes soaring through the sky. The High Priest and the young man both know that these are warriors from their race, now launching a desperate assault against an unseen enemy, at the cost of their lives. Their attacks are heroic and tragic, but with little effect. The majority of the warriors are engulfed by the unquenchable flames before they can even get close to the enemy, falling from the sky with their cries.


    Flames, ice spears, and lightning shoot up from the ground, crossing vast distances, hitting the enemies floating in the sky. The ability to launch magical attacks so far means that those delivering them are not nameless beings in this vast continent. Though the coverage of those flames and lightning seems small, their power is enough to flatten an entire mountain. Behind those seemingly simple lights and shadows are names that make one¡¯s breath catch: deep blue roars, void divine punishments, searing light beams, dragon breaths, and neutral slashes.


    However, when these powerful magical attacks, divine arts, and skills hit the giant beasts, they only stir ripples in the air, shattering a few flames and causing a few small black mushroom clouds to burst forth from their bodies. But the beasts¡¯ paths of flight do not veer even slightly, showing that no harm has been done to them.


    The young man remains kneeling, but his gaze shifts to the silent end-of-world scene outside the wall. He already has a deep understanding of these unseen enemies. Only moments before, he was one of the fearless warriors charging into the sky, but he returned to the ground alive thanks to his superhuman strength, coming here to the Hall of Overlook. It is not that he lacks the courage to die, but rather that a more important responsibility awaits him here.


    So when he speaks again, his voice carries a faint sense of despair: "High Priest, only the attacks of peak warriors can cause them harm. The magic and divine arts of legendary mages and priests are completely ineffective! Even the divine punishments cast using the power of the gods are useless! But to them, the damage caused by peak warriors is insignificant. High Priest, the gods have abandoned us..."


    "Don¡¯t worry, we still have the war beasts of the gods," the High Priest replies slowly.


    "But..." the young warrior trails off, turning once again to gaze at the world of doom outside.


    The earth trembles, and from the distant mountains rises a silver giant dragon, its grace and beauty lighting up the mountainside. This is one of the peak war beasts, the guardian of the plane, the Frost Dragon, Sera. Over the ages, her presence has destroyed countless invasions from otherworldly creatures.


    Even in the silent Hall of Overlook, the earth-shattering roar of the Frost Dragon seems to echo. She lunges at one of the massive enemies in the sky


    , attacking with claws, horns, and breath. Compared to the enemies floating above, the Frost Dragon seems small and frail, but with her strike, the unknown enemy begins to struggle violently for the first time, slowly plummeting toward the mountains below.


    At the same time, cheers erupt across the continent. For the first time in the doomsday war, an enemy has been struck down.


    "But... there is only one Sera." The young man speaks words that could be considered blasphemous, but the High Priest merely sighs deeply. This young man is the continent¡¯s most outstanding genius of the past decade, his power having reached the pinnacle known in legend. He is also the sole survivor of the battle against the harbinger of the end of days. His judgment is never wrong.


    The High Priest''s skin wrinkles even more deeply, as though he has aged decades in an instant. He shakes his head and sighs heavily. Several of his tendrils fall from his chin, turning to ash before they even hit the ground.


    Suddenly, a grayish-white light column appears in the distance, connecting the earth and the sky. This is the place where Sera struck down the destroyer of the apocalypse. Within the gray light column, the Frost Dragon soars, struggling to escape the grasp of the gray light. She roars in intense pain, but her wings quickly disintegrate, and her massive body is shrouded in silver sand, dissipating in an instant, becoming nothing but particles of silver dust.


    "High Priest! We must go, it¡¯s not too late! With my strength, I can open a portal between planes and send you to another world. As long as you survive, the legacy of the Twilight Temple will live on!" The young man¡¯s voice remains strong and resolute. Though he does not say it, the cost of opening the portal would be his entire life and soul. But this is the last hope for the world.


    In the High Priest¡¯s hand, a bronze-colored book suddenly appears. This heavy, ancient tome emanates the solemn aura of billions of years from the plane¡¯s creation, filling the entire Hall of Overlook.


    "The Book of Eternity!!" Hope shines in the young man¡¯s eyes once more. He had almost forgotten that the High Priest still possessed such a divine artifact.


    But the High Priest remains calm as he opens the Book of Eternity. As the pages turn, an image begins to emerge: it is the Frost Dragon struggling in the gray light column. The yellowed, monochromatic lines of the ancient pages send a tremor through every soul that gazes upon it. It is the very image of despair.


    The young man clearly understands the nature of the Book of Eternity, but he merely scans the page briefly, his focus quickly turning back to the High Priest¡¯s hand, silently urging him to turn the page. The High Priest does not pause, and the pages of the Book of Eternity silently turn, finally revealing the last page.


    But after the fall of the guardian of the plane, there are no more chapters.


    The young man stares blankly at the last page of the Book of Eternity, his heart hollow.


    Outside the wall, all the end-of-world destroyers have caught fire, and gray light columns now pierce the heavens. They are the fire starters, igniting the entire plane.


    The Sixth Epoch ends here.


    It is finished.


    The legendary continent of Norland was a land both magical and breathtakingly beautiful. Its vastness was almost beyond imagination, and its fertility and abundance inspired awe.


    If Norland were likened to an extravagant robe adorned with jewels and rare treasures, then the Evernight Forest¡ªstretching for thousands of kilometers¡ªwould merely be a single, lovely emerald sewn upon its hem. It was neither the largest nor the most stunning gem on the garment. Yet, some whispered that the forest¡¯s true area was far greater than depicted on any map. Legends spoke of more than one hidden demi-plane concealed within its depths, and the court of the Silvermoon Elves was said to lie at its very heart. But legends were simply that¡ªlegends. No human or other race had ever entered the fabled elven court; perhaps a precious few had managed to do so throughout the ages, but they evidently chose to keep the secret to themselves.


    Near the outskirts of the Evernight Forest, a small, ordinary merchant caravan moved forward leisurely. Consisting of just over a dozen wagons and fewer than twenty guards, the convoy traveled at an unhurried pace, an unusual sight among merchants who firmly believed that time was money.


    It was the most beautiful and delightful season on the continent. Warm breezes carried the fragrance of blooming flowers, gently brushing away the fatigue from body and mind. The caravan wasn¡¯t large, and its cargo wasn¡¯t particularly heavy. Anyone with experience could easily recognize the goods as specialties from the Evernight Forest¡ªmagical beast furs, meats, rare materials, and exotic timber. In contrast, the guards seemed almost luxurious: twenty young warriors, each at the peak of their physical prowess, clad in meticulously crafted armor and uniformly equipped with weapons, astride steeds that met the standards of military warhorses. Such fine equipment suggested they were formidable; even though they were young, it was clear their employer wasn¡¯t short on money. In a society where wealth and power were closely linked, such ostentation spoke volumes.


    The flower-and-branch emblem emblazoned on the wagons indicated nobility. Anyone versed in heraldry would immediately recognize the significance of the three quails at its center. It belonged to a family with at least four centuries of history¡ªancient enough, and honored enough in past wars. Though the emblem might not represent the most illustrious lineage, it showed the family had certainly not declined.


    Nearby thieves would assess this caravan differently: the guards¡¯ high-quality gear compensated for any potential lack of skill. Defeating them would undoubtedly incur heavy losses, with limited spoils hardly justifying the risk. Thieves always thought practically; shining armor and costly weapons influenced their decisions far more than actual fighting prowess.


    Thus, the modest caravan passed peacefully, untroubled by any reckless bandits.


    Within the convoy rode a young girl dressed in elegant, fitted light armor. Her lovely chestnut hair was tied casually behind her head, and her bright eyes sparkled with youthful innocence and restless energy. Yet, the great two-handed sword hanging from her saddle hinted she might not be as harmless as she appeared. She yawned broadly and glanced around, boredom evident on her face.


    ¡°It¡¯s so quiet... Not even a single bandit group? Did they suddenly grow brains?¡±


    Beside her rode a slightly older girl, who smiled gently at her remark. ¡°The ones without brains have already been wiped out.¡±


    The younger girl pouted stubbornly. ¡°But aren¡¯t there at least some with a bit of courage?¡±


    ¡°The courageous thieves usually die even faster.¡±


    Unable to find a suitable retort, the younger girl puffed her cheeks in frustration. ¡°Elanie, I never win when arguing with you!¡±


    Elanie wore a simple robe commonly seen on apprentice mages or junior wizards. Her dark hair was gathered loosely behind her, several strands falling gracefully along her slender face and over her shoulders. Although not exceptionally beautiful, there was a serene grace about her that naturally drew attention. Clearly fond of her younger companion, Elanie effortlessly cheered her up with a few softly spoken words, quickly returning the girl¡¯s spirits.


    Suddenly, rapid hoofbeats echoed from behind the caravan, alerting the guards instantly. Though the wagons continued without pause, every guard¡¯s hand instinctively went to their weapons. They were now within Viscount Ansik¡¯s lands, known for his ruthless suppression of banditry. Still, the guards remained cautious, well-trained and alert.


    Thunderous hoofbeats approached swiftly!


    Yet, from the swirling dust emerged only a single rider¡ªa rugged, burly man, his wild hair tied with a crimson cloth. Oddly enough, he wore leather armor directly over bare skin, revealing his powerful, hairy chest. Beneath him was a black warhorse, clearly mixed with magical beast blood, towering significantly above ordinary mounts. Rider and horse galloped with the force and sound of an entire army charging.


    The rider¡¯s imposing aura unsettled several guards, who instinctively tightened their grips on their weapons. One even partially drew his sword, revealing the gleaming blade of a finely crafted magical weapon, whose value alone exceeded that of an entire cart of ordinary beast hides.


    With a metallic ring, the younger girl¡¯s greatsword leaped into her hands almost of its own accord. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she stared at the approaching rider. ¡°A bandit?!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be silly,¡± Elanie gently admonished her eager companion, signaling the guards to clear the center of the road. Some guards hesitated, clearly displeased, but obeyed silently and moved aside.


    The rider thundered past the caravan, man and horse like a storm, whipping Elanie¡¯s hair into a wild dance as he sped by.


    About fifty meters ahead, the black steed reared dramatically, spinning in place until the rider faced the caravan once more. The man¡¯s voice boomed, clearly audible:


    ¡°Hey there, beautiful girl¡ªI¡¯m Gordon!¡±


    With that roar, horse and rider spun back and raced off again, leaving everyone in stunned silence.


    ¡°Elanie, was he trying to hit on you?¡± the younger girl asked after a long pause.


    ¡°He meant you, Shia.¡±


    ¡°No, he was clearly looking at you...¡± Before Shia could finish, Elanie flicked a tiny whirlwind at Shia¡¯s horse, startling it into a reluctant trot forward and carrying the protesting girl away.


    Aside from this minor incident, nothing else disturbed their journey. By twilight, the caravan had reached its planned resting spot¡ªthe bustling town of Ludwik¡ªand prepared to spend the night there.


    Ludwik Town was small, with only a single main road running through it, accompanied by several narrow alleys. The native population barely numbered a few hundred, yet its location¡ªsituated perfectly between Viscount Ansik¡¯s domain and the Evernight Forest¡ªmade it a bustling center for traders and travelers, and as a result, the town was quite prosperous. The number of inns and taverns in the town was disproportionately high, and there were many shops selling weapons, magical artifacts, and magical beast furs. However, the most popular item among mercenaries was the locally made strong liquor.


    As night fell, the town became brightly lit, with even the breeze carrying the scents of food and drink. It was dinnertime, a moment of respite for those who had toiled all day. Inside the inn¡¯s large dining hall, Elanie and Shia had taken a table, while the guards and the rest of the caravan had spread out to their own seats. The dining hall was spacious, and even with dozens of people inside, it only occupied a small part of the space, with other merchants and mercenaries filling up the remaining seats.


    Near the bar, three bards were performing. Two were playing guitars, and the older one in the middle was drumming rhythmically on a hand drum, singing an epic tale about the Black Knight King Alexander. The gritty, hoarse voice, the powerful drumbeats, the exotic music, and the passionate story all combined to create a captivating atmosphere. Even though the story had been sung for years, the audience still listened intently, as if enchanted. Jugs of strong liquor were brought to the tables, consumed eagerly, and the alcohol quickly surged into their veins, heating up their blood. The rhythm of the drum slowly gripped everyone¡¯s hearts. Even Elanie and Shia were drawn into the performance.


    Suddenly, there was a thunderous sound of hooves outside the door, which abruptly stopped. A powerful man then entered the hall. He was so tall that he had to duck his head slightly to fit through the door. He scanned the room, and upon spotting Elanie and Shia, his eyes lit up. Without regard for the murderous glares from the guards, he strode over to their table, sat down with a loud thump, and fixed his gaze on Elanie, grinning widely.


    ¡°Hey, beautiful! We meet again! My name¡¯s Gordon!¡±


    It was now clear that he was a rugged, brash man with a strong, sculpted face, his features as hard as metal. His thick mustache, bristling like steel needles, covered his upper lip, yet it was evident he was still quite young. His eyes were clear and pure, like two deep green gems, and staring into them for too long gave the impression that they shimmered with an inner light. His dark skin had a fresh, faint scar running from the corner of his eye across his left cheek, which, far from ruining his chiseled features, seemed to add to his masculine charm. His leather armor was worn, with several scratches that hadn¡¯t been repaired yet.


    Shia¡¯s eyes lit up, and without hesitation, she stared at Gordon. ¡°A thief?¡±


    ¡°Aventurer,¡± he replied.


    ¡°Such a bore!¡± Shia¡¯s response was full of disappointment, but she didn¡¯t give up and continued questioning, ¡°Then why are you bothering us?¡±


    Gordon grinned widely and pointed at Elanie. ¡°Because I like her!¡±


    ¡°So you¡¯re just a pervert!¡± Shia said, her face full of disappointment.


    Elanie remained calm, though behind her, the sound of metal scraping echoed as the guards, faces hard with anger, drew their weapons. The moment the swords were unsheathed, the young guards¡¯ posture shifted, a cold and murderous aura emanating from them. The temperature in the restaurant seemed to drop as other mercenaries, once chatting loudly, slowly fell silent, eyeing the situation with nervous curiosity. Veterans of adventuring understood what this sudden shift in atmosphere meant. These guards weren¡¯t just skilled¡ªthey had blood on their hands, and their true strength far surpassed their youthful appearance.


    Elanie frowned slightly, her pale blue eyes meeting Gordon¡¯s intense gaze without flinching. She raised her hand slightly, and the murderous intent of the guards disappeared. The swords were returned to their sheaths, and the guards quietly sat back down, but their cold, watchful eyes remained fixed on Gordon. One wrong move from him, and those blades would be drawn again in an instant.


    Elanie spoke in a calm, indifferent tone, ¡°I don¡¯t like pointless pestering. This won¡¯t get you anywhere.¡±


    Gordon laughed loudly. ¡°I like you, and you¡¯ll fall for me too! It¡¯s in the prophecy.¡±


    ¡°You like me because of a prophecy?¡± Elanie¡¯s expression remained unchanged, and her voice was as calm as ever. She didn¡¯t even ask where this prophecy came from.


    ¡°The second part is prophecy, but the first part isn¡¯t. I saw you, then I liked you. It¡¯s that simple.¡±


    ¡°Whose prophecy?¡±


    ¡°Mine!¡±


    Elanie sighed helplessly. If Gordon¡¯s behavior had sparked a hint of curiosity earlier, she was now certain he was nothing more than a rogue. His eyes were unexpectedly clear, which had kept her from having the guards force him out, but his antics were beginning to wear on her patience.


    Shia, on the other hand, seemed even more intrigued. ¡°Well, since you like Elanie, you should do something to show it! How about buying us a drink?¡±


    Before Elanie could protest, Gordon pulled out a pouch of coins, spilling them across the table. Pointing to the members of the caravan, he called out loudly, ¡°Hey, boss! I¡¯m treating. Get these gentlemen each a glass of grape¡­uh, no, mead¡­¡±


    The amount of money Gordon spilled on the table wasn¡¯t much, most of it being copper coins. There were only a few silver coins and not a single gold coin in sight. This sum wasn¡¯t enough to buy even a glass of expensive grape liquor, let alone a drink for everyone. Gordon scratched his head, smiling awkwardly. ¡°Well¡­ I just started adventuring, haven¡¯t made much money yet¡­¡±


    The whole restaurant burst into laughter. The life of an adventurer was often dull and dangerous, so a little bit of chaos was a welcome diversion. The faces of the guards, however, grew darker.


    Shia seemed even more interested in Gordon now. ¡°I must be prettier than Elanie, and my figure¡¯s better. Why don¡¯t you like me?¡±


    Shia, full of energy, was half a head taller than Elanie. Years of training had given her a body as graceful and dangerous as a cheetah, a physique that was far more alluring to men than Elanie¡¯s.


    ¡°Well¡­ liking someone doesn¡¯t need a reason. I saw her, and I liked her,¡± Gordon said, scratching his head.


    Shia wasn¡¯t about to let him off the hook. ¡°Then tell me, what makes you worthy of someone like my sister Elanie?¡±


    "Look, I¡¯m a noble!" Gordon pulled a crest from his pocket. The intricate patterns were somewhat faded, but it was still clear that it was a very old object. In the present day on the continent, status was of immense importance wherever humans lived, and many privileges were reserved only for the nobility.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    "Then where¡¯s your castle? How many vassals do you have?" This was the typical measure of a noble¡¯s power.


    Gordon¡¯s face turned a rare shade of red. "The ancestral castle¡­ was sold off generations ago. As for me, I don¡¯t have the right to inherit it yet." He phrased it delicately, but the truth was clear: his family had fallen into decline, losing its traditional lands, and Gordon didn¡¯t have inheritance rights.


    "What about the rest?"


    "I¡¯m a level-three warrior, but I haven¡¯t chosen an advancement path yet." Gordon flexed his muscular arms and rock-solid chest. Unfortunately, this didn¡¯t really prove much¡ªonce a warrior reached a higher level, strength was no longer solely measured by muscle.


    Shia didn¡¯t bother hiding her disdain. "Level-three warrior? There are plenty of those."


    "It¡¯s not the same! I¡¯m a genius, I can use magical tattoos!" Gordon extended his arm, revealing the magical armguard. Etched on his forearm was the image of a bull, lifelike and detailed. This was no mere tattoo, but a magical sigil, equivalent to a small magical array embedded on the wearer¡¯s body, granting significant attribute boosts or powerful skills. The presence of a magical sigil was another sign of one¡¯s strength. Magical sigils were rare not just because of their power, but because magical sigil craftsmen were exceedingly scarce. For every two people, one could potentially bear a sigil, yet it was extremely rare to find someone who had actually obtained one.


    "That¡¯s just the Bull¡¯s Strength, nothing special. Is that really what you call genius?" Shia, clearly well-versed in these matters, immediately recognized the sigil¡¯s function. The Bull¡¯s Strength sigil gave warriors a strength boost¡ªuseful, but one of the most common magical tattoos. Elanie¡¯s gaze lingered on Gordon¡¯s arm for a moment longer before she furrowed her brow in thought.


    Gordon calmly put his armguard back on. "I don¡¯t have the money for a better sigil. But once I find a relic or kill a high-level magical beast, I¡¯ll have the funds. Look at my body¡ªit can bear four sigils."


    "Now that¡¯s more like it!" Shia seemed slightly satisfied. One¡¯s potential for sigils wasn¡¯t just about their base attributes or class; it was also about how many sigils they could bear. Most adventurers could only bear one sigil in their lifetime. Gordon could carry four, which was already a very good level, meaning he could have more attribute boosts or powerful skills than an average adventurer.


    With no further tension, the attention of the other patrons in the tavern gradually shifted elsewhere. The bards¡¯ singing resumed, their deep, rhythmic drumming blending perfectly with the heavy, aromatic liquor. Shia quickly became more familiar with Gordon, exchanging various adventuring stories, and the alcohol kept flowing. Although it was her first time traveling far from home, Gordon¡¯s vast experience made for thrilling tales, keeping Shia rapt.


    The rest of the evening continued on with a lively but peaceful atmosphere¡ªno fights or disturbances. By the time the crowd had dispersed late into the night, no one could recall how much of the tavern¡¯s wine cellar had been consumed, but the satisfied smile on the old man behind the bar said it all. Even Shia was swaying, barely able to stand, before Elanie had to drag her back.


    The next morning, as the caravan set off, they were surprised to see Gordon already awake, dressed in rough clothes, scrubbing horses in the stable, doing the kind of work usually reserved for servants.


    "Gordon, what are you doing?" Shia called out.


    "Not enough money to pay for the drinks and the room," Gordon¡¯s voice rang out, bright and carefree. "No choice but to work it off!" Despite doing servant¡¯s work in the guise of a noble, he seemed entirely unconcerned by any embarrassment. His movements were skilled and earnest, and each horse under his care gleamed with a polished coat.


    It suddenly dawned on Shia that all the drinks from the night before must have been charged to Gordon¡¯s tab. She burst out laughing and told Gordon to enjoy the work. With that, she urged her horse forward. As the caravan rolled on, Elanie turned back and saw Gordon¡¯s towering figure still waving farewell from the stable.


    The caravan journeyed northeast, leaving Viscount Ansik¡¯s domain, passing through Count Bernan¡¯s territory, and entering Count Tudom¡¯s domain. Half a month passed in peaceful travel, with no sign of the bandits Shia had been expecting. However, they did run into Gordon twice more. He followed the caravan, telling more adventuring tales, buying drinks for the guards, and then working off the debts at the inns. This happened each time. After buying drinks for Shia and the caravan, Gordon would work for several days as labor. The area was quiet and safe, leaving few opportunities for adventurers to make money. Shia seemed unaware of the size of Gordon¡¯s purse, as every time they drank until they could barely move, Gordon would settle the bill, often leaving him to work off the debt.


    "This is punishment, what else for him pestering you so much!" Shia chuckled at Elanie one day. Elanie merely shook her head, saying nothing further.


    The caravan moved forward, resupplying water at each stop. The cargo, however, never changed, still filled with the Evernight Forest¡¯s specialties. Every few days, Gordon would appear. When the thundering sound of hooves and his cheerful laughter filled the air, the guards knew it was him. They also knew he had just paid off his debts. Sometimes, if Gordon was a day late, the guards would feel something was missing.


    Two months had passed. Gordon had treated the caravan to drinks six times. Everyone knew that aside from those six days, he had been working hard to earn money. Perhaps on those six days, he¡¯d worked too. Even the guards, who had initially disliked him, started feeling a little sorry for him. But Shia would always laugh and then add the sizable bills to Gordon¡¯s account.


    Throughout these two months, Elanie and Gordon had spoken fewer than twenty words to each other. Yet the intensity in his eyes gradually became something Elanie found hard to bear.


    The journey was peaceful, yet not peaceful at all.


    They had entered Count Gaul¡¯s domain, part of the Holy Alliance Empire. Among all the human factions on the continent, the Holy Alliance Empire was a behemoth. Unlike traditional empires, the Holy Alliance was more like a union of many smaller noble factions, with the Emperor being the most powerful figure among them. Ahead of the caravan, less than three thousand kilometers away, lay the capital of the Holy Alliance¡ªthe legendary city of Faust.


    The caravan slowly entered the small town of Noifude, within Count Gaul¡¯s territory, which was the scheduled stop for the night. However, as they approached the town, they encountered a group of knights, escorting a mage, riding at full speed out of the town. The road in and out of the town was filled with merchants, and galloping horses were a great danger. The knights wore sky-blue cloaks emblazoned with Count Gaul¡¯s crest, clearly visible from a distance. Travelers familiar with this trade route quickly stepped aside, while the knights skillfully maneuvered their warhorses, avoiding anyone in their path without slowing their pace.


    As they passed the caravan, the mage atop one of the horses suddenly gasped, turning to fix a cold, intense stare on Shia and Elanie. The mage was middle-aged, gaunt, with a sickly bluish hue to his skin, likely the result of toxins accumulated from years spent in magical laboratories. His pupils were murky, but his gaze was so chilling it sent an involuntary shiver through everyone nearby. His mage¡¯s robes were extravagant, covered with intricate patterns, but they weren¡¯t mere decoration. These were magic inscriptions, the result of fixed magic, and such robes could only be worn by a grand mage of at least level nine.


    The knight procession quickly moved down the road, but the mage¡¯s sinister gaze remained etched in everyone¡¯s minds, filling the caravan with an oppressive weight. The caravan stopped in front of the scheduled inn. As the guards dismounted and prepared to enter, Elanie suddenly said, ¡°We need to leave immediately!¡±


    Shia gasped. ¡°But Gordon will catch up with us today.¡±


    ¡°Leave now.¡± Elanie repeated the command, her tone final. Shia didn¡¯t question her further, but silently mounted her horse. Elanie rarely spoke, but when she did, she only repeated herself once.


    It was nearing dusk, and the nearest town was miles away. Leaving Noifude meant camping in the wild. However, Shia didn¡¯t argue. She simply gestured to the guards, and they swiftly mounted their horses. The caravan began its journey again, increasing speed as they left Noifude behind. Soon, they discarded the slower wagons by the roadside. Even so, barely twenty kilometers out, the rumble of hooves echoed from behind.


    Elanie pointed to a low hill by the side of the road and said in a low voice, ¡°Turn, form up for defense!¡± The guards quickly abandoned the wagons and urged their horses up the hill. Dismounting, they readied their weapons. Each guard carried a longsword, though more than half of them had longbows, making the proportion of archers unusually high¡ªan abnormal ratio for an ordinary mercenary group.


    At the end of the road, the sound of hooves grew louder, like rolling thunder. Iron-armored warhorses emerged from the dust, charging toward them. The riders wore full plate armor and wielded two-meter-long heavy swords. Count Gaul¡¯s heavy cavalry! Fifty heavy knights in total. Count Gaul had sent more than half of his elite troops after them!


    Flanking the heavy knights were hundreds of light cavalry, and at the center of the formation was the same mage they had seen at dusk, dressed in his extravagant robes, holding a three-meter-long magic staff. The massive crystal atop the staff shimmered with an alluring light, its radiance mixing with the intricate patterns on his robes, casting a strange glow in the now darkened sky.


    As the heavy knights appeared, the faces of the caravan¡¯s guards changed. Everyone in the caravan had combat skills, even the drivers were level-two warriors. But they were light infantry, fewer than fifty in number, and ordinary arrows posed little threat to the heavily armored knights. And there was also the mage¡ªat least a level twelve grand mage! Such a mage would be treated with caution even by nobles of Count Gaul¡¯s stature. More likely, he served someone of even higher rank.


    On the hill, everyone grew silent, preparing for battle. Their only hope now was that this group wasn¡¯t targeting them, though the hope was slim.


    Back in Noifude, the sound of hooves once again echoed, and Gordon, riding his black warhorse, charged into the town, stopping in front of the largest inn. But there, to his surprise, he didn¡¯t find the familiar caravan¡¯s wagons. The stables were empty. Over the past two months, Gordon had brushed down every horse in the caravan, so he knew them all. But none of the familiar horses were there.


    Gordon¡¯s brow furrowed for the first time. His black warhorse reared, spinning a few times before its iron hooves struck the ground and it sped out of town, disappearing into the dark night.


    Meanwhile, on the hill, the battle had begun. Blood soaked the soil, and the corpses of warhorses and humans lay in heaps. The sound of hooves continued to roar as the heavy knights began to form up at the base of the hill, preparing for a second charge. They had faced unexpected resistance, losing nine comrades, but the remaining forty-one knights still presented an overwhelming threat. Their first charge had torn through the hilltop defenses, claiming the lives of several caravan members. The guards¡¯ arrows had proven shockingly effective, piercing through armor and inflicting serious damage to the heavily armored knights. Meanwhile, the light cavalry who had been providing cover were struck down by more than twenty arrows. Their light armor, mostly chainmail, was almost useless against the piercing arrows.


    Shia panted heavily, gripping her longsword and pointing it forward, her body slightly crouched, ready to spring into action. Her eyes were fixed on the mage a hundred meters away. Her double-handed sword glowed with a soft, ethereal light¡ªit was a high-quality magical sword. Shia¡¯s warrior level wasn¡¯t particularly high, but her swordsmanship and killing power were formidable. Even a heavy knight would be split in two if they faced her head-on. Half of the casualties among Count Gaul¡¯s heavy knights had been caused by her.


    The battlefield was filled with flames, storms, lightning, and explosions of light, while Elanie was locked in a fierce magical duel with the grand mage across from her. Though Elanie¡¯s magic was only at level six, her control over it was superb, and she was momentarily holding her own against his attacks. However, the vast gap in their levels couldn¡¯t be bridged by skill alone. Elanie¡¯s face was pale, sweat beading on her forehead.


    This was a strange caravan. Though their average level was lower than the elite forces under Count Gaul¡¯s command, their equipment and skills far outclassed their opponents, allowing them to hold their ground against such a powerful enemy.


    Shia gathered her strength, her gaze locked on the grand mage. But at a distance of one hundred meters, she knew she could not threaten him. There were still forty heavy knights in her way.


    Suddenly, the mage shuddered, sensing an inexplicable threat. His gaze shifted, and among the many enemies, he locked onto the small, ornate shortbow now in Shia¡¯s hands. It looked like a child¡¯s toy, yet it radiated the most genuine threat of death. The mage¡¯s lips curled into a sinister smile, and for a moment, Shia felt a chill run down her spine. But she steadied her hand, her movements practiced and precise. A delicate arrow was notched onto the shortbow and, in an instant, shot toward the mage¡¯s forehead!


    The arrow¡¯s trajectory defied all common principles, appearing to defy space itself as it reached its target. The mage¡¯s long-range protective shield silently dissipated before the arrow¡¯s point.


    One of the highest skills of an archer¡ªBreaking Magic!


    The arrow left the bow, and Shia couldn¡¯t help but exhale, but what she saw next made her freeze, her eyes wide in shock.


    The mage still wore his sinister, eerie smile, and behind him, a cloud of smoke, seemingly caused by an explosion of magic, coalesced but refused to dissipate. In complete silence, a massive sword extended from the smoke, no slashing motion involved, as though it had been lying there all along. The small arrow collided with the sword¡¯s shaft, easily deflected as though it were no more than a toy. The smoke gradually faded, revealing a knight fully concealed in heavy armor. Light shot out from the gaps in his armor, and his warhorse, far larger than a normal steed, bore no saddles or armor. Instead, intricate magical runes seemed directly etched into its hide.


    ¡°Construct Knight!¡± Shia exclaimed, her voice full of disbelief. For the first time, true fear overtook her expression.


    Construct Knights were the ultimate weapon used by humans in war. They were advanced warriors clad in specially crafted magical heavy armor. But the final characteristic that made a knight a Construct Knight was the magical runes equipped both on their bodies and on their warhorses. Only those who bore five or more magical constructs could be called Construct Knights. On the battlefield, a single Construct Knight could easily slaughter an entire squadron of heavy cavalry, possessing the power to change the outcome of a battle. When the first regiment of Construct Knights appeared hundreds of years ago, they immediately became the deepest nightmare of other races across the continent. From that point on, those skilled in inscribing magical constructs became the most sought-after individuals. However, the extreme talent required for this made such magicians exceedingly rare.


    The appearance of the Construct Knight made Shia momentarily lose her composure. At that moment, a green leaf suddenly shot through the air, sticking to Shia¡¯s body. A massive surge of magical energy erupted from the leaf, enveloping Shia entirely.


    ¡°Elanie!¡± Shia immediately reacted, calling out, but she couldn¡¯t resist the magical force. Her figure gradually became transparent, fading from view. The leaf was a powerful one-time teleportation magic artifact, capable of transporting a person to a designated location in the most dangerous of circumstances. It was a force beyond Shia¡¯s control. As she disappeared, she could only watch helplessly as the overwhelming tide of magic engulfed and knocked down Elanie.


    Elanie had already collapsed, intense pain blurring her vision. She could barely see any guards still resisting. The magic wave that had broken her resolve had also swept over her companions. Although they managed to fend off the incoming light cavalry, the heavy knights were now accelerating. Another charge, and these young and elite warriors would all perish here. Elanie didn¡¯t think of what would happen if she fell into their hands, because she knew she would never let that happen. A jade dagger appeared in Elanie¡¯s hand, pressed against her chest. The blade gleamed with a faint gray light, and the death magic inscribed on it would not only claim her life but destroy her soul, swiftly reducing her body to a pile of ash. Her final magic shield, a magical trinket, was still in place, but it would break soon, marking her end.


    She would leave nothing for these humans.


    The heavy knights began to charge, their thunderous hooves drowning out all sound. But this time, the sound of hooves was different, and Elanie heard something familiar within it.


    Gordon appeared at the edge of the battlefield, and the sight of the Construct Knight¡¯s massive, menacing form made his pupils constrict! He instinctively urged his horse to retreat, but his eyes fell upon the fallen Elanie, her last shield flickering and close to breaking. Gordon¡¯s face turned pale, then flushed red, and his eyes, wide open, were filled with bloodshot veins! With a desperate cry, he urged his horse toward the Construct Knight, charging into him!


    ¡°It¡¯s too late.¡± On the other side, Elanie¡¯s consciousness was beginning to fade. She gripped the dagger tightly and plunged it toward her chest!


    With a sharp slap, her wrist was suddenly struck, sending the death dagger flying away. The blade barely grazed her clothing, just shy of piercing her skin. Had it drawn blood, there would have been no turning back. Then, a strong arm wrapped around her, lifting her up. She felt as though she were floating in the clouds, moving up and down. The familiar scent that reached her nose eased her panic, and her tense nerves loosened. Her vision darkened, and she finally lost consciousness. The last sensation she felt was the warmth and hardness of the person holding her, as though his body were made of steel.


    She didn¡¯t know how long it had been, but when Elanie slowly woke, the first thing she saw was a bare back¡ªdark skin, muscles rippling, and a web of scars. Although the man didn¡¯t turn around, Elanie immediately knew it was Gordon. Her head still felt heavy, and she had no strength left in her body. She was confused about how a level-three warrior could have brought her out of that battlefield. They were in a cave, not a castle¡¯s dungeon.


    She struggled to sit up, and as she did, she felt a chill across her chest. Only then did she realize her magical robe was completely torn open, and even the reinforced inner garment was damaged. As she sat up, the robe fell open, exposing her chest. Hearing movement behind her, Gordon turned just in time to see everything.


    ¡°You!¡± Elanie blushed with fury, raising her hand to cast an instant magic spell. But her magic had already been exhausted. The forced attempt to channel it caused everything to go black before a sharp pain overwhelmed her mind, almost knocking her unconscious again. Her body collapsed back down.


    Gordon rushed over in surprise, catching her as she fell. Elanie struggled violently, but Gordon¡¯s voice cut through the air, ¡°What¡¯s done is done. Don¡¯t move!¡±


    There was something strange in Gordon¡¯s voice, and the soft liquid and the scent of blood splashed onto Elanie¡¯s face, snapping her out of her embarrassment and anger. The wound on Gordon¡¯s left chest was exactly where his heart lay. As Elanie struggled, the wound tore open, and blood spurted out like an arrow.


    Seeing the color drain from Elanie¡¯s face, Gordon remained as relaxed as ever, laughing heartily. He pointed at the wound on his chest and said, ¡°It was from the Construct Knight. No problem! If I hadn¡¯t taken that blow, I wouldn¡¯t have escaped from him! Black Flame¡¯s still young, couldn¡¯t run fast enough.¡±


    Elanie didn¡¯t move, nor did she wipe the blood off her face. Though her chest remained exposed, she no longer noticed, only staring at Gordon¡¯s chest. A level-three warrior, escaping from a Construct Knight of at least level ten, even if he had the best luck, had to pay a price.


    Such a deep wound must have pierced his heart.


    ¡°You¡­¡± She couldn¡¯t finish her sentence because Gordon seemed to understand her thoughts. He took her hand and placed it on his chest. Under the thick, steel-like muscles, Elanie could feel a strong heartbeat.


    ¡°I have two hearts, my recovery is stronger than a troll¡¯s. Losing one heart doesn¡¯t matter,¡± Gordon said with a smile as sunny as ever. Elanie suddenly felt very calm and safe. So when Gordon¡¯s kiss descended, she didn¡¯t resist.


    As night fell, a campfire was lit in the cave, driving away the cold night air.


    Gordon and Elanie sat around the campfire. A wild rabbit was roasting over the flames, but Elanie seemed to have lost her appetite. She hugged her knees, resting her head on them, lost in thought. Just moments ago, at the peak of their intimacy, Elanie had suddenly pushed Gordon away. If it had been anyone else, they might have been enraged. But this man, in that moment, acted as if nothing had happened, cheerfully preparing dinner. His eyes still remained as pure as ever, and Elanie saw no trace of anger or resentment in them¡ªonly happiness and affection.


    ¡°Do you like me?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Of course!¡±


    ¡°And why?¡±


    ¡°No reason.¡±


    Elanie gathered her thoughts before speaking. ¡°We¡¯ve only just met. You don¡¯t know me, nor do you know my past. Have you never wondered why we were attacked by Count Gaul? You must know I have secrets.¡±


    ¡°That doesn¡¯t stop me from liking you. Men of the Ackmond family, when we like someone, we just do. No need for reasons,¡± Gordon said boldly.


    ¡°You wouldn¡¯t care what price you had to pay?¡±


    ¡°Of course not.¡±


    ¡°What if I asked you to die?¡±


    ¡°If it¡¯s necessary, then it¡¯s fine,¡± Gordon laughed.


    Elanie didn¡¯t respond immediately. She fell silent, reflecting on his words. She didn¡¯t believe him. She and Gordon had barely spoken before, and even combined, their conversations had been few. Perhaps he was more familiar with Shia, but this man was saying he would die for her?


    Humans. Humans always make promises so easily but never intend to keep them.


    However, when Elanie saw the wound on Gordon¡¯s chest, still oozing blood, her resolve began to waver.


    Silence.


    After a long while, Elanie finally broke the silence. ¡°People in your family... are they all like this...?¡±


    ¡°Foolish?¡± Gordon laughed and continued, ¡°Maybe! We were all idiots when we were young. But it¡¯s not so bad to be foolish. What¡¯s worse is not being able to meet the people who make you act like a fool.¡±


    ¡°Still, it doesn¡¯t explain much. But Ackmond... That surname is odd. Can you tell me your full name?¡±


    ¡°Gordon Isaiah Saitanistor¨ªa Ackmond.¡±


    Elanie looked up at him, surprised. His eyes were still as pure as the finest gems. Yet, her heart was no longer at peace. The name seemed absurd, and the pronunciation was unlike the traditional language. But her vast knowledge told her that part of the name, especially the middle, was connected to demons. If this man truly had demon blood, this name would bind him in a powerful way. Perhaps not as strongly as a demon¡¯s true name, but still formidable.


    After a moment of silence, Elanie said, ¡°Didn¡¯t your family ever tell you that this name shouldn¡¯t be spoken freely?¡±


    ¡°Are you talking about my true name?¡± Gordon smiled. ¡°When I was young, my mother told me true names shouldn¡¯t be shared with others. If you have one, there can only be one.¡±


    So, he knew everything.


    Elanie suddenly didn¡¯t know what to say. She found everything about this man, and everything related to him, absurd, yet so real. Between illusion and reality, there was something that touched her heart¡ªa selfless, unconditional willingness to give. What Gordon said, about being willing to die for her, was not an idle boast. It was a genuine promise. By telling her his true name, he had essentially given his life to her. But how could a man be so foolish?


    ¡°So what do you want to do in the future? Keep being an adventurer?¡±


    ¡°Of course not! I¡¯ll build my own army, conquer foreign lands, expand my territory, and establish my own kingdom!¡± Gordon said with a bold and commanding air, like a general who had led thousands into battle.


    Elanie didn¡¯t reply. She simply stared at the flickering flames. The firelight cast fleeting shadows on her face, and it revealed a faint sadness between her brows.


    Clouds drifted across the sky, quietly obscuring the three moons. The night grew darker.


    Suddenly, Elanie stood up. ¡°I¡¯m leaving.¡±


    Gordon was stunned. ¡°Leaving? Where are you going?¡±


    ¡°To where I¡¯m supposed to be,¡± Elanie replied without stopping, heading straight for the cave entrance.


    ¡°What about us, then...?¡±


    ¡°There is no us.¡± Elanie¡¯s voice echoed faintly as she disappeared into the vast darkness. Gordon stood there, stunned, not following. He had just lost a heart and couldn¡¯t possibly catch up to a level-five mage who had regained her magic, especially since Elanie also possessed a mysterious power that wasn¡¯t characteristic of a mage.


    Gordon sat down dejectedly, gripping his hair tightly. After a moment, he suddenly burst into laughter. ¡°It¡¯s fine, after all, people from the Ackmond family always go crazy. ¡®If you don¡¯t go mad in the frenzy, you¡¯ll die in silence.¡¯ Huh, who was that idiot who said that?¡±


    In the stillness of the night, Gordon¡¯s laughter echoed far and wide.


    The campfire still burned, and the rabbit roasting above had long since turned to charcoal.


    Time continued to slip by relentlessly, and five years passed quickly, like sand through fingers.


    When the sixth spring arrived, the Evernight Forest was no longer peaceful. Human armies had begun to push in from the outskirts of the forest, advancing deeper with each layer. Under the destructive power of weapons and magic, the lush, beautiful scenery was disappearing rapidly, with towering ancient trees being felled in massive numbers, and the peaceful beasts that had lived there for years were forced to abandon their nests and flee in panic. Among them were some very powerful creatures, but no matter how strong they were, they could not stand against the human construct knights.


    The Evernight Forest was the traditional domain of the Silvermoon Elves, who, descendants of the ancient high elves, had always driven out any invaders. They had repelled countless human armies attempting to seize the forest''s riches, sending many greedy invaders home in defeat.


    But this invasion was different from the others. The commander was a war genius the elves had never encountered before, and the army included a squad of fifty construct knights. In battle, the elves'' expertise in guerrilla warfare and their unrivaled archers could no longer maintain their overwhelming advantage. The divisions between the various elven tribes led to a fatal dispersal of their forces. The mightiest of the Silvermoon Elf tribes were defeated one after another, and more than half of the twelve great elven kings perished. Despite the elves'' heroic sacrifices, the human forces, fierce and relentless, swept through the forest and pressed on toward the elven capital.


    At the foot of the elven palace, the remaining Silvermoon Elves made their last stand, but it was in vain. The entire alliance of elven tribes was annihilated, and after over a thousand years, the Silvermoon Elves'' palace finally fell.


    Deep in the Evernight Forest, a small group of elves was running swiftly, blending with the trees so perfectly that they only left behind fleeting shadows. The forest, once serene, now echoed with the sounds of thundering hooves and the bloodthirsty battle cries of human soldiers. Flames raged through the trees, mercilessly consuming them and clearing a path for the advancing cavalry. It was clear from the elves'' panic that this was no longer the forest they had known. Riders would occasionally leap out ahead, blocking their path.


    In the distance, the World Tree was burning fiercely, the flames lighting up half the sky.


    The elves were protecting a young priestess, and whenever an enemy attempted to intercept them, a few warriors would charge forward, sacrificing themselves to cover her retreat. Powerful elven warriors fell one by one, but the relentless construct knights kept coming.


    The young priestess held a golden, heavy book in her arms¡ªthis was the Holy Scripture of the Moon Goddess Elucia, the most sacred relic of the Silvermoon Elves. She ran with the speed of an elven warrior, showing no signs of being a spellcaster. After breaking through several enemy lines, only two warriors remained by her side.


    Suddenly, they reached an open space, revealing a tranquil lake. Moonstar Lake, a gem of the Evernight Forest, but now, a knight stood silently at the water¡¯s edge, blocking their path. The air was thick with the murderous aura, disturbing the peaceful land. If one could see beneath the water, they would notice that the creatures of the lake had ceased all movement, deeply hiding at the bottom of the water.


    Though there was only one knight, his imposing figure stood like an insurmountable mountain. The black warhorse beneath him was half again as tall as a regular warhorse, and its armor was thick enough to astonish anyone. Despite its massive size, it seemed indifferent, occasionally letting out a small puff of flame from its nostrils. The knight wielded a massive sword, the three-meter-long blade radiating a chilling light, with blood dripping from the tip¡ªclearly, the blood of elves.


    The priestess halted, but the warriors by her side charged forward. With a leap, they attacked the knight on horseback, aiming to drive their elven longswords into his chest, oblivious to the heavy sword swinging toward them. A deafening laugh came from beneath the knight¡¯s helm, and the blade swept through the air like lightning, cutting through their ranks.


    The knight, clearly possessing beast-like blood, dismounted from his warhorse and walked toward the priestess, laughing as he spoke: ¡°Noble and beautiful Moon Goddess priestess, you are one of the most important figures of the Elven Kingdom. If you escape with the Holy Scripture, it will diminish my victory in capturing the Elven Kingdom. Do you think I¡¯ll let that happen? This is my first time commanding an army!¡±


    By the time he finished speaking, the bodies of two elven warriors fell to the ground. They were the most elite Silvermoon warriors but couldn¡¯t stop the knight¡¯s blow.


    The priestess trembled and suddenly clenched her teeth. ¡°Gordon!?¡±


    The knight¡¯s body stiffened, as if turned to stone. He threw off his helm, revealing a face as hard as iron, sharp with the marks of age and battle. It was Gordon, whose five years of adventures had left barely a mark on his face, save for the loss of youthful recklessness, replaced with a steady resolve. The adventurer of five years ago was now a general leading thousands of soldiers, having accomplished what no human in this world had done for millennia.


    Only his eyes remained unchanged, as pure and clear as they had been five years ago.


    Gordon stared at the priestess for a long while. Then, his face lit up with pure joy, and he shouted, ¡°You¡¯re... Elanie!¡±


    Standing before Gordon was the stunning Moon Goddess priestess, no longer the ordinary-looking human mage from years ago. But Gordon knew, despite the complete change in her appearance, she was still Elanie. Her eyes, the same eyes, had never changed. Back then, a level-three warrior could not comprehend the secret shape-shifting magic of the Elven Kingdom.


    Gordon¡¯s joy began to fade, replaced by bitterness, and he spoke slowly, ¡°So, you¡¯re a Silvermoon Elf, a priestess of the Moon Goddess. No wonder your magic was so powerful back then.¡±


    He stared at Elanie for a long time before breaking into a wide grin. ¡°Hi, girl! You¡¯re beautiful, much more beautiful than the perfect woman I imagined. But I still prefer you as the mage you were.¡±


    Hearing that familiar laugh, Elanie felt as if she had returned to five years ago. But the weight and coldness of the Holy Scripture in her hands brought her back to reality. As the Moon Goddess priestess, she had to maintain flawless purity.


    Elanie held up the Holy Scripture and coldly said, ¡°Gordon, your hands are stained with too much Silvermoon Elven blood. Today, only one of us can leave this place alive!¡±


    Gordon rubbed his nose and smiled wryly. ¡°You... aren¡¯t my match...¡± He didn¡¯t finish his sentence, because Elanie had already charged forward with a speed matching that of the elven warriors, her Holy Scripture glowing brilliantly, its cover opening!


    As the elves charged forward without hesitation, Gordon¡¯s massive two-handed sword soared through the air with a whistle, slashing horizontally with unbelievable speed. If this blow landed, it wouldn¡¯t just cleave the frail Silvermoon Elves in two¡ªit could split even a giant ogre in half. Five years had passed, and the once-level-three warrior had grown into someone whose strength was beyond measure.


    The shadow of death hovered above them, yet Elanie was oblivious. As she surged forward, memories of their encounter five years ago replayed before her eyes.


    In front of a flickering campfire, she had once asked, "What if I told you to die?"


    "If necessary, I wouldn''t hesitate," Gordon had replied.


    Five years had passed, and Gordon¡¯s appearance had not changed. He had truly become a general, commanding thousands of soldiers. But why... Why was his army heading towards the Evernight Forest?


    Elanie suddenly smiled. The tip of the heavy sword expanded within her pupils. She didn¡¯t dodge; instead, she swiftly drew a dagger from the Holy Scripture, accelerating even faster, leaving a trail of afterimages, and aimed straight for Gordon''s chest. She remembered that night when she had felt his heartbeat, and from that, she had memorized the position of his second heart.


    Elanie knew this strike would be unavoidable for Gordon. This was the Silvermoon Elves'' ultimate fighting technique, the Secret Sword: Moonlight Slash. She was the Moon Goddess¡¯s priestess, and her swordsmanship surpassed even magic and divine arts. Blessed by the Moon Goddess, Elucia, her strike would pierce through any armor, even that of the strongest construct knights.


    The dagger, imbued with Moonlight, flew through the air¡ªnever to return.


    But as her dagger rushed forward, Elanie¡¯s mind involuntarily conjured an image of Gordon¡¯s chest, the deep wound that had been there. Five years ago, he had lost his first heart to save her. And now, she was about to strike his second heart.


    For Gordon¡¯s heavy sword, she had no intention of evading, nor could she evade. She only hoped that she could drive the dagger into his heart before his sword cleaved her in half, making him pay the price for the lives lost in the flames and the Silvermoon Elves.


    Let us stay here, together, in this forest... she thought.


    The dagger, glowing with Moonlight, easily cut through the heavy armor and drove deep into his chest, piercing the pulsing heart, its power crushing the heart completely.


    But the sword stopped without warning, its tip pressing against her skin but no further. The hand that held the sword was as steady as a mountain.


    Gordon stared at Elanie, his mouth opening as if to speak, but no sound came out. Yet he smiled.


    The heavy sword slowly fell to the ground, and Gordon''s towering figure leaned forward, collapsing into Elanie''s arms. The hot blood pouring from his chest quickly soaked her half, just as it had five years ago.


    "You..." Elanie could no longer speak, her vision blurring, her body washed by the warm blood.


    "Being foolish isn¡¯t the problem, the worst is not meeting someone who makes you foolish." The words Gordon had once spoken to her rang clearly in her ears.


    The Holy Scripture quietly fell from her hands, and she clutched Gordon tightly as his body grew colder in her embrace.


    "You won¡¯t die... you won¡¯t!" Elanie whispered, holding him close.


    What followed was seven days between dream and reality. After seven days, Gordon slowly opened his eyes. He lay in a cave, his chest wound healed. There was no heartbeat in his chest, but his vitality surged as it always had. He turned his head slowly and saw the priestess''s robe scattered on the ground. The robe was stained with his hot blood. The blood had long since dried, but the fragrance of Elanie¡¯s scent still lingered. Faint and sweet, it not only clung to the robe but also to him.


    The fragrance lingered, but the vision of Elanie''s beauty was gone. The days of affection, springtime, and closeness were like a fleeting spring dream¡ªpassing without a trace.


    This time, there was truly no "after."

 Chapter One: Growth

    Spring.


    It is a season that brings joy, a time when, after the long, cold winter, people can finally begin a new year. No longer must they endure the biting cold, food is easier to find, and the variety slowly becomes richer. So, when winter gives way to spring, it is the most important celebration of the year, not just for humans but for dwarves, orcs, elves, and even ogres. Spring is a time for their most significant festivals. Of course, the world is so complex that there are always exceptions. Take the denizens of the underground world, for example; spring holds little meaning for them. Exceptions can go to extremes, such as with the snow spirits, a race that despises spring above all else. No matter what, for most humans, spring is a season of happiness.


    When the warm, humid air struggled over the Coastal Mountain Range and finally reached the village of Rutherlan, the villagers knew that spring had arrived.


    Rutherlan is located at the foot of the Coastal Mountain Range, a small dot in the vast expanse of these towering mountains, and one of the thousands of human settlements. It falls under the jurisdiction of Baron Tak and is part of the Holy Alliance Empire''s territory. Yet, even by straight-line distance, the Baron¡¯s castle is nearly 300 kilometers away. The villagers only see the Baron¡¯s tax collectors during the autumn harvest. It is only then that the Baron¡¯s presence is even slightly felt. The Baron¡¯s taxes are light, mostly just taking some of the unique local produce, which doesn¡¯t affect the villagers'' daily lives much. However, the village¡¯s output is limited, and if the taxes were any higher, it would soon become a matter of survival.


    Life in the mountains isn¡¯t particularly difficult; as long as one works hard throughout the year, it¡¯s manageable.


    With the arrival of spring, the land outside the village needs to be plowed and sown with crops that can be harvested in the summer. The hunters begin to enter the forest, where the beasts that had been dormant through the long winter start to wake up, hungry and searching for food. These creatures are dangerous and highly aggressive. However, some of the monsters'' unique traits¡ªsuch as glands that can be used for valuable medicinal herbs or spices¡ªare most potent during this season, fetching the highest prices. Every year, hunters are injured or killed, but they always venture into the forest as usual. Therefore, in Rutherlan village, the forest and the hunting goddess receive the most reverence, for aside from the Eternal Dragon, the gods and their respective faiths across the continent of Norland are as numerous as the stars in the sky.


    The continent of Norland is a land rich in resources, where strength is revered, and the social structure is strictly hierarchical.


    Even a remote and tranquil village like Rutherlan carries the marks of its age. The villagers are honest and sincere but equally respect the strong and look down upon the weak. In this small village of only a few dozen households, there is an unspoken hierarchy.


    A small figure appeared outside the village¡ª a boy, carrying a basket nearly as tall as himself, filled with breadfruit. In the spring, the winter¡¯s stockpiled food has been mostly consumed, and the new crops haven¡¯t yet been harvested. These not-so-tasty fruits are important sustenance. They are easy to find, simply needing to be collected from the nearby woods.


    Behind the boy, three older boys, each a head taller than him, appeared. They carried hunting bows and short forks, with knives strapped to their waists and prey like deer and rabbits slung over their backs. Though still under ten years old, they were already hunting in the mountains. Their targets were not the magical beasts but tame animals, caught mostly through traps. Nevertheless, this was no small feat. In the towns, common folk and noble children alike were still learning and training under the protection of their parents.


    The boy leading the group suddenly called out, "Hey, Richard! Where¡¯s your father? Didn¡¯t he teach you how to hunt? When I was your age, I could already go into the mountains to set traps for rabbits!"


    Another boy beside him laughed and added, "A fatherless child only knows how to pick fruit!"


    The three boys laughed heartily and skipped ahead, heading toward the village, their steps light, and it was hard to tell that they were each carrying dozens of kilos of game. The little boy didn¡¯t pay any attention to their teasing and continued walking toward the village, his basket still on his back. A middle-aged man sitting at the village entrance had seen everything and waved the boy over. He handed him a piece of dried magical beast meat and lovingly ruffled his hair, asking, ¡°Little Richard, aren¡¯t you upset that Piru and the others are bullying you? I¡¯ll go teach them a lesson. Even if they¡¯re just kids, they shouldn¡¯t speak like that.¡±


    To the man¡¯s surprise, the boy shook his head and replied, ¡°It¡¯s fine. I¡¯m not angry.¡±


    ¡°But...¡± The man scratched his rough, tanned head in confusion. He thought maybe the boy was simply afraid of the older boys and was about to speak up when he was interrupted.


    Richard smiled and said, ¡°I may not have a dad, but I have the best mom!¡±


    The man smiled dumbly and nodded, ¡°That¡¯s right, that¡¯s right.¡±


    Singing a tune, little Richard skipped merrily to the village. At that moment, any lingering gloom in his heart vanished, replaced by happiness. His mother had told him that no matter what, he should always strive to be happy.


    That year, Richard was six. At the age of six, he learned how to be happy.


    The middle-aged man was named Bobby, the village blacksmith, while Richard¡¯s mother, rumored to be a magic apprentice, had come to Rutherlan alone, with baby Richard still in her arms. She wasn¡¯t particularly beautiful, but she was gentle like water. Her arrival brought a new breeze to the small village. For the first time, Rutherlan had a doctor, and people no longer had to travel dozens of kilometers to the town for a simple illness or, worse yet, endure it until it healed on its own. Her name was Ilene, and she opened a small apothecary shop on the edge of the village. Though she could only make basic potions, in her first year, she had saved more than one villager¡¯s life. So, the village chief and elders decided to grant her a plot of land and formally accept her as part of the village. Rutherlan was a small village, but there were only three professions: the blacksmith, the doctor Ilene, and the retired officer who served as the village chief. These three supported the entire village¡¯s daily life.


    Life in Rutherlan was slow and peaceful. Time passed unnoticed, and before long, another spring arrived.


    Richard had grown by another ten centimeters, now looking more like an eight- or nine-year-old. According to Rutherlan¡¯s traditions, he was now supposed to learn how to make and set traps to catch rabbits and other herbivorous magical beasts. Not far from the village was a forest teeming with small magical beasts, while large ones were rarely seen. It was the area where children learned, and hunters never caught animals there but would regularly patrol it to remove any dangerous large beasts that wandered in. Every few days, Richard would still carry his basket up the mountain. The basket no longer looked too awkward on his back, signaling that he was still picking fruit. Breadfruit wasn¡¯t tasty, and the villagers preferred magical beast meat, which not only tasted better but also made them stronger.


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    But Richard still had to pick fruit before the age of hunting¡ªhis mother¡¯s rule. Not only that, but he also had to collect medicinal herbs¡ªfour kinds for each season¡ªand process them according to a specific, complicated routine. Half of the processing needed to be done when the herbs were picked, and the other half after returning home. What he didn¡¯t understand was why breadfruit had to go through a similar process, which took much more time and effort. In the village, no one else did this; breadfruit was the easiest food to find, and once ripe, it would naturally fall to the ground, ready to eat. But his mother insisted that the fruit should never be picked from the ground, but rather plucked directly from the tree, with specific size, color, and picking techniques required. Richard didn¡¯t understand why, nor did he notice any difference in taste, but every time he picked it wrong, his mother would pick it out and scold him. After several reprimands, Richard stopped trying to play tricks and followed the steps carefully. It wasn¡¯t until winter, when no more breadfruit could be picked, that his mother explained it was to teach him perseverance.


    That year, Richard was seven. At the age of seven, he learned the importance of perseverance. If there was any unpleasant memory from this year, it was that every dinner consisted of breadfruit. This small matter eventually became one of the haunting memories of his childhood.


    With the arrival of the new spring, Rutherlan was the same as always. Bobby, the blacksmith, was still single, Ilene¡¯s apothecary shop had seen little success, and the village chief was still strong, charging to the front whenever a dangerous magical beast appeared.


    Richard finally began to learn how to set traps. Meanwhile, Piru and his group had already begun carrying short bows and joined the village hunters in the mountains. After crossing the threshold of ten years old, they could now be called young boys. With their tall, muscular frames, they would be mistaken for fifteen or sixteen-year-olds in a city.


    Setting traps was an art that required plenty of experience, keen eyes, nimble hands, and a bit of luck. With only basic tools, beginners were at risk of injuring themselves while setting traps unless they had the experience of seasoned hunters. Richard had a natural talent for learning, and he immediately outshone the other boys in the village, setting his first successful trap on the very first day, earning praise from the adults in the village. Bobby, the blacksmith, was so proud he would tell everyone that Richard was like his own son. Everyone in the village knew that Bobby would gladly close his blacksmith shop if Richard called him ¡°father.¡±


    A few days passed, and Richard had mastered several types of traps. He ventured deeper into the reserve area, setting up a few large composite traps, hoping for his luck. Richard¡¯s luck was good. A Kamchatka wild boar appeared in his sight, and it charged straight into one of his traps. The snare, made from thorns, vines, and iron spikes, securely caught its front leg. Although the wild boar was strong, Richard¡¯s trap had been well crafted, and after a few wild struggles, the boar was still trapped.


    Hidden nearby, Richard watched nervously, sweating in his palms. The hunting knife in his hand felt less reliable than before. An injured wild boar was dangerous, though the Kamchatka wild boar was small and timid. Still, he was just a child.


    Just as Richard prepared to rush out, a sudden force from behind shoved him hard, sending him sprawling. He crashed to the ground, feeling dizzy, with the stench of blood in his nose. He heard the twang of a bowstring and then the wild boar¡¯s agonized screams. Cheers rang out nearby, and the voices were familiar.


    Richard slowly got up, seeing Piru and three other boys, who had somehow appeared. One of them had shoved him out of the way. Piru, holding a hunting bow, stood proudly over the wild boar, a single arrow embedded in its neck. To hit the vital spot with one shot was no easy feat, even if the boar had been trapped. The boar had been thrashing wildly.


    ¡°You stole my prey!¡± Richard shouted in anger as he finally realized their intentions.


    "Everyone here can vouch that I killed this boar. How is it stealing? Just because you set a trap? Any good hunter knows that traps like this are only for catching rabbits," Piru said slowly, his eyes full of disdain as he looked at Richard.


    He was nearly a head taller than Richard and much stronger. His strength was greater than his peers, almost on par with an adult. This was because Piru was the village chief¡¯s son, and the chief often brought back powerful magical beasts from the mountains. The meat of these beasts was beneficial for building a strong body.


    ¡°Then why did you come here to shoot a wild boar?¡± Richard¡¯s retort left Piru speechless. They looked down on Richard for being thin, but they had to admit that Richard was quite clever¡ªhe could even write many words. But Piru and his gang didn¡¯t respect him for that. Knowing how to write didn¡¯t help with hunting, so what use were those words?


    Richard¡¯s question made Piru angry, and he slapped his hand angrily. One of the boys circled around behind Richard and shoved him forcefully to the ground.


    Richard got up, his face flushed red. He gripped his hunting knife tightly, and the sudden surge of energy in his body made the other boys feel an inexplicable chill! But the knife stayed sheathed. In the time it took for hesitation to pass, Piru kicked him in the stomach, and the boys swarmed on him, taking his knife and beating him with punches and kicks. Piru even stamped his foot on Richard¡¯s head, pressing his face deep into the dirt!


    The boys from the mountains were strong, and the beating was heavy. Richard didn¡¯t struggle or cry out. He simply endured it in silence. The more Piru beat him, the angrier he became, feeling only disdain from Richard¡¯s silent response.


    ¡°Still not willing to admit defeat?¡± The boys hit him harder and harder, and Richard lay there as if his body no longer belonged to him, simply taking the beating. It didn¡¯t take long before Piru started to worry. He feared he might have injured Richard too severely, and when he returned home, he¡¯d be in for a severe punishment. The village chief¡¯s temper was as fiery as his strength, and Ilene had a good reputation in the village.


    The boys slowly stopped, and Richard lay motionless for a while before finally struggling to get up. Piru threw a few harsh words at him before grabbing the wild boar and leaving. Once they were out of sight, Richard sat down under a tree, resting for a long time before standing up and walking home.


    That night, Ilene looked at the bruised Richard, tears streaming down her face, but the boy comforted her, saying it wasn¡¯t much, just a little pain. After applying the medicine, the boy looked up at his mother and asked, ¡°Can¡¯t I fight back yet?¡±


    ¡°Hmm!¡± Ilene nodded firmly, biting her teeth.


    ¡°Okay, I won¡¯t fight back, but I won¡¯t submit.¡±


    In the days that followed, Piru found trouble with Richard a few more times, and it always ended with a harsh beating. But the worst one came when, after all the boys had tired themselves out, Richard still hadn¡¯t given in. He didn¡¯t cry out or beg for mercy, just silently enduring it. Every time they grew tired and prepared to leave, Richard would slowly rise, watching Piru in silence. That quiet, composed gaze seemed to send a chill deep into Piru¡¯s heart, like he was staring at a dead man.


    From that year on, Piru began having nightmares. Every time he beat Richard, he would dream for days. Richard had never resisted, and Piru had grown stronger. The difference in their sizes continued to widen. But every time Piru looked at Richard, he saw that quiet, calm gaze, and then came the nightmares.


    Piru couldn¡¯t understand one thing: why hadn¡¯t Richard gone to his father to report the bullying? If Richard had done that, Piru would have surely gotten a few lashes. But Richard never told anyone in the village about the beatings.


    The number of times Piru and his gang bothered Richard gradually decreased. Then, one day, when Richard had blood on his lips but was smiling at them, the boys quickly scattered. That was the last time they troubled Richard.


    At eight years old, Richard learned resilience.

 Chapter Two: The Ceremony

    When the new spring arrived, little Richard had begun to shed his childishness. The hunting knife at his waist was no longer just an ornament. He had started going into the mountains with the village hunters, although he didn''t venture too deep into the forest and didn''t take the front lines when dealing with magical beasts. His tasks were more about assisting, setting traps, and collecting game. Still, it meant that he was now considered a hunter. Blacksmith Bobby was especially pleased, as Richard''s hunting knife had been crafted by him over several nights, using a few pieces of treasured forged steel. Every time Richard used it to kill a magical beast, Bobby would feel proud for a long time.


    Hunting always carries danger. Hidden within the sprawling Coastal Mountain Range are countless magical beasts, and sometimes even lost beasts from the deep forests wander into Rutherlan village. Little Richard once encountered a Grayfang Wolf. This was a true level-two magical beast, and even the village chief would have to approach it seriously. When Richard encountered the wolf, there were only two village hunters with him. It was a tough battle, and all three were seriously wounded, but in the end, they dragged the wolf¡¯s carcass back to the village. What impressed the villagers the most was how calm and composed Richard had been throughout the deadly fight. His responses were perfect¡ªno better than the best hunter. If not for Richard severing the wolf''s hind leg tendon with a single strike, the outcome could have been different.


    In any case, that year, Richard faced many dangers, but he always remained calm and collected, handling each situation with grace. No matter how perilous the situation, he never hesitated.


    At nine years old, Richard learned courage.


    This year should have been the easiest one yet, for mountain children are never lacking in courage. However, the kind of courage his mother taught him was different. Richard had achieved it, and from then on, his mother no longer called him "little Richard," but "my Richard."


    "My Richard has truly become a man!" Ilene would always smile and say this whenever she saw Richard.


    But one day, Richard stood tall and replied, "A real man must also have wisdom!"


    Ilene was taken aback, staring at Richard with a serious expression, and asked, "Tell me, who told you that?"


    "It¡¯s written in a book!"


    "Which book?" Ilene asked patiently. It wasn¡¯t just mages; even magic apprentices had vast knowledge. Richard had already learned several languages from Ilene, even an ancient, obscure language. Reading was no problem for him. He had even read through several beginner''s magic books during the dull, boring winters. However, Ilene couldn''t remember any book that had such a line.


    "That book in the attic. It has lots of interesting things in it. I first learned how vast the world is," Richard said excitedly.


    "That book?" Ilene suddenly remembered something and smiled. "That book is indeed very interesting. My Richard, a real man certainly cannot lack wisdom, but perseverance, strength, and courage are even rarer. My Richard is so smart that when he grows up, he will never lack wisdom. So, mommy wants to cultivate these qualities in you first, okay?"


    "And happiness!" Richard added quickly.


    Ilene smiled and ruffled Richard¡¯s hair. "Yes, happiness! My Richard, have you been happy these past few years?"


    Little Richard shook his head and muttered, "Not always happy. Piru bullied me. And I also dislike breadfruit. And, mom, what kind of person is dad?"


    Ilene¡¯s face instantly changed, then she gently replied, "Your father is a real man..."


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    Richard immediately interrupted, "I know! He¡¯s the worst bad guy! The person you hate the most!"


    Ilene smiled, as she always did when Richard asked such questions. He had asked these questions every year, and she always answered in the same way. Richard had memorized it by now. However, Richard was a clever child, and he could sense the deep hatred Ilene felt when she spoke about his father. Over time, Richard began to hate him too.


    Because many times, when Richard woke up in the middle of the night, he would hear his mother quietly crying.


    Children¡¯s logic is simple: their mother loves them the most, and she is the person they love the most. If their mother hates someone, they will hate that person too. From time to time, Richard would ask about his father, partly out of curiosity, because once he grew older, his mother would tell him more about his father. On the other hand, Richard wanted to know more about his father so that he could take revenge on him when he grew up. He didn¡¯t know how to get revenge at that age, but it was something he had already engraved in his heart.


    However, this time, Ilene didn¡¯t tell Richard more about his father. She simply said that she had been with Richard''s father for a very short time and only knew so much.


    "One day, you will understand your father," Ilene suddenly said, and when the words left her mouth, her expression changed as though something in her heart had tightened. She herself didn¡¯t understand why she had said that.


    Richard, sensing his mother¡¯s sudden shift in mood, quietly stuck out his tongue and said, "I¡¯m going to read," before running into the back room. That room was Ilene¡¯s study, next to it was the apothecary lab. The study wasn¡¯t full of books, but the ones there were about basic magic, potion making, and the geography, history, and customs of the continent¡ªsubjects fitting for an apprentice mage. Richard loved to read here during the evenings. There was a magic lamp in the study that didn¡¯t shine brightly, but with the little magic Ilene had, it could light up the lamp for an entire night. Because oil was expensive, only the village chief, the blacksmith, and a few of the strongest hunters could afford to keep lamps burning for long. Ilene was one of the few.


    In this humble yet warm little room, Richard quietly spent his childhood.


    In those thick books, he discovered another world, a world much larger, more complex, and more beautiful than Rutherlan. Little Richard always thought to himself that when he grew up to be the best hunter in the village, he would take his mother and leave Rutherlan, to see the world beyond the mountains.


    Ilene sat alone in the living room, the sound of pages turning quietly reaching her ears. Little Richard was reading carefully again. He had already mastered the basics of magic, though he hadn¡¯t started practicing magic yet. Ilene even forbade him from practicing meditation. On the continent, to become a good mage, one usually starts meditating around the age of four or five, so that by ten, they have enough mental strength to begin studying magic and developing their magical power. But Richard didn¡¯t think anything was wrong with this, as he didn¡¯t know much about it and thought his mother was always right.


    Ilene sat quietly, but because of that one extra sentence she had spoken tonight, the door to memories slowly opened, and many long-buried past events began to surface, hard to suppress.


    Her head began to hurt, and Ilene gently rubbed her temple, letting out a faint sigh. Her gaze fell on the calendar on the table, and she suddenly saw a conspicuous mark. In just a few days, Richard would be ten years old. Ten was the boundary between a boy and a young man, and thirteen or fourteen would mark the beginning of adulthood.


    Had ten years really passed already?


    Ilene stared blankly at the light dancing in the magic lamp. The brass lamp was polished to a bright sheen, reflecting her face. She wasn¡¯t particularly beautiful¡ªjust a woman of good looks¡ªbut in Rutherlan, she was considered one of the most beautiful. Ten years had passed, and time had left no visible trace on her face. If not for her clothes having shifted toward the style of a middle-aged woman, few would remember her age. If someone unfamiliar met her, they would likely think she was still in her early twenties.


    The reflection in the brass lamp was, in fact, quite unfamiliar to Ilene and too ordinary, because when she was born, it wasn¡¯t this face. A long time ago, she never imagined she would be living such a simple and hard life, and yet, she had been living this way for ten years. But looking at Richard grow up day by day, she felt deeply fulfilled.


    Ilene walked into the study and smiled as she watched Richard, who was engrossed in a thick magical beast encyclopedia, "My Richard is soon going to be ten years old. I¡¯ve prepared a special ceremony to celebrate my Richard growing up."


    "Yay! Will there be a gift?" Richard jumped up, showing that he was still a boy at heart.


    "Yes, a gift that will stay with you for your whole life. But you need to rest well these next few days, alright? It¡¯s already late, you should go to bed."

 Chapter Three: Enlightenment

    Richard nodded eagerly and ran back to his room. But with the excitement on his face, it was clear he would hardly be able to sleep tonight. Ilene shook her head with a smile, grabbed the magic lamp, and climbed up to the attic.


    The attic was normally used to store odds and ends, but it was meticulously cleaned. Ilene moved a chest aside, revealing a small altar behind it. The altar was made of stone, its base intricately etched with a complex magical array in delicate and precise strokes. However, the place where a statue should have been was now empty.


    Ilene carefully cleaned the altar, wiping away even the smallest speck of dust. Only then did she stand up, her gaze falling on a thick book casually placed beside the chest. This book was surprisingly thick, almost a thousand pages long, and the size of four ordinary magic books, weighing at least ten kilograms. The bronze-colored cover shimmered, immaculate and obviously well-read. Ilene paused for a moment; she hadn¡¯t touched it in a long time, so it was clear that Richard had been reading it. She didn¡¯t expect that the little one had read it so frequently and so intently.


    She walked over and opened it. Her fingers, long and graceful, were more beautiful than her looks, something the men in the village had commented on more than once.


    The cover of the book was made of actual bronze, heavy and cold, radiating the weight of the years. Ilene knew that within the bronze, scattered like stars, were hundreds of crystal particles. When these particles activated together, they formed a miniature altar, and if the user was devout and powerful enough, they could even use it to listen to the voice of the Moon Goddess Elucia!


    On the first page, there was a long poem written in beautiful ancient Elven script, praising the Moon Goddess Elucia. To this day, Ilene still remembered every syllable of the hymn. Ilene casually flipped through the pages, the textured sheets flowing through her fingers like water. The pages were filled with large sections of Elven writing and vibrant illustrations. Unlike human scriptures, the book contained very little doctrine of the Moon Goddess. Instead, it focused on the deeds of Elucia before she became a goddess. Therefore, in addition to the content of the Norland continent, the book also included stories from other continents, even from different planes. Little Richard had likely treated it as a vast geographical and cultural encyclopedia, which is why he found it so fascinating.


    This book, despite its sheer size, was the former most precious treasure of the Elven Court¡ªthe Holy Scripture of the Moon Goddess Elucia.


    The scripture also recorded the seven unique divine arts of the Moon Goddess, but only those recognized by the Goddess could see and use them. Back in her day, Elucia had mastered five of them. Apart from the great druids of the Elven Court, she was the priestess who had mastered the most divine arts, symbolizing both power and the Goddess¡¯s recognition. But now, even at great cost, the only divine art she could activate was one, and it relied on the power of the scripture itself.


    Seven divine arts flowed through her heart like water.


    "Elucia¡¯s Destiny" divine art: Enlightenment;


    "Elucia¡¯s Blessing" divine art: Healing;


    "Elucia¡¯s Wrath" divine art: Judgement;


    "Elucia¡¯s Sword" divine art: Silvermoon Armament;


    "Elucia¡¯s Will" divine art: Judgement.


    There were also two divine arts, one of which Elucia had never mastered: "Elucia¡¯s Heart" divine art: Foresight.


    And the seventh divine art, which was merely recorded in the scripture but never used by anyone: "Elucia¡¯s Confusion" divine art: The Dark Side of the Moon.


    Ilene placed her hand on the scripture, quietly feeling the lingering divine aura within it. The fifth moon hung high in the sky, and the cold moonlight filtered through the roof¡¯s skylight, casting a perfect beam onto her. The divine power hidden within the moonlight quietly seeped into her body, building up energy for the ritual that would take place in just a few days.


    The divine art: Enlightenment, was Richard¡¯s gift for his tenth birthday.


    On the day of Richard¡¯s birthday, still at midnight, he was called up, led to the attic, and made to kneel before the altar. The page of the scripture was already open to the designated section, and a few lines of prayers, which Richard had never seen before, appeared. The prayers were in ancient Elven, a complex and obscure language that Richard had mastered as fluently as the common tongue. The content of the prayer was still in praise and petition for the Moon Goddess, but as Richard silently recited it in his mind, he suddenly felt something strange. It seemed as though his body was becoming transparent, and somewhere deep within, something that had been aimlessly wandering around suddenly found its purpose and flew toward him, rushing into his body. Richard felt a cold current flowing into his chest and abdomen, swiftly spreading out to his limbs and lower stomach. The sensation lasted only an instant, though it was extraordinarily vivid. But strange sensations during divine or magical rituals were quite common, and many rituals even required enduring intense pain. So Richard said nothing, continuing to clear his mind as his mother had instructed.


    "My Richard, soon you will enter the hall of the Moon Goddess Elucia and receive the enlightenment about fate. You will most likely have two or three choices, and if you do, you can choose..." Ilene suddenly shook her head and changed her words, "My Richard, choose whatever you want, listen carefully to the Goddess''s voice, and then follow your heart¡¯s choice."


    Richard nodded, confused. As Ilene¡¯s soft prayers filled the air, his consciousness gradually faded, as if pulling away from the world before him.


    When he regained his senses, Richard found himself standing before an enormous, vast temple. He was in the center of a plaza that stretched for miles, and standing in it, Richard felt as small as an ant. The plaza was paved with silver-gray stone, gleaming with a faint, mysterious light. As he looked around, he was astonished to see an endless starry sky, the stars so close that they seemed within reach. The plaza and the temple seemed to float in the void of the stars.


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    The vast space overwhelmed Richard, and his heartbeat quickened. He could no longer bear to look around and immediately began running toward the temple. He ran for what felt like ages, crossing the entire plaza and climbing thousands of stone steps, finally arriving at the temple entrance. If not for the strength and endurance cultivated in the mountains, Richard would have collapsed long before. Once he started running, he dared not stop. The enormous plaza filled his entire field of vision, and the sparkling light shifted, as if the entire space were not static but moving according to some invisible rule. Richard had a strange sensation that if he paused for even a moment, the whole plaza would tilt, and without anything to grip on the glass-like surface, he would slide helplessly into an endless abyss.


    When he reached the temple¡¯s entrance, his heart was almost about to leap out of his chest, and breathing became laborious. It took him a long moment to recover, remembering his mother¡¯s instructions, and then he looked up at the temple.


    The temple had no dome; instead, it was surrounded by tall, white, jade-like stone pillars. In the center was an altar, and three faint statues of the Goddess stood around it. They were all posed differently, with varying distances between them. There should have been six statues around the altar, representing six different abilities. The more statues Richard could see, the more abilities he could awaken during the enlightenment.


    Richard, with his excellent memory, quickly recognized the abilities represented by the three statues. They were "Supernatural Power," which could grant tremendous strength; "Life Surge," which granted vitality and the ability to heal; and "Wind Speed," which enhanced speed and agility.


    Richard felt a little disappointed. Deep inside, he had already made a choice: it was "Wisdom," the ability to greatly enhance intelligence. Because a true man must have wisdom.


    But having three choices wasn¡¯t so bad. His mother only hoped for more than one option. Ilene had not told Richard that most people who received enlightenment saw nothing but an empty temple.


    Richard approached the altar, straining his eyes, hoping to see "Wisdom." But this temple, along with the starry sky, wasn¡¯t real. No matter how hard he tried, what could he possibly see? Instead, due to hesitation and doubt, the three statues began to blur.


    "Do you want more abilities?" A voice suddenly echoed in Richard¡¯s ears.


    Richard jumped in shock and looked around, but saw nothing. The voice was sudden, cold, and metallic, filled with an eerie, emotionless tone that terrified him.


    "Who... who are you?" Richard gathered his courage, his voice trembling. The sound reverberated throughout the hall, and the heavy echoes startled him.


    "Who I am doesn¡¯t matter, I will never appear again. Strictly speaking, I am the other half of you that is hidden deep within," the voice replied.


    "Impossible!" Richard shouted firmly. His mother had told him that his soul was pure and that there was nothing strange within him. But after conversing with the voice for a few moments, his initial fear began to fade. Mountain children were naturally brave, and his fear had simply been because he didn¡¯t know what was happening, caught off guard.


    However, the voice remained unaffected and spoke in the same unchanging tone. "Now, choose what you want to receive."


    Before Richard, the altar glowed again, and three new statues appeared! In addition to "Wisdom," there was "Elemental Affinity," which was crucial in the path of magic. This ability allowed mages to communicate with the elements more easily and cast spells with less energy consumption. To put it simply, mages with "Elemental Affinity" could have one to three additional spell slots compared to others of the same level. This was a terrifying ability that grew more powerful as one advanced. The other ability was "Nature¡¯s Messenger," which granted an intuitive and deep understanding of nature, enhanced stealth abilities, increased speed in complex terrain, and boosted the power of nature-based spells, along with greater resistance to poisons.


    Now, all six abilities were presented before Richard.


    "This... this..." Richard¡¯s mouth hung open, speechless. His mind was in chaos, unable to comprehend what was happening before him. The only reasonable explanation was that everything he was seeing was an illusion. Otherwise, how could this be? It was nothing like what he had read in books or heard from his mother.


    Richard finally remembered the purpose of his journey. Trembling, he reached out toward the statue representing "Wisdom." At the foot of the statue, towering at over ten meters, Richard could only reach the Goddess''s feet. This was also part of the ritual''s meaning¡ªstooping to touch the statue¡¯s feet represented humility. As Richard¡¯s hand touched the statue, he suddenly heard a crisp cracking sound in his mind, and the entire world seemed to become more real and vivid.


    "Wisdom allows people to see the world more clearly." This was a line from the scripture, and now Richard understood its meaning.


    As soon as Richard touched the Wisdom statue, all the other statues vanished. Normally, this would mark the end of the enlightenment ritual, but the temple didn¡¯t disappear.


    Confused, Richard looked around and suddenly saw a new statue emerge in front of the altar. This statue had its arms crossed over its chest, its face turned slightly to the side, and an expression both melancholic and focused. Unlike the other statues, this one had no texture and appeared to be made of shadows. Could this also be an ability? Richard racked his brain but couldn¡¯t remember what this statue represented. Even the scripture didn¡¯t mention such a form of the Moon Goddess, though it was indeed her statue.


    "Don¡¯t you want another ability?" The voice rang out again.


    "What is that ability?" Richard hesitated and spoke loudly, "I don¡¯t want to give up Wisdom."


    "You can call it Reality. It will allow you to see the world from another perspective, and at the end of this path, you may see something else."


    "Something else? What is it?" Richard asked, curious.


    The voice fell silent and did not respond.


    Richard realized that he could leave anytime he wished and return to the real world. This temple was just a world constructed by the ritual¡¯s power, designed to help those with talent see their abilities and choose their path. But on the other hand, this world wasn¡¯t completely illusory. The temple floating in the stars was filled with the Goddess''s divine power, and obtaining all six abilities was only possible with the Moon Goddess Elucia''s favor.


    However, the voice in Richard¡¯s mind, along with the seventh statue that had never been mentioned in the scripture, completely shattered his understanding. Richard suddenly had a feeling that... this seemed like the devil¡¯s temptation. But how could the devil¡¯s power appear in the sacred ritual of the Moon Goddess?


    Looking at the seventh statue, Richard hesitated. Two conflicting voices argued fiercely in his mind. Take it, or not?


    Richard hesitated, but eventually, he took a step forward and reached out for the seventh statue. "The world is balanced, and every gain has its price." Richard remembered this teaching from the scripture, and balance was one of Elucia¡¯s core teachings. So, if he gained a second ability, what would he have to give up?


    For the first time, Richard felt lost and conflicted, but in the end, he reached out for the statue. His mother had said he could choose based on his own will, and he wasn¡¯t willing to give up this opportunity. He was prepared to pay the price. Little Richard was brave¡ªhe was willing to fight for an unexpected gain. And he was smart¡ªhe knew that deep inside, his mother hoped for him to become a hero, someone truly important.


    At the very least, someone more important than Baron Tack.

 Chapter Four: Reality

    The moment his small hand touched the seventh statue, it suddenly transformed into a mass of shadows, all of which entered Richard''s body. In that instant, Richard felt as though his head was on fire, his brain boiling with agony. The pain, directly affecting his soul, almost drove him insane, but he could not pass out. At the same time, icy currents spread throughout his body, clashing violently with the intangible heat enveloping him, making him feel as though every bone and muscle in his body was fracturing!


    Richard gritted his teeth and endured. The resilience and stubbornness he had cultivated since childhood manifested at this moment, and he managed to hold on until all the shadows had entered his body. When the last strand of shadow was absorbed, his mind finally relaxed, and his vision blurred. The goddess¡¯s temple gradually faded from his sight.


    In the blurred vision, Richard saw his mother¡¯s beautiful and concerned face. He finally let go of his tension and lost consciousness.


    "I¡¯ve gained two abilities. Mother will be proud of me," Richard thought subconsciously as he drifted in the darkness.


    In the attic, a clear crack appeared on the Moon Goddess¡¯s altar. This rare altar had been damaged during the ritual. Ilene¡¯s face went pale, a trickle of blood staining her lips. She didn¡¯t notice, too focused on checking Richard¡¯s body. When she confirmed that he was unharmed and his body was intact, she felt a bit of relief. However, when she saw a small patch of shadow hovering in the center of Richard¡¯s forehead, her face changed once again.


    There was light from the lamp and moonlight in the attic, yet neither of these light sources could cast a shadow on Richard¡¯s forehead. The shadow, like mist or smoke, moved slowly, yet it was unable to dissipate. To ordinary people, it would have been invisible, but Ilene, still carrying the power of the Fifth Crescent Moon, could see it. She trembled as she reached out to touch it. Her fingertip felt a faint coldness and a prickling pain¡ªan indication of the conflict between the shadow¡¯s energy and the power of Elucia.


    ¡°Shadow creature?!¡± Ilene gasped. She gritted her teeth and thrust her finger into the shadow on Richard¡¯s forehead, silently reciting a prayer she hadn¡¯t uttered in years. It was the divine art of Foresight, a power she had never mastered. But in this moment, her heart was in turmoil. Only this divine art could possibly explain the shadow lingering at Richard¡¯s brow. Even if the hope was slim, she had to try.


    Since losing her position as High Priestess, she had lost the Goddess¡¯s favor and all of her divine arts. It had been a desperate act, a random gesture, but Ilene didn¡¯t expect that Foresight would succeed against the odds.


    A vision unfolded before Ilene¡¯s eyes¡ªa scene of endless void and darkness, filled with chaotic energy. There was no moon, no stars. In the chaos, large shadows moved slowly, their seemingly random trajectories eventually converging on a single point, targeting one clear destination: little Richard!


    The vision flickered and vanished in an instant, and the brief glimpse of Foresight drained all of Ilene¡¯s strength, leaving her too weak to move even a finger. Even with her full physical strength, what she had seen filled her with an overwhelming sense of despair.


    The shadows were not the same as darkness; they were an intangible energy, inherently spatial in nature. Shadow creatures came in countless varieties, most wandering between planes aimlessly, feeding on the chaotic energy that existed between them. They were cunning, dangerous, and powerful¡ªcreatures both feared and coveted by mages. Shadow summoning was a highly developed spell, capable of being enhanced from level six up to level nine. However, there was always a small chance of failure, in which case the summoned shadow creature would become uncontrollable, and mages with magic would become their prime prey. This was why incidents of mages being devoured by summoned shadow creatures occurred every year across the continent.


    The shadow on Richard¡¯s forehead showed signs of life, but it was not a complete living being. The shadow¡¯s energy was not strong, and even an ordinary priest could purify it. In fact, its role was akin to that of a lighthouse, marking a position in the vast, complex multiverse, calling forth large numbers of shadow creatures into this plane. This was the very scene Ilene had seen in her vision. Now, even if the shadow was purified, it was too late¡ªthe terrifying shadow creatures had already received their coordinates and were on their way.


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    And little Richard was the anchor and the coordinate for their entry into this world.


    When the shadow creatures began to invade the plane, Richard faced two possible outcomes: either he would be destroyed in the violent clash of energies, or he would be possessed by the strongest of the shadow creatures, losing control of his body forever. At that point, he would become a vessel for the shadow creatures.


    The laws between planes were unpredictable. The shadow creatures might take centuries to complete their journey, or they might arrive within a month.


    ¡°How could this happen¡­¡± Ilene muttered, holding Richard tightly in her arms, tears falling uncontrollably.


    She suddenly looked up, gazing through the skylight at the Fifth Crescent Moon still hanging high in the sky. She saw that the moon¡¯s surface now bore a mark, like a dried bloodstain. It was the mutated energy of the Crescent Moon that had caused the disruption in the Enlightenment ritual. But if she were still Elucia¡¯s High Priestess, this ritual wouldn¡¯t have been altered.


    Was this Elucia¡¯s punishment?


    Ilene bitterly thought to herself, completely lacking the strength to complain about her fate or wallow in self-pity. She gently laid Richard on the bed, covering him with a blanket. In his sleep, Richard furrowed his brows slightly, yet he smiled frequently, clearly dreaming of many happy things. He was a very handsome boy, his childish features beginning to fade and already showing some handsome traits. Ilene quietly gazed at her child, the focal point of her life for the past ten years. Though ten years was a short time to someone like her, it felt like an entire lifetime. Little Richard was growing fast, though still a bit immature compared to other boys his age. This was only because of his bloodline. With half Silvermoon Elf blood, Richard also possessed nearly five hundred years of natural life. His appearance blended the rugged strength of humans with the delicate beauty of Silvermoon Elves. Only Ilene knew why.


    On Richard¡¯s small face, the tiny shadow continued to swirl and play.


    Ilene sighed softly and kissed Richard¡¯s forehead before leaving the room. She sat alone in the living room, gazing at the night sky, while memories flowed through her mind like water. Those few nights had condensed the intensity, hatred, and passion of her entire life! And now, she was forced to relive them.


    Outside, the blood-streaked Fifth Crescent Moon slowly drifted away, and the Sixth Crescent Moon, shining with a unique golden light, rose in its place. When the Seventh Crescent Moon appeared over the horizon, the day would soon break.


    The light from the Seventh Crescent Moon finally poured through the window, illuminating Ilene¡¯s face. She had aged considerably, but her beauty had grown even more striking. The mirror on the wall reflected an incredibly beautiful figure. This was her true form¡ªthe one that only Silvermoon Elves could possess.


    She stood up carefully, took out a piece of magical paper adorned with star-like patterns, and spread it across the table. Then, she took out a sealed magical pen, checked it, and found that the ink, made from griffon tail feathers, was still intact. This ink was crafted from unicorn blood, and though there were only a few drops left, it would be enough for the letter she had to write.


    But the once-light pen now felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds in her hand. After holding it for a long time, she still couldn¡¯t bring herself to write a single word. When the first rays of sunlight shone through the window, she smiled faintly and muttered to herself, ¡°The one who could destroy the Elven Court should be able to handle the shadow creatures. Besides, it¡¯s been ten years¡­¡±


    Finally convincing herself, she began to draw a delicate magical array at the top of the starry-patterned paper, then wrote a long name:


    Gordon Isaiah Satanistoia Akmond¡­


    The moment the name was finished, the pen trembled. The entire name began to glow, emitting a faint red light, like burning flames. When the flames extinguished, the long name was left as a faint, almost invisible mark. The mark, though faint, was deeply imprinted on the magical paper, and it would only disappear if the paper itself was destroyed.


    As a former High Priestess, she understood the secrets of bloodlines very well. The burning flames meant that the name she had written had activated the laws, and the owner of the name could sense it. From now on, everything she wrote would transcend space and time, directly reaching its recipient.


    The pen hovered in midair once more, and the hand holding it trembled gently. The earlier signs confirmed a fact: this was indeed Gordon¡¯s true name. Although she had never doubted it, this was the first time it was confirmed. With this knowledge of his true name, she could curse him with just a small amount of magic, and even though Gordon had become a legendary figure, he would be powerless to resist the curse. The true name was one of the most important secrets of certain bloodlines.


    This guy actually gave his true name so casually¡­


    She couldn¡¯t help but think, but her brief reflection was soon overtaken by memories of a burning, collapsing forest. Her hand grew cold, but it no longer trembled. She wrote a few short lines, then paused, and with elegant strokes, signed her name:


    Ilani Moonsong.


    The magical paper burned fiercely, turning to ashes in an instant, and the information it carried was transmitted through the ancient and mysterious laws, reaching its distant destination.


    When she set down the pen, Ilani also set down all her sorrow, becoming calm and beautiful once more.

 Chapter Five: Farewell

    Little Richard slept for a full seven days, and when the sunlight from the seventh day finally streamed into the bedroom, he opened his eyes. The first thing he did upon waking was rush out of his room, frantically searching for his mother. When he saw her in the study, Richard immediately ran up to her, shouting, "Mom, guess what I got in the Moon Goddess¡¯s temple?"


    Ilani turned around, gently stroking Richard¡¯s head, and asked, ¡°Let me guess, my Richard always wanted to become a mage, so you must have gotten ¡®Elemental Affinity,¡¯ right?¡±


    Richard suddenly froze, because the woman in front of him was someone he had never seen before. But he had his own way of recognizing things¡ªhe took a deep breath, and the scent that filled his nose was incredibly familiar and comforting. Hesitantly, he asked, ¡°You¡¯re... Mom?¡±


    ¡°My Richard, this is what your mom really looks like. How do I look?¡± Ilani smiled as she asked.


    Little Richard nodded vigorously and said, "Mom is the most beautiful!" In his eyes, his mother had always been the most beautiful woman. Moreover, now that Ilani had restored her true appearance, her beauty was the same as the famed grace of the Silvermoon Elves, renowned for both their beauty and magical powers.


    Boys have little patience, and as Richard grew older, his patience was no exception. So, without waiting for his mother to guess any further, he quickly said, ¡°Mom, I got Wisdom and Reality!¡±


    ¡°Reality?¡± Ilani was surprised. She knew about Wisdom, but she had never heard of a power like Reality in the Enlightenment.


    Richard furrowed his brow, using his newly gained Wisdom to try and explain, ¡°Reality is... well, it¡¯s the ability to understand the world more clearly. It seems like it can be improved, but right now, it¡¯s not that useful. It just lets me see farther and hear clearer.¡±


    Ilani nodded, supporting Richard¡¯s shoulder and reminding him to cherish the abilities he gained from the Enlightenment, as well as to remember the teachings she had given him. Her instructions were detailed and somewhat repetitive, taking over an hour to finish. She kept restating the same things, which made Richard secretly pull faces in protest. Richard had always been exceptionally intelligent and had a sharp memory, and with his new boost in wisdom, he didn¡¯t need to hear things more than once.


    Ilani finally noticed how much she was repeating herself and smiled as she asked, ¡°My Richard, would you like to meet your father?¡±


    Richard frowned deeply, thinking hard, but couldn¡¯t come up with an answer right away. Before he could think more, Ilani said, ¡°You¡¯ll meet him soon. Someone he sent should be arriving shortly. They¡¯ll take you to see him. On the way, you need to behave and listen carefully, understand?¡±


    ¡°Ah?¡± This was a completely unexpected piece of news, and Richard didn¡¯t know how to react. He nodded blankly before suddenly remembering something, asking, ¡°What about Mom? Will you come too?¡±


    ¡°No, Mom isn¡¯t coming.¡±


    ¡°Then I¡¯m not going!¡± Richard declared firmly.


    Ilani smiled and said, ¡°My Richard is going, because there¡¯s a wish of mine that you need to help me fulfill!¡±


    Richard stood tall, his chest puffed out. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Mom! I¡¯ve grown up, and I will definitely do it! Oh, what¡¯s the wish?¡±


    Ilani gazed deeply at Richard and slowly said, ¡°If one day, my Richard becomes a truly important person, then bury me in your father¡¯s family tomb, at the highest level!¡±


    Little Richard nodded seriously. At this moment, he didn¡¯t yet understand the true meaning behind this wish, nor the difficulty of fulfilling it. But even if he had known, he wouldn¡¯t have hesitated. Boys raised in the mountains never lack courage.


    The mornings in Rutherland Village were usually calm and peaceful, but the serenity of this morning was soon broken. The ground beneath the entire village began to shake, and it quickly escalated into violent tremors. Even the slowest of the elderly could sense something was wrong, so they walked out of their houses and looked towards the end of the road leading out of the village.


    The mountain wind still carried a slight chill, and as it blew through, even the bravest, strongest hunters couldn¡¯t help but shudder. It wasn¡¯t just the cold¡ªthey felt an indescribable chill in their hearts, as though some uncontrollable disaster was about to strike. The ground continued to tremble, and all the villagers stood outside, silently gathering in the open space at the village entrance. From here, they could already see rising smoke in the distance. In the forest, old trees could be heard crashing down, and the birds had long since flown away, not even hesitating to leave their nests, flying straight into the deep mountains.


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    A devilish knight in heavy armor came charging out of the forest!


    The jet-black armor of the knight had more than ten steel spikes protruding from it, and the chest was adorned with a fearsome, grotesque devil¡¯s head. The warhorse beneath him was imposing, even taller than the wild stallion kings the mountain people had ever seen, and it was covered with thick armor. The sharp steel spikes on its armor were clearly not for mere defense. On the horse¡¯s left side hung a massive two-handed greatsword, a typical horse-slaying sword, but longer by a full meter and much heavier. This weapon weighed at least a hundred kilograms, and its striking power was almost unstoppable.


    The rocky mountain path groaned under the weight of the warhorse¡¯s iron hooves. As the warhorse galloped forward, rocks flew, and dirt splattered, leaving deep craters in the ground, exposing the earth beneath. Behind the knight was a detachment of twenty heavily armored cavalry, followed by nearly a hundred light cavalry. Even the light cavalry were clad in finely crafted full armor, and more than half of them carried magical longbows with glowing patterns, well-equipped for battle. This army was strong enough to capture Baron Tark¡¯s castle, but now they were charging full speed toward the tiny village of Rutherland!


    Including the village chief, everyone turned pale. The hunters were brave, but even the bravest of them knew they stood no chance against this fully armed force. The village chief saw a sign of something unusual when he looked at the exceptionally tall warhorse the lead knight rode. His experience in the military told him that only a Constructed Knight would have such a large warhorse!


    The heavy cavalry charged into Rutherland Village, pulling their horses to a halt with a powerful jerk. The huge warhorse reared up, its front hooves crashing to the ground, creating two shallow pits. When the horse finally stopped, its hot breath blasted into the village chief¡¯s chest. The knight lifted his helmet visor, revealing a resolute, imposing face. He scanned the villagers on the square coldly and asked, ¡°Who knows where Ilani lives?¡±


    The villagers looked at each other in confusion. There was no woman named Ilani in Rutherland Village. The blacksmith and the village chief exchanged a glance, but said nothing. The knight¡¯s expression darkened, and just as he was about to speak, the door to the apothecary shop suddenly opened. Ilani walked out, casually asking, ¡°Did Godon send you?¡±


    The knight stared at Ilani for a moment, his face suddenly changing. He leapt off his warhorse and landed in front of Ilani like a flying iron mountain. He knelt on one knee, removed his helmet, and lowered his head. In a deep voice, he said, ¡°I am Godon¡¯s knight, Mordred. I was ordered by the lord to bring the lady back!¡±


    Mordred had short, steel-like dark red hair. Though he knelt before Ilani, an undeniable pressure radiated from him, making the entire apothecary shop quiver under his aura. His massive body seemed to hold a volcano within it, ready to erupt at any moment.


    Ilani¡¯s gown fluttered in the wind, but she didn¡¯t retreat. She stood calmly in the gusts, nodded, and said, ¡°With you here, I can rest easy.¡±


    Mordred smiled, his teeth showing. ¡°Thank you for the praise, my lady.¡±


    Ilani took Richard¡¯s small hand and placed it in Mordred¡¯s palm. She said, ¡°He is the one Godon most desires. His name is Richard¡­¡± She paused for a moment before continuing, ¡°¡­Richard Akmond.¡±


    Mordred looked at little Richard closely before closing his hand around Richard¡¯s, giving a gentle squeeze and smiling. ¡°Mordred is at your service!¡±


    The knight looked up at Ilani again and said, ¡°Lady, your things should be packed. Let¡¯s set off. Lord Godon is eager to see you!¡±


    ¡°I need to get something important first. Wait for me here.¡± Ilani said, walking back into the apothecary and closing the door behind her.


    At this moment, little Richard stared at Mordred, and the bloodthirsty knight looked back at him. They stared at each other, with little Richard¡¯s small eyes locked onto Mordred¡¯s larger ones. After a while, Mordred grinned, not knowing why.


    But suddenly, his smile froze on his face!


    Flames erupted from every window of the apothecary shop without warning, bursting through the roof and shooting up into the sky, reaching more than ten meters high! The fire was so intense and sudden that even Mordred didn¡¯t see it coming!


    The knight roared in anger and leapt forward, charging into the apothecary shop. The stone walls, built of blue rock, crumbled like cheese before him, and the roaring flames couldn¡¯t even harm him. When he entered the shop, he saw Ilani sitting elegantly, flames pouring out from every part of her body, burning everything around her!


    Mordred stood frozen, staring in disbelief as Ilani smiled at him before she completely transformed into flames, burning, ascending, and leaving no trace in this world.


    Little Richard screamed wildly, struggling against the heavy knight holding him, trying to rush into the flames. But all his efforts were in vain. The fire was so fierce that the entire apothecary collapsed in an instant!


    Mordred slowly walked out of the ruins, looking at little Richard, who was crying uncontrollably. After a long silence, he said, ¡°You have a good mother. Come, I¡¯ll take you to see your father.¡±


    The sudden disaster shocked the villagers of Rutherland as well. They stared in disbelief at the ashes and smoke rising from the ruins of the apothecary, unable to comprehend that just moments ago, it had been their beloved shop of ten years.


    The heavy cavalry formed a line, slowly taking Richard away from Rutherland Village. Mordred and the light cavalry remained behind. He had no intention of burying Ilani¡¯s ashes because she had entirely transformed into fire. Only a pure and frenzied genius could burn herself completely. Mordred, having only met this woman once, was filled with respect for her.


    Gazing at the ruins, Mordred¡¯s lips curled into a slight smile, his voice low and barely audible, ¡°This is the kind of woman who truly matches a lord.¡±


    Just then, a knight rode up beside Mordred and asked, ¡°Lord, what should we do with the villagers?¡±


    Mordred glanced at the men and women, young and old, gathered in the square. He stroked his mustache, which was as hard as iron, and said calmly, ¡°There are many grown men here. The lord would not want to see men living here. So, kill them all!¡±

 Chapter Six: Family

    It wasn¡¯t until Richard saw Ayshan from afar that he realized his father was a true figure of importance.


    Located on the Farview Peninsula, Ayshan had a population of over a hundred thousand. The city was built in the shape of the peninsula, with the highest terrain to the northwest, gradually curving southward toward the scattered islands of the Apennine Sea. The narrow, beast-like city seemed to rest peacefully between the water and sky, its houses orderly and streets well-planned. The towering twenty-meter walls curled around the city, protecting its residents. Outside the city, the vast plains were rich in fertile land, and the broad Lain River flowed through the heart of the city, emptying into the Apennine Sea, providing an inexhaustible water source for the far-reaching farmlands.


    In the heart of Ayshan stood a small mountain, and at its peak, the famous Black Rose Fortress was built. It was a grand and imposing complex, capable of easily housing over three thousand soldiers. The towering turrets at every corner held large, permanent catapults, which overlooked the city below with disdainful vigilance. Yet, since the Black Rose Fortress was built, these catapults had never been used. Although enemies had reached the walls of Ayshan, their steps barely touched the city before being crushed.


    The fortress was a masterful piece of defensive engineering. The fortress complex, with its inner fort at its core, boasted features such as shooting platforms extending from the city walls or arrow towers, tunnel-like gates that allowed passage, and five layers of sturdy gates set ten meters deep. There were many other unseen defenses. Upon completion, the Black Rose Fortress was reputed to be impregnable with just a thousand well-trained soldiers stationed there, as long as the supply lines were secure.


    Many travelers with various intentions had visited the city, and when they saw the beast perched on the city¡¯s highest point, they could not help but agree with the fortress designer''s almost insane self-praise. An unnamed noble military strategist had once been invited to the fortress as a guest. After returning, he performed a war game based on what he had witnessed, concluding that even with an army of fifty thousand and heavy siege weapons, the cost to breach the fortress would be catastrophic.


    But the fortress had never been truly tested by the flames of war, because the fortress¡¯ previous owners had no interest in defense. Even when outnumbered, they preferred to use vast plains or deep mountains as battlegrounds, relying on mobile warfare to eliminate their enemies. And they always emerged victorious.


    Even within the Holy Alliance, the madness of the Akmond family was well-known.


    No one wanted to fight against a madman, and this mad family always produced one or even several geniuses at certain points in time. The Akmond family¡¯s greatest enemy, Duke Joseph from the Lennon Peninsula, once remarked that when madness and genius combined, the resulting destruction multiplied, not just added.


    When Duke Joseph said this, his twenty thousand strong force had just been defeated by Akmond¡¯s ten thousand elite soldiers in a long and brutal battle, and less than two thousand of his men had managed to retreat. Joseph¡¯s forces, the Iron Sons, were no weaklings and were considered one of the top military factions on the continent.


    After hundreds of years of development, the Akmond family now boasted two dukes and seven earls, with numerous viscounts and barons¡ªif not in abundance, at least not lacking¡ªand controlled more than one hundred thousand square kilometers of land. While the Akmond family had a relatively short history in the Holy Alliance, their strength was undeniable, placing them among the most influential powers. However, it was curious that, with so many noble titles and so much territory, the family had yet to produce a duke, or even a grand duke, as would have been expected from any other family. After all, the Akmond family lacked neither strength nor capable individuals. They had powerful magicians, high-level warriors, and a variety of bizarre, powerful professions, such as dragon-blooded sorcerers, hell knights, shadow priests, and more. The continent of Norland was never peaceful, with wars constantly raging across it. The human race controlled less than half of the land, constantly fighting with various other races for survival space.


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    Humans were perhaps as warlike as demons. They fought not only with other species but also among themselves. The raging fires of war did not just burn across Norland, but also spread to the depths of the oceans and to various other planes.


    In such a chaotic and complex situation, it would not have been difficult for the Akmond family to produce a duke or even a grand duke. By concentrating their resources on expanding outward, taking land from other races, and establishing a firm grip on it, they could build a complete civil, economic, and judicial system, balancing the interests within the family. Within two generations, they would surely have a duke. At least half of the dukes in the Holy Alliance had risen this way. Therefore, to other noble families, the Holy Alliance Empire seemed like a haven for upstarts, with the emperor being the most notable of them all. But as with anything that reaches a certain point, a fundamental shift takes place, and the explosive rise of the Holy Alliance¡¯s nobility surpassed the tolerance of most established noble families, earning them respect and admiration.


    The Akmond family¡¯s rise was no different. However, their short history left them lacking in both accumulated wealth and power. They had also been too reckless, preventing them from earning respect.


    The current head of the Akmond family, Marquis Godon, was an example of this rise. Fifteen years ago, when he first began his military career, he was only a third-tier novice warrior. He quickly demonstrated his personal strength and political/military talents and ten years ago captured the Elven King¡¯s court in the Evernight Forest, shaking the entire Holy Alliance! Many had dared to invade Elven lands, but only Godon had boldly entered the Evernight Forest with a mere fifty Constructed Knights and a thousand miscellaneous troops¡ªand he succeeded!


    Now, at the age of thirty-three, Godon had become a marquis and was living in the Black Rose Fortress, having received Ayshan as the territory specifically reserved for the Akmond family¡¯s leader.


    Among those who admired him, Godon¡¯s story was considered legendary, and the legend was still being written. But Godon¡¯s absolute influence, beyond the Black Rose Fortress, was only felt in the lands he personally conquered. The other members of the Akmond family barely acknowledged his orders. Within the family, the title of leader was more of an honorary title, of little significance without the fortress and Ayshan.


    Heralds and historians specializing in the Akmond family¡¯s lineage had concluded that the reason no duke had emerged from the family was due to the independence and rebellion that ran through their bloodline. Every Akmond refused to bow to anyone, even if that person was their own father.


    This wasn¡¯t a rigorous conclusion, and the scholar who made this statement was neither renowned nor particularly learned. In fact, if he hadn¡¯t been able to gain funding from any noble family in the Akmond line, he would have been left to wander the streets. If he truly had the talent, he wouldn¡¯t have chosen to study such an obscure family. Ultimately, the scholar¡¯s fate was to die on the streets, impoverished and sick. It was said that when his research reached the Akmond patriarch, the patriarch flipped through it casually, then immediately banned any Akmond from providing him any form of support. Strangely, the traditionally rebellious Akmonds adhered to this command without question.


    The real reason behind this was simple: though the scholar¡¯s writing was filled with elegant phrases, full of flawed logic, absurd examples, and immature speculation, his conclusion was damnably correct.


    The journey from Rutherland Village to Ayshan covered over three thousand kilometers, and it took less than half a month. Along the way, Mordred told Richard much about the Akmond family and introduced some of the customs and power dynamics across several continents. By the time they reached Ayshan, Richard already knew quite a bit about the family.


    For Richard, "family" was a new concept. In the past, his understanding of his father had been vague at best, so how could he understand what a family truly meant? But judging by Mordred''s attitude, this powerful knight seemed to place great importance on family. Here, the concept of family was much broader, including not only the direct and collateral bloodlines but also the lesser nobles and knights who followed the main family. All of them could be considered part of the family. Blood was the bond that tied the family together, but its meaning went beyond mere kinship. Many special bloodlines had unique abilities, and the combination of different bloodlines could often give rise to new powers. Some of these abilities were so powerful that people would go to any lengths to pursue them. As such, nobility and family took on a new meaning in Norland. Marriages were not just for political alliances; they were often to create powerful descendants.


    When Richard stood before the gates of the Black Rose Fortress, he thought he already had a deep understanding of the Akmond family. Yet, the more he learned, the more confused he became. Mordred¡¯s flood of information felt like a series of fragmented puzzles, each piece failing to form a complete picture.

 Chapter Seven: Veil of the Fallen

    Upon their return to Ayshan, the cavalry squadron disbanded to rest. Mordred took young Richard into the Black Rose Fortress and temporarily placed him in a guest room located in the outer fortress. Soon after, two young maids brought fresh clothes and accessories, and filled a wooden tub in the bathroom with hot water. Marquis Godon had scheduled a dinner to meet with Richard, but before that, he needed to bathe, change, and rest for a while.


    The bath and change of clothes were quickly completed, and Richard lay down on the bed. He had about an hour to rest. Despite the exhaustion from the long journey, his mind remained in turmoil, refusing to calm. During the bath, the two maids had been present the entire time. Richard didn¡¯t even have to lift a finger; the process was entirely handled for him. In truth, he had tried to refuse and resist, but the maids easily overpowered him. Though their frames were slender, they possessed strength greater than the village chief¡¯s, rendering Richard completely powerless to fight back. He was obediently scrubbed from head to toe, with even the roots of his hair and the edges of his ears thoroughly cleaned.


    The guest room Richard was assigned to was small but had a ceiling five meters high. A narrow window at three meters allowed a bit of daylight to filter through. The walls were made of unpolished obsidian, preserving the raw, unrefined appearance of the stone as it had been when mined. The rough stone surfaces were decorated with tapestries and shields, the tapestries a deep, dark red that Richard couldn¡¯t help but think looked like dried blood. The room was very dim, and without torchlight, even the midday sun couldn¡¯t penetrate clearly, leaving large shadows and a murky gloom. Lying on the bed, Richard felt an eerie chill emanating from the floor, walls, and corners. But within him, there was a fire, the flame kindled by the maids during the bath. At that moment, they had laughed quietly to themselves. Richard, being quick-witted, sensed that their actions had been intentional.


    The cold and the fire combined, adding to Richard''s sense of confusion. Since leaving Rutherland Village, no, since the beginning of the Enlightenment ceremony, everything had felt like a dream, the world unreal. In the midst of this chaos, a knock at the door sounded: it was time for dinner.


    The dinner hall was located within the inner fortress, a long distance from the guest room. Following the maid¡¯s lead, Richard was left with impressions of only vastness and darkness. The towering buildings seemed endless, with long, winding corridors that, though lit, left many areas in shadow, the flickering torchlight doing little to disperse the deep gloom. The path outside, lined with thick plant foliage, further distorted the light, making Richard¡¯s nerves tighten involuntarily.


    The castle seemed to be imbued with a subtle presence, an aura that lingered before and behind him, intertwining with every step he took. It made him feel an instinctive repulsion, an unease that he couldn¡¯t quite express.


    The dinner hall was not the largest in Black Rose Fortress, but it was certainly grand enough for a duke, with a ceiling soaring fifteen meters high. Despite the many torches mounted along the walls, their light struggled to illuminate the frescoes on the vaulted ceiling. The dining table was twenty meters long, with Richard, dressed in his finest noble clothes, seated at one end. Across the table, a distance enough to seat thirty people, he looked at his father from afar.


    He was a man of peculiar charm, always wearing a smile, with hair and a thick beard neatly groomed. Age had left barely noticeable marks on his face, the faintest of lines at the corners of his deep green eyes that shone with clarity. Yet, those eyes seemed to pull you in, giving an almost suffocating feeling. He sat casually, expertly cutting into his plate of roasted lamb chops, eating quickly, occasionally sipping from a glass of red wine. His movements had a strange rhythm, almost hypnotic. Even the most critical etiquette experts would not find fault with his demeanor. Of course, he ate quickly, and perhaps too much, but his grace masked the fact that in mere moments, several kilograms of lamb had disappeared.


    Richard had to admit that this was a remarkably graceful and charismatic man, though he could hardly suppress the urge to throw his silver plate at him.


    Later, he would come to understand that many others had the same desire to throw things at Marquis Godon¡¯s face.


    But for now, Richard held back¡ªnot for himself, but for his mother. He still didn¡¯t fully understand the meaning of her wish, but with determination, patience, and wisdom, he knew that one day, he would come to grasp the deeper meaning of that wish.


    Richard sat up straighter, awkwardly handling the food in front of him. The meal was abundant¡ªBlack Rose Fortress¡¯s kitchen was famous across the peninsula, home to the finest red meat chefs and pastry chefs. But Richard couldn¡¯t discern the taste of the food that passed into his mouth. He had never been trained in etiquette, and his clumsy handling of the knife and fork made it obvious that he was from a rural background. He was completely unaware of the many noble dining protocols. But the newly dressed Richard looked very handsome, and the somber, melancholic air about him was strangely similar to Godon¡¯s. Several of the passing maids stole glances at him. Richard was no longer just a child; in a year or two, he would start to develop the allure of a man.


    After elegantly and almost magically finishing more than twenty kilograms of lamb, Godon wiped his mouth with a pristine napkin and smiled, his broad mouth showing a row of dazzling white teeth.


    ¡°You¡¯re Richard,¡± he said.


    Richard merely nodded without speaking. He could tell that Godon was stating it as a fact, not asking a question.


    Godon smiled again and said, ¡°You¡¯re lucky, because you¡¯re an Akmond; but you¡¯re also unfortunate, because you¡¯re an Akmond.¡±


    Richard raised his head, meeting Godon¡¯s gaze, and said steadily, ¡°I am Richard.¡±


    Godon¡¯s eyes were as clear as water, but few could hold his gaze. Yet Richard held his head high, not backing down an inch.


    Godon smiled briefly, then sighed, saying, ¡°Your personality is much like your mother¡¯s! But she never mentioned that your name was Richard Yuege.¡± It was phrased as a question, but still had the tone of a statement.


    Richard hesitated, then finally said, ¡°No.¡± Now he understood a bit of what his mother¡¯s intentions had been.


    ¡°So, you¡¯re still an Akmond, whether you admit it or not,¡± Godon said. By now, he had finished all the main courses. He waved his hand, and ten maids appeared in a continuous stream to clear away the used dishes, replacing them with fresh ones and bringing out seven different desserts.


    As he quickly and elegantly worked his way through the desserts, Godon said, ¡°Let¡¯s talk about something unnecessary. Even the most seasoned nobles can¡¯t fault my manners. Yet those old families still think I¡¯m just a nouveau riche. And then there¡¯s another important figure, the one we call ¡®Bloodthirsty Philip,¡¯ whose favorite dish is raw beast meat, served no more than an hour after being cut from the live beast. If it¡¯s a rare breed, the time limit can be extended to a day, and this esteemed gentleman prefers to tear the meat apart with his own hands. Yet those nobles still admit he has real aristocratic bearing. Do you know why?¡±


    Richard shook his head. He knew nothing of the world of nobles. All his knowledge came from Mordred, and the knight was hardly a suitable teacher.


    ¡°Because this ¡®Bloodthirsty Philip¡¯ is none other than our Holy Alliance¡¯s greatest Emperor! His power is so immense, and his temper so volatile, that the old nobles are too afraid to anger him. Plus, having someone like him in their circle brings a lot of tangible benefits. These benefits are so large that they can¡¯t be refused.¡±


    Richard nodded, understanding a little.


    ¡°So, since you¡¯re an Akmond, it¡¯s unfortunate, but you must become powerful, become even stronger! With power, the world becomes your paradise, and without it, anywhere is hell! When that happens, you won¡¯t care if you grew up in the mountains or in the most magnificent castle. You won¡¯t need to pretend, like I do now. These things are illusions, meaningless to you now. What matters is that you become strong! Because you¡¯re an Akmond, blood from the Akmond family flows in your veins! With that surname, people will have high expectations for you. If you¡¯re only a little stronger than the average person, everyone will be disappointed.¡± Godon¡¯s voice grew louder, and soon it sounded like thunder, each word like a shockwave, shaking Richard¡¯s head and vision.


    Richard gripped his knife and fork tightly, no longer caring about the food that fell from the fork and onto his plate, his mind reeling as he stared at the man across from him¡ªstill maintaining an elegance in posture, but yelling thunderously in a way completely mismatched with his composure.


    Godon suddenly quieted his voice, giving a charming smile, and said, ¡°As long as you have enough power, you can do whatever you want, whether it¡¯s meaningful or completely absurd, just like this.¡± With that, he waved for a maid to approach, grabbed her chest and tore her clothes violently in half, leaving her fully exposed. The maid instinctively let out a scream, but quickly swallowed it, keeping her hands obediently at her sides, showing no attempt to cover her exposed body.


    The room¡¯s other occupants¡ªservants, knights, and guards¡ªstood quietly against the walls, like statues. Among them was Mordred, who had accompanied Richard from Rutherland. At this moment, the statues came to life. They still held their standard posture, but their eyes now greedily focused on the naked maid. Though her face was not especially beautiful, her youth lent her body vitality and allure.


    Richard stared, stunned. The shock of the scene was overwhelming for a ten-year-old child. His childhood resilience helped him grip the utensils tightly, preventing them from falling.


    Godon waved his hand, and the maid dared to pick up her torn clothes, though she did not use them to cover herself. She knelt in her usual pose, bowed respectfully, then exited the dining hall, only daring to turn around once she reached the corridor. She feared that if she ran in a disorderly manner, the consequences would be far worse.


    Sure enough, Godon¡¯s voice followed her, ¡°Richard, I had planned to kill someone for you to watch, but I¡¯ve already killed everyone I could during a bad mood a while ago. Speaking of which, there are quite a few spies planted by other nobles here. Too bad I couldn¡¯t control my temper then, and now there¡¯s no one left to kill.¡±


    Richard¡¯s face turned pale. How could anyone speak so lightly of killing? But the servants and knights in the room maintained their usual calm, as if such things were just as ordinary as hunting animals for food.


    Only then did Richard sense that faint presence in the castle, a lingering odor¡ªa scent of blood accumulated over the years.


    By the time he had finished his meal, Richard had no idea what the taste was. He fought to keep the contents of his stomach from rising, but it was difficult. The smell of blood, once noticed, grew increasingly distinct and hung in the air.


    But Richard ate a fair amount. He was growing, and children from the mountains always had a hearty appetite. Godon seemed pleased and said, ¡°The more you eat, the faster you¡¯ll grow. Richard, your mother has a wish she wants you to fulfill, doesn¡¯t she?¡±


    Richard¡¯s expression changed, and he remained silent, giving a silent affirmation. But he didn¡¯t intend to share the details of the wish with Godon. He would only speak of it the day it was fulfilled.


    Godon didn¡¯t press him further, saying, ¡°No matter what your mother¡¯s wish is, it¡¯s probably not easy to fulfill. I won¡¯t help you directly, nor will I give you strength. But I¡¯ll give you ample opportunities, chances to become stronger. As for how far you can go, that depends entirely on you. I hope that one day, when you stand before me, you can speak loudly.¡±


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    Richard nodded but said nothing.


    Godon pondered for a moment and said, ¡°I¡¯ll find you a teacher. You¡¯ll study under her for the next few years. I hope that when you come back to see me, you¡¯ll surprise me. This is not just for me, but for you, and for your mother. Now, go meet your siblings. It¡¯ll be an interesting meeting.¡±


    Richard didn¡¯t understand Godon¡¯s words, but half an hour later, he would understand that meeting his siblings truly was an interesting experience. The deeper meaning of it, however, wouldn¡¯t be clear until several years later, when he would understand it in the most profound way.


    At the time of the meeting, Richard sat rigidly in the high-backed chair, his body stiff as a statue, his eyes slightly turned upward, staring at the painting above the door, completely motionless.


    This was a small reception room in the inner fortress, located in another wing of the building opposite the dining hall, only for family use. The room¡¯s decoration was luxurious and extravagant, in stark contrast to the castle¡¯s dark, cold atmosphere. The room was warm and bright, with fixed lighting magic providing daylight-like brightness, and numerous candles placed in large, ornate floating candelabras, not only adding to the visual effect but also contributing a comfortable warmth. On the large sofas to his left and right sat his brothers and sisters. Specifically, two brothers and six sisters. Richard had never imagined he would have so many siblings, and this was just from his father¡¯s side. If he included the cousins with the Akmond bloodline, there would likely be even more.


    His brothers sat to his left, his sisters to his right, Richard sitting at the center, subjected to the fiery gazes of those around him, feeling as though he were a rare beast waiting for dissection. Unlike the statue-like stillness of Richard, his siblings were far more boisterous and unruly.


    Both boys were younger than Richard, yet the looks they gave him were full of raw curiosity, disdain, and hostility¡ªeverything but familial affection. Their gazes made the hairs on the back of Richard''s neck stand up. Only when he felt the intent to kill did he ever feel like this. The six sisters were of varying ages, the oldest already showing off her developed chest as a sign of her womanhood, while the youngest looked to be no more than five. Their gazes were even more complex¡ªcuriosity, but also scrutiny and hesitation. The two oldest girls even huddled together, whispering to each other, casting occasional glances at Richard, sometimes bursting into overly familiar, ambiguous laughter. Their looks contained something more than mere curiosity¡ªsomething Richard didn¡¯t yet understand but was certain wasn¡¯t the way siblings should look at one another. Soon, Richard would understand: those were the looks a woman gives a man she wants to sleep with.


    Richard said nothing, unsure of what to say. His siblings made no effort to converse with him, but instead kept their intense eyes fixed on him. Some eyes were cold and sharp, almost wishing to bore a hole in his body, while others were filled with an almost overwhelming heat, as if they wanted to devour him.


    The meeting didn¡¯t last long, only ten minutes, but to Richard, it felt like an entire day¡ªan unbearably long day. When the butler came to escort him out of the parlor, he realized his linen shirt was completely soaked with sweat.


    Later, Richard would learn that these ten minutes were more than just an awkward meeting¡ªthey were a ritual. They signified his acceptance into the Akmond bloodline, marking him as a member of the Akmond family. It was also an opportunity for family members to recognize and assess one another.


    The next day at noon, Richard departed the Black Rose Fortress, surrounded by a small cavalry escort, heading west. After that evening¡¯s dinner, he did not see Godon again. His meeting with his father had been simpler, colder than he had imagined. Richard had never expected much from it, but when it was over and he left Ayshan, he found himself feeling a vague sense of loss. His many brothers and sisters made him realize that he was just another ordinary child of his father.


    Yet, Richard quietly clenched his fist, his nails piercing his palm. Two images overlapped in his mind¡ªhis many siblings, and the blazing fire.


    Suddenly, he felt that his mother¡¯s death had been so pointless.


    The journey west was accompanied by Mordred, who spoke little. The trip, which lasted twenty days, felt longer than the journey to Ayshan. They passed through the Dark Forest, crossed the Roman River, and walked along the Pale Mountains for another ten days, passing through the territories of more than a dozen nobles and a large principality, before finally reaching their destination: the domain of the legendary Archmage Su Hailun, the Deep Blue Magic Tower.


    Space holds power, and enormous spaces exert tangible pressure.


    When Richard finally stood before Deep Blue, he saw how magnificent a 500-meter-high magic tower could be. It wasn¡¯t just a single building; the complex, dominated by deep blue, was nestled against the Everwinter Mountain Range, stretching towards the icebound bay. The main structure was in classic Gothic style, with intricately carved flying buttresses, soaring spires, pointed arches, and swirling clouds of colorful elemental energy and arcane power atop its peaks, giving the tower the appearance of soaring into the sky.


    Soon, Richard met Su Hailun, a woman who was not only a legendary mage but also a protector of the Holy Alliance and a dragon slayer. She was also the mentor chosen by Godon for him.


    However, when Richard stood before Su Hailun, he realized that she had never agreed to teach him; this entire trip had been a one-sided wish of Godon¡¯s.


    Richard now stood in Su Hailun¡¯s magic hall, a dreamlike space. The walls and floor were made of an unknown material, with a deep teal-blue base color, translucent and smooth, like jade or crystal. Looking into the depths, it seemed as if one could peer deep into the material, yet at the same time, it felt as though nothing could truly be seen. Bands of light in various colors spiraled through the room, moving erratically like playful fish, their liveliness almost giving the sensation that the lights were alive.


    At one end of the hall stood a throne made from a single block of natural crystal, on which Su Hailun sat. Her feet rested just below Mordred¡¯s chin, and above Richard¡¯s head, placing her physically higher than both. However, no one would think this disrespectful given her legendary status. Su Hailun¡¯s golden hair was loosely tied, and her low-cut, court-style dress exposed her shoulders and ample, snow-white chest. Her skin was so smooth and pale that it seemed almost impossible, and any part of her body would tempt a person to bite it. Naturally, the first temptation would be her full breasts, followed by her face. Her appearance was that of a seventeen- or eighteen-year-old girl, with a calm and solemn expression, radiating classical beauty as she sat on her towering crystal throne, looking like a goddess newly arrived.


    Anyone seeing her for the first time would be unable to reconcile such a young, beautiful woman with the title of legendary mage. Yet even the youngest of mages knew that the Deep Blue Tower had been built over a hundred years ago.


    Her hands, crossed in her lap, each wore long finger gloves crafted from magical gold, studded with various gems and intricate patterns. The patterns themselves were small magic arrays, and the gems were rare magical stones, some of which only existed in legends. To anyone knowledgeable, these gloves were powerful magical artifacts, perhaps even approaching the level of divine relics. But Su Hailun had filled all ten of her fingers with them! Her earrings, necklace, and even the hair tie she wore were made of similar magical items.


    The crystal throne gleamed brilliantly. Even Richard, who had no understanding of such things, could tell how precious it was. Yet the true worth of this magical hall far exceeded that of the crystal throne. The abyssal crystals used by mages to adorn their staffs were here used for flooring and wall construction!


    Standing in the magic hall, Richard felt his senses suddenly expand. Faint currents of energy began to flow into his body through strange channels. As these fine threads of power entered him and were slowly absorbed, Richard suddenly heard the sound of breaking glass in his mind. It was as though a barrier had shattered, allowing his senses to spread out freely.


    In the next moment, Richard felt he was standing on an ocean of magic!


    This was a dark ocean, devoid of light, with currents moving beneath the surface, ready to silently swallow a whale. If Richard were to fall into this ocean, he would be devoured instantly, without a ripple. Yet at this moment, he was standing on the surface!


    The disorienting experience caused Richard¡¯s face to turn pale, and his body began to tremble uncontrollably. But the feeling was so real, he couldn¡¯t tell if it was actually happening.


    Meanwhile, Mordred and Su Hailun were seriously discussing Richard¡¯s tuition fees.


    ¡°The lord requests that, considering past ties, you teach the young master with care.¡±


    ¡°Past ties? Ah, I remember now, your marquis still owes me a lot of materials!¡±


    ¡°The principal amount has already been paid, hasn¡¯t it?¡±


    ¡°What about the interest?¡±


    It was unwise to discuss numbers with a legendary mage, so Mordred quickly changed the subject, playing his second card: ¡°Young Master Richard has extraordinary magical talent.¡±


    ¡°Hmph, every year, dozens of geniuses want to learn magic from me! Even divine favorites, I have to turn away three or four.¡±


    Mordred, with a serious expression, revealed his trump card: ¡°The young master has the blood of the Akmond family running through his veins, and its purity rivals that of the lord himself. No one in this generation of Akmonds can compare.¡±


    Su Hailun¡¯s eyes lit up, causing the entire hall to shimmer as though a dragon had seen treasure. Her voice remained calm, though everyone could tell it was only for show: ¡°Then what can I do?¡±


    ¡°You can do as you please!¡± This didn¡¯t sound like the serious, bloodthirsty Mordred at all. In fact, it was the marquis¡¯s exact words. Yet Mordred spoke with the same solemn expression, perhaps slightly different from his inner thoughts.


    At this moment, Richard¡¯s unusual behavior was noticed by both Su Hailun and Mordred.


    Su Hailun thoughtfully said, ¡°The little one was actually able to sense the magic pool of this hall, quite impressive. Hmm, I suppose learning magic from me is more or less acceptable.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s right!¡± Mordred smiled, but inside, he thought, This entire hall is made of abyssal crystal! Even a warrior like me can feel the magic strength. What¡¯s so impressive about that? The excuse was too flimsy.


    ¡°But that¡¯s not enough,¡± Su Hailun continued. ¡°Godon¡¯s two planes are decent, I¡¯ll take ten years of revenue from either.¡±


    ¡°Plane time?¡±


    ¡°No, Norland time.¡±


    Mordred¡¯s lips twitched slightly, but he nodded. This was pushing Godon¡¯s limits, but it could be accepted. In the grand world system, Norland was one of the higher-level planes, and its time flow was usually slower than secondary planes. Ten years in Norland could equate to over a hundred years in other planes. Godon had already offered an unbelievable amount, which would certainly affect his future expansion plans. After all, Godon¡¯s next target was the imperial capital, the legendary city of Fuside. To make a foothold there, no amount of preparation was excessive.


    At this moment, Mordred recalled a nickname quietly circulating among top figures in the Alliance: The Bloodsucker...


    Her other famous saying was well known: ¡°I may not be the strongest, but I will always be the wealthiest.¡±


    However, Su Hailun then said, ¡°At the next Prayer Ceremony at the Eternal Dragon Temple, I will offer some help to little Godon.¡±


    Mordred¡¯s heart relaxed, as this aligned with Godon¡¯s limits. But then he felt an odd sensation: such a major decision had been made so quickly, without much negotiation, both sides quickly reaching a deal on the terms.


    Truly, they were in sync!


    With the most important task now completed, Mordred left. As he left, he couldn¡¯t resist glancing back at Richard, his gaze complicated.


    When you stack up over a hundred years of a plane¡¯s total revenue, no matter its form, anyone who sees it will have a complex expression.


    Su Hailun gently waved her hand, and the eighteen level twelve or above mages standing by immediately withdrew. Only Su Hailun remained with Richard, still struggling against the magic surging through him. Though his clothes were drenched in sweat, Richard managed to hold on, his resilience honed over years of hardship finally showing its effects.


    Su Hailun lightly snapped her fingers, and the magic tide hidden beneath the floor began to calm. The illusions in Richard¡¯s mind vanished. As the focus of the entire magical tide settled on him, even though he was a magic novice, he displayed ¡°extraordinary¡± magical talent. This was a small trick, one that Mordred undoubtedly saw through, but Su Hailun didn¡¯t try to hide it. There were more sophisticated methods and excuses, but she simply couldn¡¯t be bothered to use them.


    Even if the excuse was weak, it was still an excuse. Mordred, though he could see through Su Hailun¡¯s methods, didn¡¯t dare say anything. That was the key.


    Richard steadied his breathing and slowly looked up to meet Su Hailun¡¯s gaze. He froze for a moment. Although she was high above him, her imposing aura far stronger than any fierce beast he had seen, this young woman, looking no older than seventeen or eighteen, with a flawless, inviting figure¡ªwas she really going to be his teacher?


    ¡°Your father has sold your next few years to me.¡± The way Su Hailun said ¡°sold¡± was vague. Richard, lacking the ability to clearly understand at this moment, didn¡¯t catch the full meaning of it. Just moments ago, as the archmage and the bloodthirsty madman had bargained, Richard had been enduring the surge of magical power, unaware of everything happening outside.


    ¡°From today on, you are my student. You will follow my every command, no matter what it is, without question.¡± Su Hailun¡¯s voice was firm and cold.


    ¡°Yes,¡± Richard responded. On the way here, he had already learned the responsibilities and obligations of a magic apprentice.


    Su Hailun snapped her fingers again, and two high-ranking mages entered to escort Richard out. Since Su Hailun had acknowledged him as her student, Richard showed the appropriate respect and humility, no longer meeting her gaze, as it would be disrespectful. Thus, he didn¡¯t see the strange look in Su Hailun¡¯s eyes¡ªone that was similar to the look an Alaskan polar bear might give its favorite food, the big salmon: lustful, greedy.


    It took a long time for the magic hall to be left in silence. After a while, Su Hailun didn¡¯t know if she could stop herself from laughing out loud. Her beautiful little face showed no attempt to hide her delight, and with a swish, she unfurled a magical scroll. The image projected from it formed a 3D magical map, filled with hundreds of coordinates marking various planes.


    Su Hailun eagerly scanned the dragon markers on the map, contemplating raiding a few dragon nests to celebrate her good mood today.


    ¡°What should I do tonight? Rob a dragon? Rob a dragon? Or rob several dragons?¡± The beautiful legendary mage was troubled in her own way.

 Chapter Eight: Testing

    The Deep Blue Main Tower was not built like a typical magical tower. Not only was it three times the height of an ordinary tower, but its diameter was also over twice as wide. This meant that the total area of Deep Blue was more than ten times the size of an average magical tower, not counting its enormous accompanying buildings. The sheer scale of the structure, with the amount of resources required, was beyond imagination. More than ten thousand people lived directly or indirectly around Deep Blue, making it the size of a small city. But Deep Blue, like a giant beast, consumed ten times more materials than a city of the same size.


    For the circulation of goods, Deep Blue had its own deep-water port, where magic had been used to carve docking points for giant ocean liners into the hard reefs. On land, three main roads connected the tower from different directions, and along those roads, at least five or six towns had thrived due to trade.


    Situated at the northern tip of the Frozen Sea Bay in the continent¡¯s northwest, Deep Blue was also located at the mouth of two great rivers. The Frozen Sea Bay spanned vast distances, resembling a sea in its entirety, stretching over 1,500 kilometers from the Starlight Peninsula in the south to the Winter Mountain Range in the north. Every winter, the bay would freeze, with only the southern coastal areas being navigable. However, Deep Blue¡¯s port, located at the end of the warm currents, was a non-freezing port.


    The location of Deep Blue was incredibly important. It was not only well-connected but also controlled one of the three major passages from the Ice Ocean Continent. The ferocious Polar Grey Dwarves and magical beasts had no choice but to detour through the Sunset Canyon to the east. This road was more than a thousand kilometers longer, and it forced them to confront the Thunder God Fortress of the Holy Alliance Empire. After a few major battles following the completion of Deep Blue, the Polar Grey Dwarves preferred to attack the Thunder God Fortress rather than face the methods of Su Helen. This woman had already been equated with the most terrifying of evil gods in the legends of many Polar Grey Dwarf tribes. After she officially broke through to the 20th level and became a Legendary Mage, Deep Blue had become a peaceful land.


    Even the brutal and fierce Grey Dwarves, known for their strength in battle, no longer wished to disrupt the peace here. Over time, the lands surrounding Deep Blue had transformed into a prosperous and beautiful region.


    This was the history of Deep Blue.


    The historian telling this story was an almost 100-year-old mage, whose magical abilities were not very strong. At level 8, he was one of the weakest mages that Richard had encountered in Deep Blue. However, the old mage had an excellent appearance and a voice that was rich in tone. His knowledge of Deep Blue¡¯s history was second only to Su Helen. His job was simple: to explain the history of Deep Blue to visitors. For a new apprentice like Richard, learning about Deep Blue¡¯s glorious past was his first lesson in magic, a lesson even more important than magical ability or talent tests. The latter determined how far a mage could go in the complex world of magic, but Richard would only understand later that the former decided whether an apprentice could walk the path of magic at all.


    Richard¡¯s status was different from that of other apprentices. He was personally accepted by Su Helen as a student, so what would have been one day of history lessons for ordinary apprentices turned into three days for him. To extend the history lessons of Deep Blue over three days was indeed a test of the old mage¡¯s skills.


    In the history recounted by the old mage, many details were omitted, and key aspects were deliberately ignored. However, official histories always make such omissions, knowing what can be said and what must remain forgotten. Richard, with the help of his talents in wisdom and perception, was able to piece together a fairly complete picture in his mind.


    The three days of brainwashing had a significant effect. At least now, Richard would never look at Su Helen as a na?ve, innocent, fair-skinned young girl again. He no longer felt the urge to bite her. The woman, feared even by the Grey Dwarves and Ice Ocean Giants, was someone whose terror could not be overstated.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Of course, this result was not the old mage¡¯s intention, but he would never know. To most people, Richard appeared to be a quiet child, so silent that he rarely showed any extra expression. He had never been seen smiling happily, nor crying after being reprimanded or bullied. Whatever he was asked to do, he would immediately do, doing it meticulously and flawlessly, not at all like a mere ten-year-old child.


    There was no sunshine in Richard.


    After three days of history lessons, it was time for the magical talent test. Richard was brought into a special hall, where the alchemical instruments dazzled him. More than twenty busy mages were in the hall, and the one overseeing the test was a great mage. When Richard used his "Perception" ability, he didn¡¯t see a mage at all but instead a glowing orb of magical energy! This was at least a level 17 mage, someone who could easily serve as a court mage in any empire but had been assigned to conduct Richard¡¯s talent test.


    Richard was stripped of all his clothes and strapped to a cold metal chair, his body bound by various straps. The great mage personally inserted several crystal needles carefully into Richard¡¯s body. The entire process was painful, but Richard quietly gritted his teeth and endured it. Judging by the setup, it was clear that this was no ordinary test. He had never heard of a talent test requiring such elaborate rituals. For ordinary apprentices, a simple zero-level spell cast on a crystal ball suffices. But these mages treated the test as if it were the most significant magical experiment, with each of them serious, precise, and efficient, showcasing the full professionalism of high-level mages.


    What Richard didn¡¯t know was that behind the single-sided magical wall, Su Helen was comfortably reclining on a sofa, observing the entire testing process. Although she was engrossed in a book of notes from a previous legendary mage and snacking on fruit, the methods of the legendary mage were beyond the understanding of ordinary people. Even without using her eyes or ears, she had over a hundred ways to monitor everything happening around her. Under Su Helen¡¯s watchful gaze, all the mages were doing their utmost.


    There was only one master of Deep Blue, and that was Su Helen. Everyone else was a servant. As long as they could make her happy, the mages¡¯ treatment would likely improve by fifty percent.


    A mage walked over and held a beaker near Richard¡¯s nose, making him inhale the mist rising from it. Moments later, Richard¡¯s consciousness began to fade, but he still remained slightly aware of what was happening around him.


    Strange sensations started spreading throughout his body. After a while, he vaguely heard a muffled voice say, "High elemental affinity, fire and shadow with a slight affinity for the divine. No specific elemental talent."


    Then came sharp pains, testing Richard¡¯s capacity to endure elemental damage and the most basic form of magical resistance. After a moment, the voice announced that his elemental resistance was good.


    Next, Richard¡¯s consciousness suddenly felt like a needle had been thrust into it, and the pain directly impacted his soul! Though on the verge of passing out, Richard still couldn¡¯t help but convulse, but his body was tightly bound, unable to escape.


    "Excellent mental power, close to genius level." Upon hearing this, Richard finally relaxed. It seemed that the evaluation was quite positive.


    Afterward, there were detailed tests of his physical capabilities. What Richard didn¡¯t know was that the professional mages even tested his male capabilities, rating them as quick to develop with excellent potential, which was even higher than his magical talent. The testing went on for a full three hours, resulting in a report over twenty pages long.


    During this time, Su Helen read two books of notes, experimented with a new magical concept, and ate ten pounds of fruit. Yet, she never left her monitoring position.


    When Richard regained consciousness, he was told that his magical talent had been rated as excellent, with no particular elemental affinity. He also had satisfactory martial talent, which could make him a level 11-12 fighter if he chose that path.


    Richard was overjoyed by the excellent rating, but after the long testing, he was so exhausted that he could barely stand. He was then led away to rest. He wondered if there was an evaluation level higher than excellent, though he figured that level would be reserved for true geniuses. However, what he didn¡¯t know was that his rating system was different¡ªabove "excellent," there were five more levels: genius, exceptional, legendary, unique, and Su Helen.