《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 1 : 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 2 : 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 3 : 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 4 : 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 5 : 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 6 : 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 7 : 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.¡±


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    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 8 : 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.


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    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.

 Chapter 9 : Numbers

    Inside the monitoring room, Helen Su lounged lazily on a sofa, casually flipping through the inspection report. Although she had already memorized every detail, she chose to review it once more¡ªpartly as a nod to the dozens of mages¡¯ hard work, and partly as supervision.


    "Balanced abilities with no distinct weaknesses or remarkable strengths. Mental power... decent enough. Proportions look good; he''ll probably be attractive once grown¡­ plenty of abs... very agile, strong endurance¡­ Anything else?" Helen raised her head from the report and stared at the archmage.


    Under her scrutiny, the Level Eighteen archmage involuntarily shivered and respectfully replied, "This is the most comprehensive test we can currently conduct, totaling 116,000 imperial gold coins. All results are here; no other special talents have emerged yet."


    Wisely, he chose to overlook and forget some of Helen''s previous murmurs. To reach Level Eighteen, a mage''s intelligence transcended mere genius.


    Helen''s eyebrows knitted together. "Given his talent, he''ll reach Level Eighteen at best! Hardly anything special."


    The Level Eighteen mage, considered "hardly special," maintained his humble and sincere smile as he listened attentively.


    "Impossible! His Archimonde bloodline is incredibly strong and pure, even stronger than little Gordon¡¯s. Odd¡­ Perhaps stimulated by his Silvermoon Elf lineage. But how could there be no special talents detected?" Helen''s eyebrows furrowed even deeper.


    The archmage gently replied, "Archimonde belongs to a superior bloodline. Detecting bloodline talents currently exceeds our abilities."


    "Nonsense!" Helen snapped. "I distinctly remember at least six methods to test superior bloodline talents, even at the highest levels! Do you realize how important superior bloodlines are? Are you all incompetent fools? Are my coins wasted on dogs? If he might have a superior bloodline talent, you should spare no expense to test it without even asking me! Understand? No matter the cost!"


    "The cheapest method would exceed 600,000 imperial gold coins," the mage calmly reminded.


    "Oh¡­ Forget it, then!"


    Richard, unaware of this little episode behind the scenes, fell into a deep sleep after enduring a day of painful tests.


    In his dreams, he returned to Roseland Village, carrying heavy breadfruit toward home. The familiar, cozy cottage was in sight, his mother standing at the door waiting for him. The delicious scent of freshly baked pies promised freedom from tasteless breadfruit tonight. Little Richard eagerly dashed forward, seeing his mother smile gently before turning back into the house. Suddenly, flames burst forth from every window!


    Richard jolted upright with a scream, lunging forward. It took several panicked breaths before he recognized his surroundings, sweat soaking his pajamas instantly. His chest felt as though weighted with lead, nearly suffocating him. Slowly, he lifted his gaze to a luxurious bed beneath him¡ªimmense, easily accommodating five or six people. The bedroom itself was enormous; at a glance, precise measurements flooded his mind: a vast 20x15-meter area, ceilings six meters high. Lying there, Richard felt like a lone boat adrift on an ocean. This room alone surpassed even the village chief''s entire house, leaving Richard puzzled why such grand space was reserved solely for sleeping.


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    He got out of bed, carefully observing the lavish bedroom furnishings, reflecting a style suited both to mages and high aristocrats. Richard soon noticed that whenever he concentrated on an object, precise numerical data instantly appeared in his mind, accurate down to two decimal places. This was his "Truth" talent awakened by Enlightenment, inexplicably strengthened to its second stage: "Precision." Richard could sense deeper abilities as well¡ªthe third stage "Insight" for analyzing internal structures, and the fourth, "Appraisal," for identifying material compositions. But reaching these stages was a distant goal.


    Richard still didn¡¯t fully grasp the practical uses of "Truth," but quickly found himself drowning in numbers.


    Everything he saw overflowed with countless digits, flooding his mind simultaneously. A simple chair comprised 111 data points¡ªlength, width, height, surface curvature, and more. If Richard wished, these could multiply infinitely. For instance, the chair¡¯s silk back consisted of countless fibers, and the leather armrests contained minuscule, invisible scales from a dragon-like creature, robust and tightly woven.


    Living in a world defined purely by numbers was overwhelming. Richard felt his head might explode from the sheer volume of information. Fortunately, his enhanced intelligence quickly categorized and filtered these numbers, leaving only essential data.


    Throughout the night, Richard battled endless data streams, reducing their volume while ensuring critical information remained intact. Unaware, dawn approached.


    Today marked Richard¡¯s official first day as Helen Su¡¯s student.


    The day began with a tour of Deepblue, introducing Richard to his designated area, public facilities, restricted zones, resource acquisition, points of contact, and general guidelines. Richard was especially astonished by his personal "area."


    Indeed, "area" was perfectly precise.


    Besides the enormous bedroom, Richard owned a dedicated magical laboratory cluster: one general-purpose lab and six specialized labs. His living quarters included eleven rooms for distinct purposes. One room was solely for clothing storage¡ªa baffling luxury, as all Richard''s possessions, largely provided by Gordon, could fit into a small box. Apart from a necklace from his mother, everything¡ªincluding the magic books from his childhood¡ªhad been reduced to ashes by the devastating flames conjured by a high priest¡¯s sacrifice, comparable to dragon breath.


    His warehouse area matched his personal quarters in scale, divided into multiple enormous rooms filled with towering shelves. Standing amid the vast emptiness, Richard struggled to fathom how he could ever fill such space¡ªlarge enough to hold provisions for an entire village through winter.


    Guiding Richard was a charming young apprentice mage, whose voice matched her sweet appearance. Throughout the tour, she frequently repeated her name, subtly hinting Richard could approach her "for anything"¡ªemphasizing "anything" with eyes curving playfully like crescent moons. Though Richard didn''t understand now, soon enough he would. That would mark his transition from "potentially useful" to "usable," the moment his "exceptional potential" truly emerged.


    During their tour, mages hurriedly passing by often stepped aside respectfully, some even bowing slightly. Richard¡¯s "Truth" talent discerned their eyes focusing on the patterns embroidered on his newly acquired robes¡ªidentifying him unmistakably as Helen Su¡¯s personal student. Clearly, his status within Deepblue was considerably high.


    On the second day, systematic magical training formally began.


    Receiving a lengthy curriculum, Richard again felt dizzy. Deepblue defied traditional magical education norms; the "Fundamentals of Magic" alone branched into Magical Philosophy, World Systems, Plane Biology, Plane Geography, Mathematics, Principles of Worlds, Structural Theory, Material Science, Plane Geometry, Spatial Geometry, Race History, Analysis of Alien Lifeforms, and more. Each subject continued subdividing with increasing depth, persisting throughout one¡¯s magical career.


    Within Deepblue¡¯s magical system, Magical Philosophy held a pivotal position¡ªit was also where Richard¡¯s true education began.

 Chapter 10 : Top-Down

    The class was held in an enormous lecture hall large enough to seat three hundred people. At the center was a raised platform with a dozen wide, comfortable seats, contrasting sharply with the crowded benches on either side. As Richard entered, he was guided directly to the central area, instantly drawing the attention of hundreds of eyes. The students ranged widely in age, from seven- or eight-year-old children to elderly mages in their eighties. The class was semi-public; any mage who had served Deepblue for over a year could attend. But the central platform was reserved exclusively for Helen Su''s personal disciples, making Richard an immediate focal point¡ªreceiving gazes filled with envy, jealousy, and resentment.


    Besides Richard, there were two others on the central platform, a boy and a girl slightly older than him. They were already Level 6 and Level 5 mages, respectively. Helen Su had accepted a total of twelve students before Richard, making him the thirteenth. Currently, only three students, including himself, were studying in Deepblue. The others had already begun journeys across the continent or even other planes, with the most outstanding among them dominating their own planes.


    Richard had barely sat down when the main door opened, and in walked a short, pudgy, balding mage. Popovich, a Level 16 archmage, was not particularly outstanding within Deepblue, barely ranking among the strong on the continent. However, he was renowned not for his magical power but for his theoretical contributions to world systems.


    Popovich''s appearance was unimpressive, even comical, with his large nose and round chin. Yet, those gathered were all aspiring to advance further in the magical world, recognizing the rare opportunity of studying in Deepblue. The room fell silent immediately, awaiting the master''s lecture.


    "Magic is about truth. When you observe the world, what you see and hear is not reality itself but an image of the world projected into your consciousness by your perception. This process is inevitable and seemingly insignificant, yet precisely because of it, there will always be discrepancies between the perceived world and the true one. How do we reduce this error? Only through our way of thinking! Indeed, a mage''s way of thinking determines the world he sees."


    Popovich paused briefly, allowing students¡ªsome confused, others thoughtful¡ªto absorb and record his words, before continuing:


    "In the coming lessons, I cannot teach you powerful Level 8 spells, let alone Level 9, since I don''t even know them myself!"


    Silence filled the room, completely devoid of the laughter Popovich had expected. Faced with such earnest and respectful students, he rubbed his bald head awkwardly, muttering, "What a humorless bunch. Alright, let''s get to the point. I will teach you how to think. Do not underestimate this¡ªit¡¯s the cornerstone that determines your ultimate achievements in the magical world. Correct thinking brings you closer to reality, guiding you to make informed decisions at crucial moments rather than stumbling blindly into lifelong regrets. Such decisions include magical experimentation and spell choices in battle."


    "To summarize my system in a phrase: top-down. Remember, understanding the world first allows you to understand yourself. If you adopt the viewpoint advocated by a certain individual in this tower, starting from yourself outward, you''ll only ever see a limited area around you, thus restricting your lifetime achievements. Can a sparrow ever compete with an eagle? Avoid such limited thinking at all costs¡ªit¡¯s akin to a prairie gopher¡¯s perspective!"


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    After fiercely criticizing "a certain individual in this tower" for another ten minutes, Popovich finally began his lecture:


    "Primal Force is the basis of everything. Our world is built upon it, expanding as the Primal Force itself expands. Its immensity remains beyond our control. Imagine the Primal Force as a single point, with our world and countless others hanging upon it."


    "Rules construct the framework of our world, while planes are its flesh. Rules supersede but rely upon planes. Each plane represents specific rules; the more rules a plane holds, the larger and higher-ranked it is. Perfect planes, bearing multiple rules¡ªsuch as our very own Norland¡ªare advanced, often termed ''primary planes.''"


    "Thus, you see that rules and planes are inseparable. To grow powerful, you must follow the rules, not break them. Violating fundamental rules brings inevitable punishment. Unless you''re confident you can challenge an entire plane, never attempt to alter fundamental rules. Secondary, derived rules, however, are open to your wildest imaginations¡ªbut beware, these remain mere fantasies! Miracles exist, but don''t expect them personally! Understanding this, the strong utilize and challenge derived rules; only fools meddle with fundamental rules."


    "Rules define a plane''s basic characteristics and its power systems. Should you ever undertake the unlikely venture of conquering other planes, analyzing their derived rules and power structures becomes your highest priority. Completing this analysis allows you to adapt combat methods and reallocate resources, exploiting a plane''s environment rather than being constrained by it. Amid this endeavor, do you know what''s most essential?"


    Popovich, increasingly enthusiastic, paused to quench his thirst by gulping down an entire flask of magically purified water before shouting passionately:


    "The Eternal and Time Dragon!"


    The Eternal and Time Dragon enjoyed nearly absolute supremacy in Norland, revered above many gods. Its power was inconceivable, transcending worship and comprehension. The dragon had its own temple¡ªthe Eternal Dragon Temple¡ªwhose locations and numbers were fixed, unaffected by time or space. Even before ancient civilizations recorded history, these temples existed, guiding the rise of Norland''s magical civilization. Human kingdoms and other races alike built their capitals upon discovered temple ruins, developing into powerful empires.


    "This ancient dragon surpasses rules, leaving traces across countless planes! When entering a new plane, your ultimate goal should be locating its remnants¡ªwhether a dragon, an egg, or even mere droppings. Finding such traces reveals the plane''s rules immediately, elevating you instantly among the true powerhouses of interplanar existence! Compared to this ancient dragon, those so-called gods are mere parasites upon rules. Weaker gods control fewer rules; stronger deities command more. It''s as simple as that!"


    "Top-down, always top-down!" Popovich, flushed and animated, seemed dangerously close to a magical eruption, yet his voice rose to a crescendo. "Origin, world, rules, planes, power, then the individual¡ªit''s truly this straightforward! Once you master proper thinking, you''ll find yourself perched atop the Eternal and Time Dragon''s horn, overlooking countless planes! Those so-called Sword Saints, Paladins, and Legends amount to less than dust in the grand scheme. Of course, the great Helen Su is an exception¡ªshe¡¯s our boss, uniquely special!"


    Finally, Popovich punctuated each word emphatically, his stubby fists pounding rhythmically:


    "Thinking determines everything!"


    Each phrase struck Richard''s consciousness like a hammer blow. Popovich had employed a method akin to mental shock, using his Level 16 strength to forcibly enhance the lecture''s impact. As students recovered from their dizziness, the magical bell rang, signaling the class''s end.


    "That concludes today''s lesson. Together, let''s curse that certain individual in this tower! Class dismissed!" Popovich grabbed his thick spellbook and vanished via an eighth-level targeted teleportation spell¡ªa dramatic display of a Level 16 mage¡¯s power.


    Back in his quarters, Richard couldn''t calm his racing thoughts, feverishly reading the assigned books until dawn. Popovich had opened a new door, revealing glimpses of the world''s secrets¡ªjust like the first time he had opened the sacred texts in his attic at home.

 Chapter 11 : First Spell

    The second day''s class was again Magical Philosophy, but this time taught by Riley¡ªa Level Seventeen archmage known as "that certain someone in this tower."


    Tall and lean, Riley wore meticulously polished adamantine-rimmed magical glasses. His refined appearance was matched by deep, intelligent eyes that seemed capable of penetrating the world''s secrets. When he stood at the podium, absolute silence enveloped the classroom. A Level Seventeen archmage was close enough to a magister that advancement might be forever elusive or perhaps just a night''s work away. Yet, compared to a Level Sixteen mage, the additional eighth-level spell slot alone significantly altered their relative strengths¡ªthree versus two eighth-level spells was a difference even a child could grasp, not counting the advantage in lower-level spells.


    Having reached Level Seventeen first, Riley''s demeanor in certain matters had become flawless. He no longer concerned himself with "prairie gophers" nor spoke derisively of "Kamchatka boars."


    Standing at the podium always pleased Riley. Within this confined space, at least, he held absolute authority. Everything would have been perfect if only a certain woman named Helen Su didn''t cross his mind.


    His voice, soft yet powerful, resonated equally in everyone''s ears:


    "Everything has a foundation, just as the world rests upon a single origin, and planes and rules depend on one another. All beings¡ªhumans or otherwise¡ªexist upon these planes. Though weak, we are not insignificant. No two souls are identical, just as no two people are precisely the same. Our purpose is to comprehend the world, gradually grow powerful, and gain greater resources¡ªequivalent to freedom. Our world is dominated by the strong, and our laws are rules set by those strong individuals. Though infinitely distant from a plane''s derived rules, these laws dictate the fate of most of us. As weaker beings, you don''t even need to defy derived rules¡ªbreaking human laws alone is enough for your destruction."


    Many students nodded, particularly the older mages. Compared to the previous day''s forceful mental bombardment, today''s class showed genuine interaction. Encouraged by the positive response, Riley continued confidently:


    "Only magisters can sense derived rules; before reaching Legendary status, comprehending fundamental plane rules is impossible. Among us, how many will ever reach magister rank? Even for geniuses, how many fall along the way? Understanding world composition and plane rules is of little immediate value to you. However! Anything is possible in magic¡ªas long as you possess sufficient power. But where does power originate? It arises from knowing yourself and exploiting your environment. Each person is complex; fully understanding oneself may take a lifetime. Thus, enhancing your strength demands a grounded, realistic approach, beginning with self-awareness. Only by building from the bottom upward can you grasp your destiny."


    With a wave of his hand, Riley conjured a magical image of a human body, pointing to various parts:


    "Strength isn''t complicated, nor is it as simple as having more spell slots¡ªthough three eighth-level spells certainly surpass two. Power is essentially composed of attributes, equipment, skills, and bloodline. There''s also a fifth element: intelligence! It represents the greatest individual variation, something only you can develop. Let''s begin by examining attributes¡ªstarting with mental power..."


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    Richard gained considerable insights from this lesson, learning for the first time that mental power originated from the soul, while mana was the driving force behind spells. Warriors relied primarily on physical strength, and clerics harnessed faith. However, upon reaching Legendary ranks, all professions somewhat leveraged the power of rules; the degree determined their ultimate strength.


    Riley gracefully concluded the lesson:


    "Don''t chase impractical dreams. Remain grounded, advancing step by step¡ªthis is your task. Higher ranks grant longer life, increasing your potential to pursue greater power. Thus, clearly understanding yourself, your environment, and resource allocation maximizes personal strength. The further along the path to power you progress, the more significant each step becomes. The real difference between Level Seventeen and Sixteen mages isn''t as small as people imagine."


    Richard barely had time to absorb these two contrasting methods of thought when, on the third day, Master Phil introduced yet more ideas. Drawing a circle in the air and dividing it vertically, he marked red on the left and blue on the right.


    "The world''s mysteries are infinite. Can we fully understand them? Opinions differ here. Some say yes¡ªmany mages fall into this category. Others claim it''s impossible, asserting only gods possess complete knowledge; thus, believers and clerics usually belong here."


    Phil had split the circle equally, signifying neutrality without endorsing either view. After exploring contradictions such as whether the world could be infinitely divisible, Phil described numerous additional perspectives. Like Richard, most students struggled to grasp the significance. They couldn''t see how these debates increased magical power.


    Yet, none dared voice doubts. Phil was a Level Eighteen magister¡ªseemingly only a ninth-level spell separated him from Riley, but this single spell represented an unfathomable gap.


    Merely a ninth-level spell.


    Consequently, everyone listened intently, grateful for the rare opportunity to learn from a magister¡ªeven if the lesson seemed abstract.


    On the fourth day, Theodore stood expressionless at the podium, drawing a similar circle but positioning the dividing line differently. The red "unknowable" dominated most of the circle, leaving only a thin blue segment.


    "The world is subtle; we cannot comprehend everything¡ªonly gods possess complete knowledge..."


    Later, Richard discovered Theodore wasn''t a mage but a powerful divine caster, roughly equivalent to a Level Sixteen or Seventeen mage. Divine casters in Deepblue were rare, but stranger still was Theodore¡¯s simultaneous devotion to three distinct deities without conflict, enabling him to use spells from three different divine systems¡ªfar surpassing typical casters at the same level. Richard concluded after much thought that the only plausible explanation was deception.


    Deceiving gods¡ªthree at once¡ªrevealed Theodore''s exceptional nature.


    On the fifth day, Tisrifa also drew a circle, mostly blue, immediately identifying him as a mage and a believer in comprehensible truths.


    Richard''s swift judgment proved... somewhat useless.


    On the sixth day, Master Fuja pointed to chaotic numbers:


    "When you find beauty in these numbers, you¡¯ll be halfway successful in mathematics."


    On the seventh day, Master Komu instructed students to discern numbers within intricate, beautiful geometric patterns, essentially translating aesthetics into numbers¡ªa foundational step in planar spatial geometry.


    Thus, Richard became trapped in a cycle: finding beauty in numbers, then extracting numbers from beauty.


    A month quietly slipped by. Little Richard drowned in abstract theories, most seemingly unrelated to practical magic casting and often contradictory. Amidst this vast sea of chaotic information, certain words echoed repeatedly: "special," "Helen Su," "boss," "dominate everything," carving deep impressions into Richard¡¯s mind. All lecturers, from Popovich to Tisrifa, ended lessons with "The world is this simple," almost becoming Deepblue¡¯s unofficial motto.


    "The world is this simple," yet Richard¡¯s thoughts were hopelessly tangled.


    Nonetheless, Richard achieved a genuine breakthrough in magic, albeit unintentionally:


    He learned to conjure a fireball.

 Chapter 12 : Fireball

    To be precise, Richard had learned the spell Fireball¡ªat just Level One.


    Fireball was a legendary third-level spell, unparalleled among the first three tiers, just as Helen Su was unparalleled within Deepblue. There were many legends and proverbs surrounding Fireball; the most famous was probably: "A mage who can only cast Fireball isn''t a good mage." Yet, whichever way one interpreted this saying, it undeniably recognized the unique status of Fireball.


    This proverb emerged because, for low-level mages, Fireball was invaluable. It granted mages below Level Six a tangible presence on battlefields, transforming them from negligible participants into significant threats. Nearly every mage, upon reaching Level Five and gaining access to third-level magic, would first choose Fireball as their primary spell. Its relatively short three-second casting time, effective thirty-meter range, ten-meter destructive radius, and the sheer damage it inflicted¡ªlightly wounding fortunate warriors, gravely injuring typical ones, and outright killing the unlucky¡ªmade it unmatched at its level. Here, "warriors" referred to those Level Five or below, against whom Fireball turned mages into masters of group combat. In contrast, warriors had to painstakingly fight mages one at a time¡ªa dangerous and often fatal pursuit.


    Fireball was so potent that a craze once erupted among lower-ranked mages, all obsessively learning it. This led to the proverb''s creation. The peak of Fireball research emerged when an eighth-level mage published a groundbreaking note: "On the Possibility of Killing a Magister with Five Fireballs."


    This essay changed magical history, containing every element needed for widespread popularity: a shocking title, rigorous logic, and astonishing conclusions. The original title had been "A Preliminary Exploration of the Stacking Effect of Fireball in an Enclosed Space." It concluded that twelve simultaneously cast Fireballs could threaten even an eighteenth-level magister, and under perfect conditions¡ªevery Fireball achieving critical damage in a uniquely shaped, enclosed space with the magister precisely positioned at the focal point of energy reflections¡ªfive Fireballs were theoretically sufficient.


    Initially unnoticed, the essay became sensational when someone renamed it "Kill a Magister with Five Fireballs!"


    Magisters found the article infuriating because, aside from the provocative title, its assumptions were clear, logic precise, and calculations accurate. Its conclusion, while practically improbable, was essentially correct. After all, no magister would willingly remain in a meticulously calculated confined space, letting five Fireball mages attack freely. Furthermore, magisters'' powerful mental strength and precise mana control made critical hits from such low-level spells nearly impossible. Such circumstances required extreme improbability¡ªyet lower-level mages and those with shallow magical knowledge cared little for nuance, fixating solely on "Kill a Magister with Five Fireballs!"


    Magisters found this frustrating but couldn''t reasonably argue with novice mages over such details.


    Excessive obsession with a single spell was detrimental to magical progress. Eventually, a prominent archmage led dozens of mages and hundreds of apprentices in extensive research for nearly three years. Their resulting report concluded that obsessively studying Fireball hindered advancement for some mages, even limiting their ultimate magical potential.


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    This revelation caused an uproar among Fireball-focused mages, sparking fierce disputes over questionable statistical data. Despite being riddled with inaccuracies and logical flaws, these statistics were the only available reference, forcing both supporters and critics to rely upon them. Over time, frequently cited, these flawed statistics gained legitimacy. If reality contradicted them, then reality must be mistaken.


    Ultimately, angry yet powerless, Fireball specialists accepted the reality, genuinely fearing hindered progress. Though the archmage responsible lacked notable stature himself, he represented consensus among high-ranking mages who effectively dictated low-level mages'' futures. Gradually, the Fireball craze subsided, ultimately benefiting magical civilization.


    This entire episode reinforced a critical truth: mage quantity mattered less than level¡ªlevel determined everything.


    Yet, Fireball remained exceptional regardless of people''s objective or biased opinions. Even a Level Twenty archmage confronting thousands of ordinary soldiers would likely instinctively cast a Fireball first. Decades of meticulous research spawned various metamagic techniques¡ªEmpower Spell, Maximize Spell, Quickened Spell, Instant Spell, Silent Spell, Spell Heightening, Precision Control, Spell Delay¡ªall extensively studied specifically for Fireball. Among spells from the first five levels, none rivaled Fireball.


    After the Fireball craze subsided, the low-level mage who initially sparked the debate was immortalized as the "Five Fireball Mage," his true name gradually forgotten.


    Thanks to Deepblue''s extensive library, Richard learned this complicated history alongside mastering Fireball.


    Throughout the month, only three days involved practical magic¡ªclassification, beginner''s magic, and meditation. Beginner''s magic was taught by another magister who largely covered theoretical concepts like elemental balance, leaving students to independently study casting techniques and gestures from provided textbooks. After weeks of observation, Richard realized Deepblue''s mages loved theoretical discussions, enthusiastically diving into abstract principles while dismissing practical spellcasting techniques. Students had to figure out practicalities themselves.


    Elsewhere, such teaching would label mages charlatans or useless theorists. But in Deepblue, theory was highly esteemed. Outstanding theoretical research was a shortcut to Helen Su''s favor. Aside from an elderly history professor, instructors were at least Level Fourteen¡ªhigh enough to silence criticism.


    Richard learned Fireball from the textbook distributed in class. Casting and controlling it wasn''t difficult; its third-level classification primarily stemmed from higher mana demands.


    Every evening, aside from necessary meditation, Richard continuously practiced spells. He mastered all six Level Zero general spells within fifteen days, achieving proficiency through repetition. Concurrently, he reviewed all spells up to third level, systematically understanding low-level magic to wisely select his first-level spell. His intelligence talent accelerated comprehension significantly; after several readings, he grasped fundamentals quickly. Unexpectedly, Richard found Fireball simpler than many first-level spells.


    Indeed, centuries of refinement had perfected Fireball, simplifying its casting precisely because simplicity equated effectiveness.


    Still youthful and intensely curious, Richard''s heart raced uncontrollably when his recent calculations confirmed that his current mana exactly met Fireball¡¯s minimum requirements.

 Chapter 13 : Exploration

    Through Little Richard''s eyes, the world around him had already become digitized. After overcoming the initial confusion, Richard had started to understand how to utilize these numbers. Under the influence of his "Precision" talent, he could accurately perceive the magic energy of an ordinary level-one mage. He defined that standard quantity as "10." By comparison, his current magic energy measured about "8." Although he did not yet grasp the significance of this seemingly endless quantification, this was precisely how the digitization of magical systems began.


    Casting a Fireball spell required "15" units of magic energy, whereas general level-three spells required approximately "20." Richard now understood that Fireball stood out among low-level spells precisely because it offered greater destructive power and simpler casting at lower energy cost. However, he also knew that a certain amount of magic energy would inevitably dissipate or be wasted during the casting process. Moreover, it was dangerous for a mage to fully deplete their magic reserves in one spell, as it could severely harm the body. Thus, Richard instinctively sensed that the standard Fireball had considerable room for improvement.


    After several sleepless nights of experimentation, Little Richard discovered that after multiple refinements, the magic energy consumption of Fireball could actually be reduced to "8," assuming the spellcasting was executed flawlessly without shortening its three-second casting duration. Lowering energy consumption also slightly reduced the Fireball¡¯s power; originally at "15" units, its destructive force would drop to around "10" units at the reduced energy consumption of "8." However, in terms of damage inflicted per unit of magic energy, this optimized Fireball was evidently superior. Even with reduced power, its strength vastly surpassed typical level-one spells, which maxed out at "5" units.


    Curiosity was a dangerous thing¡ªby the second night, Richard attempted his first Fireball, and astonishingly succeeded. His heart nearly stopped as he watched the slightly smaller, vividly crimson Fireball drift slowly towards a steel dummy twenty-five meters away.


    The Fireball exploded spectacularly, flames bursting outward in a fiery ring, sending waves of scorching heat even toward Richard. The steel dummy, designed to match the defensive capabilities of partial plate armor and to measure spell potency, was visibly distorted, bearing lingering magical flames. Clearly, had it been a warrior in partial plate armor standing there, the Fireball would have been fatal.


    Success!


    It was the first spell Little Richard had cast in his life, and a tremendous joy instantly overwhelmed him. He wished to leap in excitement, but instead, his legs buckled beneath him as he slid slowly to the ground. His body felt utterly empty, every muscle disobeying his commands; he couldn''t even lift a finger.


    The price of successfully casting his first real magic was spending the rest of the night lying on the cold floor. Richard tasted for the first time the absolute emptiness of total magic depletion. Completely drained, he couldn¡¯t even meditate and had no choice but to wait passively for his magic energy to regenerate.


    Exactly three hours and six minutes later, his magic energy automatically recovered by "1" unit¡ªanother precise answer given by his talent. Only then could Richard stand and begin to meditate.


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    During these monotonous three hours, Richard found himself meticulously reviewing his magical knowledge. He realized that higher mental strength indeed reduced a spell¡¯s magic consumption. Higher mental strength meant finer control, enabling numerous subtle enhancements to magic. Those Metamagic skills all required sufficient mental strength to wield. For instance, Richard identified at least sixteen areas needing improvement in his Fireball casting: four to save energy, three to boost power, and more. He prioritized energy savings first, diving into lengthy, tedious calculations. It was at this moment that Richard truly appreciated the value of mathematics. After half an hour, he identified one viable improvement, successfully lowering the Fireball¡¯s energy cost to "7" without reducing its power.


    Now he would still be standing after casting, perhaps even able to jog a few steps, rather than collapsing as before. Another benefit of the "Precision" talent was the accurate awareness of his physical condition. If he found a suitable reference, even mental strength could be digitized.


    For the first time, Richard felt genuine joy. He eagerly anticipated his magic energy¡¯s full recovery, excited to test his improvements. The happiness from exploration and discovery felt like a ray of sunlight piercing the gloom that constantly surrounded him. Richard realized, for the first time, just how marvelously intricate the world of magic was, vast enough to spend a lifetime barely scratching its surface.


    As his magic slowly accumulated, finally reaching "1," Richard struggled into the meditation room, consumed a mana recovery potion, and began meditating. Several hours later, as soon as his magic reserves were almost replenished, Richard eagerly rushed out, once again casting a Fireball at the damaged dummy.


    As the Fireball formed between his hands, his magic swiftly drained, leaving him depleted. The trembling Fireball flickered but eventually launched toward the dummy. Again, his experiment succeeded¡ªhis method was effective, though minor emotional fluctuations during casting caused slight imperfections, slightly increasing energy usage. Richard collapsed again but found comfort in knowing the potion accelerated his recovery, needing only an hour''s rest this time.


    He spent that hour in constant calculation. By the time he stood, dawn had broken.


    Today''s lesson was Magical Mathematics, and Richard listened attentively for the first time, genuinely recognizing beauty amidst endless numbers. Unlike Fu Jia¡¯s obsession, Richard genuinely understood mathematics¡¯ practical value¡ªhe lived within numbers, after all.


    Throughout the entire day, his mind ran tirelessly. Though the lesson wasn''t difficult for him, he noted classmates struggling, suggesting perhaps that the wisdom bestowed by the Moon Goddess Elucia indeed played a role.


    It was month''s end. Upon returning to his quarters, the female apprentice who''d once shown him around Deep Blue awaited him by the door. Smiling sweetly, she handed Richard a pale silver metal badge detailing his monthly financial status. It could be inspected on the laboratory¡¯s alchemy table or activated with magic.


    The girl had a charming face and a naturally graceful presence. Richard glanced at her, thanked her briefly, and walked straight through the imposing metallic gates into his area.


    As the heavy metal doors closed, the girl angrily stamped her feet. She briefly considered blasting the doors open with magic, but knowing the anti-magic alloys and protective enchantments, realized even a level-six Disintegration would fail. Even empty land here was priceless.


    "That jerk! We''ve met twice, and he never even asked my name!" the girl muttered furiously. Then, recalling Richard''s mere ten years of age¡ªfar too young for romance yet old for magic initiation¡ªshe sighed helplessly, turning away bitterly. Yet competition was fierce in Deep Blue, and if she waited until Richard was fully grown, her chance might already be lost.

 Chapter 14 : Helen Sus Joy

    Richard went directly to the laboratory and inserted the metal badge into the alchemy platform. A clear magical projection appeared, detailing Richard¡¯s financial statement for the month. The alchemy platform was powered by mana crystals, whereas activating the badge alone would require five mana points. Richard wanted to save every bit of mana for spell practice rather than waste it on badge activation.


    The very first line on the statement stunned Richard: ¡°Replacement of Magical Golem Dummy ¨C 1,600 gold.¡±


    The magical golem dummy was the iron construct Richard used to practice Fireball and other spells. He had already noticed a new dummy installed on the testing field, but he never imagined it would cost 1,600 gold. Although Richard didn''t have much sense of money, he knew that his mother had lived for ten years in Rooseland Village and had accumulated only a few dozen gold coins in total. Even a large beast¡¯s hide would fetch only one or two gold coins in town, and hunters risked their lives to obtain it. Perhaps the wealthiest villager¡ªthe village chief¡ªmight possess around a hundred gold coins, much of it saved from military pay and bounties.


    Two fireballs¡ªand he''d destroyed 1,600 gold?


    He mentally reviewed every detail of the dummy. Apart from precisely matching the defensive capability of standard half-plate armor, he couldn¡¯t see anything exceptional about it. Richard had yet to grasp that the golem¡¯s precision was exactly what drove its staggering cost. Standard magical dummies and military half-plate armor might vary by one or two power levels in defense, while Deep Blue¡¯s golems had accuracy within one-tenth of a power level. Such precision increased costs nearly thirtyfold. The concept of power levels roughly correlated to the energy contained in a standard level-one Magic Missile spell.


    Cold sweat trickled down Richard¡¯s forehead as the enormous numbers pressed heavily upon him. Rooseland Village shared the Sacred Alliance¡¯s currency system, so 1,600 gold was a debt he felt he could never repay. He disliked debts, a trait inherited from Elaine¡ªpriestesses of the Moon Goddess avoided owing anyone anything. Overwhelmed by pressure, Richard¡¯s vision darkened briefly before he steadied himself and continued down the list. As he expected, every item listed was outrageously expensive. For instance, a single mana recovery potion cost nearly 500 gold. Richard¡¯s perception of the rows of potions in the storage room completely shifted. Those labeled potions were primarily used by mages to accelerate magical growth, enhancing mana affinity and recovery.


    Before entering Deep Blue, Richard had spent over a month learning about the outside world. In the city of Ashan, prices had already shocked him¡ªbut compared to Deep Blue, Ashan seemed practically free. A mana recovery potion in Ashan was only about 10 gold, whereas here it was 500 gold, fifty times more expensive.


    Richard didn¡¯t realize, however, that Ashan¡¯s potion lasted only three hours with a recovery acceleration of 0.5 times. The potion he''d consumed lasted 24 hours, doubling recovery speed¡ªa sixteen-fold improvement in overall effectiveness, explaining the fifty-fold price increase.


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    From advancing levels to potion-making, progress grew exponentially harder and more expensive. The pyramid structure of achievement was universally applicable, and Richard''s new understanding reflected a concept he¡¯d recently learned: diminishing returns.


    At the bottom of the first page, Richard saw his monthly expenditure total: 18,000 gold.


    The second page detailed income, and Richard saw only one entry: ¡°Tuition Subsidy ¨C 30,000 gold.¡±


    Richard had somewhat adapted to large numbers by now, but the scale of the subsidy still left him stunned.


    Never mind 30,000 gold¡ªjust yesterday, 30 gold alone was a sum beyond Richard¡¯s wildest imagination. Mountain life had been self-sufficient; aside from cloth, Richard couldn''t even think of anything else requiring money.


    But 30,000 gold¡­ ¡°Enough to carpet the entire laboratory,¡± he thought dizzily.


    Yet when Richard glanced around the laboratory, an exact figure instantly appeared in his mind: precisely 333,300 gold coins would cover its floor.


    Richard shook his head vigorously, banishing these distracting numbers. Thirty thousand or three hundred thousand¡ªit made no difference. Both were equally unfathomable.


    And the 30,000-gold subsidy was merely a beginning. Several blank income categories remained on the second page, their future use implied by their vague titles. The last one baffled him, labeled simply: ¡°Su Helen¡¯s Joy.¡± What kind of income was that?


    Calming himself, Richard realized the 30,000-gold subsidy wasn¡¯t extravagant at all. Expenses in Deep Blue were practically infinite. This was only his first month, and most of it had been spent in classes. He¡¯d barely practiced spells for a week, using minimal resources, yet his expenses had already hit 18,000 gold. Maintaining a balanced budget next month would be challenging enough, and by the third month, 30,000 gold would certainly fall short.


    Richard didn¡¯t dwell on it further. While he still struggled with comprehending money, he recognized that every day in Deep Blue consumed vast resources. Despite the generous subsidy, Richard knew this wasn''t free. The surface reason for his admission was Marquis Gordon¡¯s considerable effort, but the deeper truth was Elaine¡¯s sacrifice¡ªher life traded for this rare opportunity. History and politics were essential lessons at Deep Blue, and Richard had gained a basic understanding of Norland. A personal apprenticeship under a legendary mage was a dream coveted by the Empire''s elite. Marquis Gordon wasn''t especially powerful or influential, so obtaining such an opportunity must have cost him far more than it would other nobles.


    Exploration in the world of magic was limitless. Richard silently terminated the magical projection to conserve mana crystals, carefully placing the badge in clear view. He had committed every income and expense to memory, more firmly than any memory spell, and quickly returned to his studies.


    Two months passed quickly. Immersed daily in magic and numbers, Richard hardly noticed time slipping by. Now proficient with both his Wisdom and Precision talents, he appreciated the tangible benefits hidden within the digitized world. For instance, he could immediately assess others¡¯ strengths. Minnie and Randolph, Su Helen¡¯s other students, were level five and six mages respectively at only fourteen years old. Minnie¡¯s mana was 70, while Randolph reached an impressive 110¡ªcomparable to a level-seven mage. Their mana far exceeded peers, granting more spell slots and an undeniable advantage. Moreover, disciples of Su Helen possessed extraordinary bloodlines, which often determined outcomes in high-level battles.


    Yet, each morning, flames would flash before Richard¡¯s eyes, his mother''s silhouette within them. Sometimes blood stained his blankets, the result of biting his lips in troubled sleep.

 Chapter 15: Rune Grafts

    In his studies, Richard found he excelled particularly in everything related to numbers, diagrams, and precise control. Complex formulas seemed almost intuitively straightforward to him. However, the more he learned, the more he felt overwhelmed by the vast mysteries of the magical world, highlighting his own ignorance.


    Richard was extremely focused and could endure solitude. Now, his life revolved solely around magic, with nothing else occupying his time.


    Winter arrived before he knew it. Richard was completely unaware when the first snow began to drift down. Though the weather outside had turned frigid, the climate within Deepblue remained as warm as spring. After months living continuously inside Deepblue, he had even grown accustomed to the environment filled everywhere with the soft glow of magical lights.


    Late one night, a shining meteor streaked through the snowy mist, descending from afar to land atop Deepblue''s highest platform. Three magisters, leading as many as twenty other mages, were already waiting respectfully, utterly disregarding the cold wind and falling snow.


    The fiery light dissipated with a soft pop, revealing Helen Su''s petite figure. Immediately, two young female mages draped a fur cloak over her shoulders. Another four mages unrolled a crimson carpet before her feet. The carpet constantly unfurled ahead of her, while mages behind rolled it up after she passed. Along the entire long path from the landing platform to the residential area, Helen¡¯s feet never actually touched the ground.


    The three magisters hurried to flank Helen, softly and rapidly reporting on Deepblue''s affairs during her absence. Helen listened lazily, seemingly with little interest. However, when the third magister reported on teaching and student progress, her eyes suddenly lit up. ¡°You mean that little Richard shows talent in magic formations?¡±


    Caught under her bright gaze, the magister, whose beard was already nearly white, tensed up, immediately breaking into a cold sweat. High-level mages knew that being scrutinized by a legendary mage was an unpleasant sensation, akin to a frog being eyed by a snake. The disparity in mental strength subjected lower-level mages to immense pressure, almost like being struck by Dragon''s Might. He hadn''t expected Helen to pay attention to such a minor matter. Fortunately, he was well-prepared and quickly produced two sketches of magic formations drawn by Richard, handing them to Helen.


    Helen¡¯s eyes locked onto the sketches, instantly captivated. Her steps unknowingly slowed, and finally, she stopped altogether, examining the two drafts over and over.


    Cold sweat continued to bead uncontrollably on the magister beside her. In his eyes, these sketches were utterly ordinary, merely two basic introductory magic formations in standard format, devoid of any innovation. In truth, such entry-level formations were simple in structure, clear in principle, and limited in function; there was neither room nor necessity for innovation or improvement. Richard had drawn the standard versions taught in class. The only reason he had singled this out for Helen was because she had previously shown immense interest in Richard, even spending the entire duration of his tests in the monitoring room.


    That was several hours! Several hours of prime plane time!


    The preciousness of a legendary mage¡¯s time needed no elaboration. Thus, he had gauged the extent of Helen''s regard for Richard and had been monitoring him closely ever since. Now that Richard had made a tiny bit of progress, he reported it as something significant. Essentially, the magister was merely trying to curry Helen''s favor¡ªafter all, "Helen Su''s Joy" was always the most crucial item on his monthly income statement.


    In reality, it truly was just a tiny bit of progress. Richard''s drawings contained no errors, but that counted for little. Any well-trained mage rarely made mistakes when drawing standard magic formations. What was somewhat remarkable was that Richard, on his first attempt at practicing these drawings, had made no mistakes at all. Still, among those capable of becoming grand magisters, who wasn''t a figure of astounding talent? In this grand magister¡¯s eyes, such a minor achievement wasn''t worth mentioning. Of course, the absolute error between the two formations and the standard versions was astonishingly small, almost unbelievably so. But drawing magic formations wasn''t like machining alchemical components; precision only needed to meet the standard. Anything higher was meaningless. If an error of 1 millimeter didn''t affect the formation''s efficacy, why strive for under 10 micrometers?


    If Richard had shown some innovation on these two basic formations, then he would have taken notice. But independently innovating magic formations was beyond the capability of any mage below Level Ten.


    However, Helen had studied them for so long. Even if this grand magister were a complete idiot, he would know these sketches weren''t so simple. Yet, he truly couldn''t discern what was special about them.


    "Truly excellent!" Helen exclaimed joyously, reaching out to pat the magister''s shoulder. But she was small, and the magister very tall, making it awkward for her. The magister instantly, discreetly bent down, allowing her to pat him easily.


    Slap! Helen¡¯s delicate little hand struck the magister¡¯s shoulder heavily. He immediately felt as if struck by a dragon''s claw and was irresistibly knocked to the ground!


    Helen gasped, "Ah!" With a wave of her hand, a magical water shield enveloped the magister, floating him up from the ground. "I got too excited just now, hit a bit hard."


    "Not hard, not hard at all, just right!" The magister¡¯s old face bloomed into a smile like a flower battered by wind and rain.


    Waving the two sketches in her hand, Helen became cheerful again. "I didn''t expect you''d be able to see how extraordinary these sketches are. Hahaha! Haven''t seen you for a while, and you''ve gotten smarter! What have you been eating lately?"


    "It is all thanks to your guidance," the magister replied with humble deference, smiling as if declining credit, giving no hint that he had absolutely no idea what was so special about the sketches. Having reached his current position, he was no simple character. But the magister''s heart inevitably beat a little faster; Helen''s unrestrained, brazen laughter was a sign. It meant that on this month''s ledger, under the entry "Helen Su''s Joy," there would be a conspicuous number.


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    Like a little girl eager to share, Helen couldn¡¯t suppress her excitement. She showed the sketches to the three grand magisters beside her, saying, "Look, these two sketches are practically identical to the standard versions!" She specifically emphasized the word identical. As the three magisters looked at the sketches again, expressions of realization finally dawned on their faces.


    "The deviation between these two sketches and the standard versions is within 0.01 centimeters, and the error is incredibly consistent. Such precision and stability are only achievable by grand mages above Level Ten who have undergone long-term, rigorous training. And Richard? He''s just a Level One mage apprentice," Helen continued.


    One magister instantly understood. "This is a rarely seen talent! And he also has excellent mental strength¡­"


    Another magister quickly added, "His talents are excellent across the board, with no clear weaknesses¡­"


    The third, the one who had handed Helen the sketches, drew a sharp breath and said in a tone of disbelief, "Have we found a future Rune Graft Master?!"


    "Exactly!" Helen beamed.


    As humanity''s ultimate military power, Rune Knights were a general term encompassing various specializations like archers, shieldbearers, armor-breakers, and even magic-attack mages. Their essential trait was carrying at least three rune constructs. A moderate rune construct could potentially increase a melee fighter¡¯s combat effectiveness by thirty percent. Thus, Level Thirteen or Fourteen Rune Knights could rival the combat power of warriors around Level Seventeen, and their impact on the battlefield was even greater. The professional system was a pyramid; the higher the rank, the rarer the individuals. The number of Level Eighteen combat professionals was extremely limited; they were powerhouses sought after by all factions, none of whom would join an army as cannon fodder. Yet, Rune Knights, whose individual combat strength was not much inferior to these Saint-level experts, could charge and fight in formation on the battlefield, naturally becoming a force capable of turning the tide.


    Ever since Rune Knights appeared on the battlefield, every renowned military commander shared the same maxim: Only Rune Knights can counter Rune Knights.


    The ones who created this miracle were the Rune Grafts.


    Saint-level experts were few, but high-level warriors around Level Thirteen or Fourteen, if not innumerable, were certainly plentiful. Yet, the total number of Rune Knights in the Sacred Alliance Empire consistently hovered around a thousand, never exceeding three thousand even at its glorious peak. The bottleneck lay firmly in the number of Rune Grafts.


    If Rune Knights were a strategic force and legendary mages a strategic deterrent, then Rune Grafts were the builders of strategic advantage. However, the requirements to become a Rune Graft were extremely demanding, necessitating extraordinary magical aptitude, superb control and creativity, and immense patience. Many Rune Knights had limited surface area capable of bearing runes. Rune Grafts often needed to condense large magic formations into palm-sized areas, then tattoo them onto specialized components or directly onto the Rune Knight''s body. The works of high-level Rune Grafts were already so intricate and detailed that ordinary people could barely discern them with the naked eye. Crafting those powerful, large-scale constructs often took months.


    To date, the Sacred Alliance Empire, one of the three major human empires, possessed barely ten Rune Grafts in total, including even the most junior ones. Each was fiercely competed for by the imperial family and major regional nobles. Even a single junior Rune Graft signified a small squad of Rune Knights a decade later. For any ruler, this was an irresistible temptation. The status of a high-level Rune Graft was scarcely lower than that of a legendary mage.


    And through these two sketches, Richard had precisely demonstrated the most crucial talent of a Rune Graft: meticulous precision.


    Holding the two sketches, Helen found them increasingly pleasing the more she looked, her laughter growing louder and more unrestrained. The bold, bright sound traveled further and further, not only filling the entire top floor of the magic tower but also showing signs of permeating downwards.


    "This woman¡­"


    Though this thought might have crossed the minds of all three magisters, outwardly they uniformly laughed along with Helen, their joy appearing genuine and natural, as if the future Rune Graft Richard were their own beloved son.


    "I really can''t help but laugh!" Helen suddenly exclaimed, then continued to roar with laughter.


    Helen had no desire for worldly power; Rune Knights held no attraction for her. The three magisters, having followed Helen for a long time, knew the reason for her exuberant laughter: she had finally become a Rune Graft''s teacher. In her mind, this was equivalent to trampling all other Rune Grafts underfoot. Although Helen''s previous students had all been magical geniuses, not a single Rune Graft had emerged among them, leaving her deeply resentful. That Rune Graft who had offended her back then had now become a Grand Rune Graft, a national treasure of the Sacred Tree Dynasty, one of the three major empires. Even as a legendary mage, Helen could do nothing to him; they could only despise each other from afar across vast distances. Thus, the grudge had festered to this day. Now, with Richard, Helen could finally fulfill her long-held wish. It remained uncertain, however, just how she would pour her overwhelming "joy" onto poor little Richard.


    This was pure wishful thinking, yet no one would be foolish enough to point it out, unless they no longer desired "Helen Su''s Joy."


    The legendary mage finally managed to stop laughing. Her expression suddenly turned stern and extremely serious. "Starting today, fully support Richard¡¯s development into a Rune Graft! Also, this matter must be kept confidential. Besides you all, I don''t want anyone else to know!"


    The three magisters, along with the other mages, all grumbled silently in their hearts. Helen''s laughter had just permeated several floors of the magic tower, and it wouldn''t be long before she couldn''t contain her smugness and would broadcast the matter to the world. But for now, everyone loudly agreed, their faces solemn and earnest.


    It was the end of the month. At dusk, an exhausted Richard returned to his quarters. The young girl was already waiting at the door and, as usual, handed Richard his ledger badge. Richard, also as usual, didn''t ask her name.


    On the alchemy workbench, Richard activated the badge and quickly scanned the ledger contents. As he had expected, with the gradual expansion of his magic studies, related expenses had risen sharply. Last month''s income and expenses had balanced, but this month''s expenditures already exceeded the monthly subsidy of thirty thousand, completely consuming the surplus saved from the first month. Next month, Richard would face a dilemma: either slow down his training pace or find a way to earn more money. Yet, apart from the fixed study subsidy, he had no idea how to make money. Richard was, after all, only ten years old and barely a Level One mage. Outside, Level One was considered an official mage, but within Deepblue, anyone below Level Three was called a magic apprentice.


    Just as Richard was worrying about balancing next month''s budget, he suddenly noticed an additional line beneath his subsidy.


    It read "Helen Su''s Joy," amount: 500,000 gold coins.


    The legendary mage''s joy was indeed valuable! This was the sole coherent thought remaining in Richard''s instantly blank mind.

 Chapter 16: Art

    Life within Deepblue was intense yet orderly. Time slipped away unnoticed, almost in a daze. Richard remained Richard, his life largely unchanged, except that inexplicable streams of income began appearing sporadically on his monthly ledger, with "Helen Su''s Joy" consistently being the largest contribution. Richard never understood how he brought Helen "joy," but every time he saw the ledger, he tangibly felt the weighty value of the legendary mage''s happiness. At the very least, if a Grand Magister desired such "joy," they would likely go bankrupt before long.


    Although Helen remained perpetually joyous, Richard consistently only managed to break even financially. A mage''s training consumed resources on a scale unimaginable to ordinary people, practically without limit. Furthermore, Richard¡¯s recently received course schedule had changed. Besides the large lectures open to everyone¡ªlike Magical Philosophy, Continental Politics, and Introduction to Alchemy¡ªthe number of small-group courses on his schedule had suddenly increased dramatically. Sometimes, when he entered the classroom at the designated time, he would discover he was the only student for certain subjects.


    This was definitely not a good thing! At least, that¡¯s how Richard saw it. Every instructing magister received corresponding payment, and according to regulations, this payment was shared among all students attending the class. Being tutored alone meant Richard had to bear the entire cost of the instructor''s fee himself. Consequently, the expenditure items on his monthly ledger were also rapidly ballooning.


    However, Richard noticed that after the legendary mage''s first instance of joy, the attention he received from those around him suddenly increased significantly. People frequently pointed at him while passing by, during chance encounters, or even in class, subsequently whispering amongst themselves. Richard''s perception wasn''t yet strong enough to discern the content of their conversations, nor did he care to. But this constant feeling of being watched made young Richard feel ill at ease all over.


    The legendary mage''s so-called strict secrecy had lasted less than a week before she herself told her inner circle about taking a future Rune Graft as her student. These individuals couldn''t hold out for a full month before relaying the news to their own trusted confidants. This cycle repeated, and in less than two months, the entire Deepblue knew that a future Rune Graft was emerging. Although the future held infinite uncertainty, since this evaluation came from Helen Su, it was considered infallibly correct. Even if some harbored doubts, none would be foolish enough to voice them. Idiots who always spoke the truth would be dealt with by plenty of others eager to curry "Helen Su''s Joy," without the legendary mage needing to lift a finger.


    Thus, by now, only one person in the entire Deepblue didn''t know who that future Rune Graft was: the poorly informed Richard himself. Of course, Richard wasn''t entirely oblivious to the anomalies. For instance, he didn''t know why, but courses related to magic formations¡ªmathematics, geometry, composition, aesthetics¡ªhad suddenly multiplied in his schedule. Some courses, even if they started with classmates in the foundational sections, eventually dwindled until he was the sole student. However, Richard¡¯s reaction to these anomalies was merely a slight worry about the increased expenses the courses implied.


    Recently, Richard¡¯s schedule underwent another change: painting tutorials began to increase substantially, starting with the basics of sketching. Richard embarked on learning yet another entirely new field. But the homework he submitted consistently left the Grand Painter, once renowned throughout Norland, at a loss whether to laugh or cry. Each of Richard''s sketches was precise to the extreme, leaving the master unable to find a single flaw. But where was the spirit? Painting was art, not simple reproduction of reality. Yet, if the reproduction of reality reached a point indistinguishable from reality itself, could that too be called a form of art? So, every time this Grand Painter saw Richard''s work, his chest tightened with the urge to vomit blood. Those drawings, accurate to a hundredth of a centimeter, felt like massive stones crashing heavily onto his chest, crushing his faith in and understanding of art again and again.


    How could it be so precise! How?!


    Yet, from beginning to end, the Grand Painter couldn''t utter a single word of rebuke. While Richard''s drawings didn''t conform to conventional artistic principles, anything pushed to an extreme could be considered a kind of art. Moreover, as a Level Fifteen Grand Mage himself, the painter understood that while Richard might lack artistic sensibility, for a mage, especially a Rune Graft, such precision was a unique and unparalleled talent. Therefore, he absolutely couldn''t say anything inappropriate. After all, no matter how passionate he was about art, he couldn''t ignore the weight of "Helen Su''s Joy." Just as a building needs a foundation, art needs bread and gold coins for sustenance.


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    And if his preferences ruined a future Saint Rune Graft, what he would face then would be "Helen Su''s Fury." Just imagining that potential prospect made this fastidious Grand Mage and Grand Painter prefer being violated by Polar Greydwarves.


    Richard, meanwhile, occasionally fretted over his ledger. He now had many more "assignments." On average, each night required him to complete one small painting, two to five magic formation decomposition diagrams, and a large volume of planar geometry homework. Setting aside the difficulty of the content, the crucial point was the exorbitant cost of the stationery required. First were the writing tools, consuming vast quantities of special magic paper¡ªlike Star-Patterned Paper, Moon-Marked Paper, Abyssal Nightmare Cloth, etc.¡ªand various inks, ranging from common Shadow Ink to Lolthian Hell Blood. Anyway, the common feature of these materials was their expense, and generally, the longer the name, the pricier they were. As for planar geometry, due to its three-dimensional composition, it had to be completed using the magical projections of an experimental alchemy table, consuming a quantity of mana crystals Richard no longer had the heart to calculate. All in all, he often saw attendants carrying in boxes of brand-new mana crystals and carrying out the empty ones.


    If not for the continued sustenance from the legendary mage''s joy, Richard truly didn''t know how he would carry on. Even now, he was barely managing to maintain a balance between income and expenditure. He faced a similar deficit regarding the use of his time. Besides classes and homework, he also needed to meditate and practice magic techniques. The time currently allocated to this part had already been compressed to the absolute limit; reducing it further would genuinely impact the growth of his own mana.


    When setting the expected rate of mana growth, Richard used the average level observed among low-level mages as his benchmark, not comparing himself to outliers like Minnie. Even just maintaining a basic rate of magical progress required relying on mana recovery potions. At 500 gold coins per vial, one potion a day amounted to fifteen thousand gold coins a month. Another hefty expense.


    There was too little time. The only option left for Richard was to cut down on sleep. But he was at a crucial stage of growth. The specially prepared food supplied daily contained the flesh and blood of several rare magical beasts, meant to condense essence blood and accelerate physical development. To fully utilize the medicinal effects of such special ingredients, sufficient sleep was essential. Fortunately, Deepblue offered many methods for shallow meditation during sleep. Although the effects were limited, it was better than nothing.


    The problem Richard now faced was having too many things to do and too little time. How to allocate limited time and resources to achieve maximum overall effect was clearly a mathematical problem. And the difficulty of this problem increased linearly with the number of variables. Richard spent four full days meticulously sorting through his tasks, categorizing them, listing necessary steps, pushing his intellect talent to its limit, and calculating the optimal allocation of materials, time, and actions before finally solving the problem that had been troubling him. Those four days were extremely worthwhile because as soon as the plan took shape, his ''Precision'' talent immediately generated a comparison of the new and old plans'' efficiency. Without optimizing for maximum overall effect, Richard would have wasted more time within a month than the total sum of those four days.


    But this way, Richard found himself living like the most precise alchemical machine. Yet, what did it matter? His world had already become digitized; he didn''t mind his life becoming a bit more mechanical.


    Thus, amidst a life as precise as a magic clock, Richard welcomed his first spring in Deepblue, and also his eleventh birthday. That morning, he stood before the mirror, looking at his reflection.


    Facing him was already a young adolescent. Because children from the mountains often grew taller, and the specially supplied food had accelerated and solidified this growth process, Richard was now more than half a head taller than his peers, looking more like thirteen or fourteen. His face had almost completely shed its childishness, and his calm eyes could easily be mistaken for those of an adult. Perhaps due to experiencing too many upheavals, or perhaps inherited from his father Gorton''s bloodline, the contours of Richard''s face already had hints of hard lines, lending him a somewhat masculine air. On the other hand, his features more strongly inherited the traits characteristic of Silvermoon Elves: long, slightly curved eyes, delicate yet distinct, well-defined eyebrows, and a high, straight nose¡ªall features typically found only among high-born pure-blooded High Elves. Richard didn''t care much about his appearance, but the extensive painting and aesthetics courses had made him understand that his looks weren''t bad¡­


    They were very rare¡­ his ''Precision'' talent immediately corrected his erroneous thought.


    But so what? Young Richard thought nothing of it. Half a year of intensive education had deeply imprinted the Deepblue philosophy onto his thinking: Power is everything, and beautiful things are merely appendages of power, just as beautiful women are essential medals for important figures.


    Of course, his ever-expanding knowledge also let Richard know that, often, handsome men were even rarer medals.


    Regardless, this year Richard turned eleven. Children in the mountains matured early; it wasn''t unheard of for them to start families at twelve. Recalling the first ten years of his life, whenever it was his birthday, Elani would summarize the past year for him, telling him what he had gained. But this year?


    On his eleventh birthday, all Richard had was a mirror reflecting himself, and the unquenchable, blazing fire in his memory.

 Chapter 17: Duel

    Another achievement was Richard¡¯s successful improvement to the standard Fireball spell: he had shortened the incantation time by half a second. This was the first, and most crucial, step towards an instant-cast Fireball. Since it wasn''t a standard spell-quickening technique, it signified that Richard''s understanding of the relevant magical principles had reached a new level. If he could later master Spell Empowering or even Spell Maximizing, Richard would possess the signature magic of powerful mages: the "Instant Great Fireball."


    Richard began carefully arranging his appearance in the mirror; those with elven blood naturally paid close attention to their looks. Today, Richard had planned a special outing for himself. He had ordered a bouquet of pure white flowers, intending to scatter them from Deepblue''s upper open-air platform. It was said that the top of Deepblue neared the trade wind belt. Theoretically, if these flowers were thrown high enough and were sufficiently lucky, the perpetually blowing trade winds could carry them hundreds of kilometers away.


    Richard hoped his mother, in heaven, would be able to see them.


    As usual, Richard left his residential area, carrying the ordered bouquet, and walked towards the teleportation array leading to Deepblue''s upper levels. The teleportation array could transport over a dozen people to a designated floor at once, making it the most convenient and fastest mode of transport¡ªof course, its expense was another defining feature.


    As Richard approached the teleportation array, several young magic apprentices were already standing beside it. Among them were a few familiar faces from classes he had attended. The others, Richard had never seen before. They seemed to have been waiting for something. When Richard stepped into the teleportation array, they appeared to change their minds and crowded in together. The array wasn''t large, and with several people already inside, it became quite cramped. After a few seconds of swaying, the feeling of encompassing restraint vanished¡ªthe sign of arrival. As the magical light screen descended, Richard had reached the twentieth floor of Deepblue. Here, he needed to transfer to another teleportation array to reach the fortieth floor, repeating the process until his destination, the Grand Terrace on the eightieth floor.


    Just as Richard stepped out of the light screen, a sharp pain shot through his rear¡ªhe had been kicked hard! Caught completely off guard, Richard cried out, instinctively lunging forward, only to have his feet violently tripped by an obstacle. He tumbled heavily, sliding several meters across the mirror-like black stone floor before stopping. The intense pain throughout his body momentarily prevented him from getting up, and the sudden impact left his head slightly dizzy. But the bursts of mocking laughter from behind made him realize he had just been pranked.


    That vile, underhanded sneak attack wasn''t what bothered Richard most. It was the bouquet he had been holding for his mother, which had flown from his grasp when he fell, landing three or five steps away. Not only had several petals fallen off, but the bound stems were also in danger of completely coming apart. Greatly alarmed, Richard scrambled up and rushed over to retrieve the bouquet. These were his mother''s favorite flowers before she died. They weren''t a rare variety, but they were uncommon in the North, far from his mountain village. He had placed a special order with the florist a month in advance to receive them precisely today.


    But just as his hand was about to touch the bouquet, another hand snatched it up first.


    Richard froze instantly, slowly straightening up and looking forward. Standing before him was an adolescent mage, about fourteen or fifteen years old. He was half a head taller than Richard, his face a mask of arrogance and mockery. Dressed in an apprentice''s robe, he was tilting his head, examining the bouquet in his hand. He was one of the young apprentices who had been waiting by the teleportation array earlier, and now appeared to be their leader. The other young apprentices also approached in twos and threes, subtly encircling Richard.


    Even if Richard were slow-witted, he understood now that these people had come specifically for him. What he didn''t understand was how he could have provoked them, having been immersed in the world of magic and interacting with almost no one besides his instructors. Richard was certain he had never spoken a single word to any of these young apprentices. However, the exceptional memory granted by his intellect allowed Richard to vaguely recall that the boy before him was named Papan, seemingly from a minor noble family in the Sacred Alliance. He had some magical talent but wasn''t particularly outstanding within Deepblue; otherwise, Richard would surely remember more details. As for his mana level... In Richard''s vision, the numbers representing Papan''s mana fluctuated constantly¡ªhis Precision talent automatically calculating Papan''s total mana based on his fluctuations¡ªfinally settling on the number 15. Thus, Richard knew this Papan was already a Level Two mage, at least in terms of mana reserves.


    Papan turned the messy bouquet over and over in his hands, even shaking it forcefully. Besides dislodging more petals and leaves, he didn''t seem to find anything interesting. He then glanced sidelong at Richard, his arrogance laced with frivolity. "So you''re that Richard? Can''t really see what''s so special about you, that the great Lady Helen would take you as her disciple. But honestly, you do have a pretty nice ass!"


    The apprentice boys immediately burst into laughter. They clearly had experience and understood the implication. Even without experience, Richard could easily grasp it from their lewd gazes. His face flushed crimson, but his resolve allowed him to restrain his anger. He said, word by word, "Give me back the flowers!"


    "Aha, flowers! I almost forgot about this thing!" Papan exclaimed exaggeratedly. He then made a show of looking at the bouquet again, even sticking out his tongue to give it a heavy lick before saying, "Is this thing important to you? Let me guess, must be for some woman, right? I say, little Richard, I seriously doubt you''ve even started growing hair down there, and you''re already learning from other men to give flowers to women? That''s not good. Who are you giving them to? Maybe I can help you out! See, I''m a really nice guy, love helping people! But speaking of which, this bouquet is really ugly, all messed up like this." He shook the bouquet forcefully again, sending more petals and leaves fluttering down. "Looks like something you''d give to a whore..."


    "Give them back!" Richard''s voice was low, like the growl of a young lion.


    "Ah! So you really like this thing..." Papan bowed slightly, bringing his face close to little Richard''s, but his hand loosened, letting the bouquet fall to the ground. Before Richard could react, a nearby apprentice stomped heavily on it, then ground his heel into it several times.


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    White petals scattered across the floor, damaged beyond repair. More petals groaned beneath the apprentice''s shoe.


    Richard¡¯s reaction surprised everyone. He didn''t rush forward to protect the bouquet first, nor did he try to stop the apprentice. Instead, his body leaned back, then snapped forward like a fully drawn bow, his hard forehead smashing violently into Papan''s still-smiling face!


    The area before the teleportation array was a main thoroughfare, so quite a few people had gradually gathered nearby. Besides a sound like crushing berries, onlookers heard the distinct crunch and crackle of breaking bone. Seeing Richard''s headbutt, some of the more timid onlookers felt their own noses begin to tingle sympathetically.


    Papan¡¯s vision suddenly went black, then was filled with reds, yellows, and all sorts of colors. The world spun, and for a moment, he had no idea where he was. In the instant the other boys stood stunned, Richard had already lunged onto Papan, grabbing his hair with both hands. Using his entire body weight as leverage, he pulled Papan''s body airborne, while his hands held Papan''s head firmly, aiming to smash that already blurry face viciously against the incredibly hard ground!


    If that blow landed squarely, Papan''s skull would crack!


    However, in Deepblue, teeming with mages, such a vicious incident naturally wouldn''t be allowed to happen. Two Level Six "Physical Immunity Shields" simultaneously appeared around Richard and Papan. The repulsive force between the shields sent Richard and Papan bouncing apart like colliding spheres.


    Mages capable of instantly casting Level Six spells were at least Level Fourteen Grand Mages. Sure enough, two middle-aged mages walked over, their faces grim. "What happened?" one asked.


    The Physical Immunity Shield was incredibly effective. Unless it absorbed enough damage, it would only dissipate when its duration expired or it was dispelled. Encased within the shield, Richard''s eyes were bloodshot. He was desperately attacking the shield, trying to break free, completely ignoring the middle-aged mage''s question.


    In the other shield, Papan finally recovered from his daze. Recalling the recent events, he felt both fear and fury. An almost unbearable pain radiated from his nose. He raised a trembling hand to touch it; the mangled sensation nearly made Papan faint for real. His face, which he had always been proud of, was ruined! This realization almost drove Papan insane, temporarily suppressing even the sensation of pain. He pointed at Richard and screamed maniacally, "Bastard! Do you dare have a magic duel with me?! The loser has to lick the winner''s ass!"


    Hearing Papan''s shouts, Richard actually calmed down. He stopped attacking the shield, even casually smoothing the sleeve that had rolled up his arm. With a solemn expression and a composure belying his age, he said, "I accept!"


    "No!" The middle-aged mage who had separated them frowned and started to object. But the other mage tugged at his robe and said, "Let them go!"


    The first mage paused, lowering his voice slightly. "But Richard is Her Ladyship''s student..."


    The second mage smiled faintly and whispered back, "The challenger is Papan. He''s one of Randolph''s little followers. Randolph is also Her Ladyship''s student. So I think the magic duel was Papan''s real intention; the idiot just nearly botched it."


    The first mage understood. "This is a matter between Her Ladyship''s students. We don''t need to get involved. Alright, let''s proceed according to the rules!"


    It was a tradition in Deepblue: if an irreconcilable conflict arose between two parties, besides overwhelming them with gold coins, overwhelming them with magic was equally effective. If one party proposed a magic duel, the other agreed, and there was no obvious disparity in strength, the duel was sanctioned and conducted under the supervision of Deepblue''s Enforcement Mages. Magic duels had designated venues and assigned resident mages for protection. Using the dueling arena required a hefty deposit beforehand to cover potential damage to the facilities. The resident mage''s primary duty was to protect both duelists, as the principle of magic duels was non-lethality.


    Of course, absolute fairness didn''t exist. For instance, Papan''s registered information listed him as a Level One mage, but his mana had actually reached the standard of a Level Two mage.


    Half an hour later, Richard and Papan stood at opposite ends of the dueling arena, twenty meters apart. Papan''s injuries had received basic treatment; aside from a pale complexion, his earlier battered state was no longer visible. His blood-stained robe had been replaced with a new one, though the half-collapsed bridge of his nose looked decidedly unnatural.


    Although it was just a magic duel between Level One mages, news of the earlier conflict had spread surprisingly quickly. Due to Richard''s special status, many people had come to watch. The stands, capable of seating two hundred, were completely full. The spectators appeared relaxed, greeting acquaintances and chatting casually, seemingly not treating the upcoming duel as a major event. A fight between Level One magic apprentices offered little spectacle; even if both stood still and bombarded each other with Level One spells without defense, neither would die. Besides, with their mana, they could cast at most three Level One spells each.


    In truth, most attendees harbored the thought of seeing just what was so extraordinary about Richard that Helen Su would accept him as an apprentice. If Richard were to make a fool of himself, that would be even better. Schadenfreude, watching the fortunate fall from grace, was a dark spot in many hearts.


    In a private box high above the stands, behind a one-way magic window, stood Helen Su¡¯s other two students: Minnie and Randolph. Minnie was a tall young woman, cold, beautiful, and proud. Though young, she was already well-developed. Her austere, keep-your-distance aura was precisely the trait that most attracted the opposite sex. Randolph, on the other hand, was already a tall young man. Compared to his peers, his appearance, family background, temperament, and strength were all impeccable. If he weren''t a one-in-ten-thousand genius, he couldn''t possibly have become Helen Su''s disciple.


    Minnie looked down from her vantage point at the two individuals in the dueling arena, whose countdown had begun. She said coldly, "Randolph, that was quite a clever idea you came up with. If Richard loses under these duel conditions, Teacher definitely won''t want him anymore. But he''s just a Level One mage. Is he really worth so much of your attention that you need to use such methods against him?"


    Randolph shrugged nonchalantly, smiling. "I just wanted to see what''s so remarkable about this future Rune Graft. Honestly, I''ve never understood why Teacher wouldn''t let me develop towards becoming a Rune Master. You know, the renowned Rune Graft Saint Kruss affirmed my talent in rune grafting long ago. Besides, since he''s also Teacher''s student, there''s no reason he should lose to that trash down there, right? After all, it''s only a one-level mana difference."


    Minnie scoffed, "Yes! Only a one-level difference: the difference between Level One and Level Two. Randolph, are you insulting my intelligence, or your own? And doing this, aren''t you afraid Teacher will be angry when she finds out?"


    Randolph smiled arrogantly. "Teacher won''t abandon a genius like me for a failure. On my monthly ledger, the entry for Teacher''s Joy is often over 100,000 gold coins! Not to mention my father is... Alright, the duel is starting. Let''s watch first!"


    Minnie''s gaze also turned to the arena, but she seemed to mutter to herself, "But how come I heard Richard''s income from that item is 500,000 gold coins per month?"


    Randolph remained silent, as if he hadn''t heard Minnie''s words, but his expression turned somewhat unpleasant.

 Chapter 18: Forsaken

    In the dueling arena, both Papan and Richard began chanting incantations, accompanied by corresponding magical hand gestures. Papan''s opening movements were standard and clear, instantly recognizable as Magic Missile¡ªthe most practical and potent Level One spell. In terms of magical proficiency alone, Papan''s foundation was remarkably solid; even the most critical instructor would find no fault in his execution of this spell. A Level One mage should only produce two magic missiles, yet three orbs of magical light ignited between Papan''s hands! A slight stir went through the crowd, surprised by Papan''s magical talent. Magic Missile had the shortest casting time; by the time Papan''s missiles shot forth, Richard''s spell was still incomplete.


    The central missile locked onto Richard, while the other two shot towards his left and right flanks respectively. At his current strength, Papan could only fully lock onto a target with one of the three missiles. Adopting this tactical setup meant that no matter which direction his opponent dodged, they risked being hit by two missiles simultaneously! If Richard didn''t dodge, he would have to take a direct hit from one missile.


    Papan knew one missile wouldn''t finish Richard¡ªhe had personally experienced the boy''s surprisingly sturdy physique during their earlier scuffle. However, he actually possessed the mana of a Level Two mage, allowing him to cast Magic Missile three times in total. Three volleys of missiles would be enough to pummel the kid senseless! Richard, having just registered as a Level One mage, could at most manage two volleys. Papan estimated he could endure one missile barrage, though it would be incredibly painful; two would be unbearable. It couldn''t be helped; that was the nature of magic duels. If he were a Level Three mage, victory would be certain, and the duel wouldn''t have been approved in the first place. Deepblue was fair. Overlooking certain inequities required an exceptionally powerful background and substantial material investment. Papan''s family was far from reaching that level.


    After launching the three missiles, Papan began preparing the next volley. His opponent, Richard, was still slow in readying his spell. Papan felt the goddess of victory was already baring her thigh to him. Just thinking about the equipment, gold, and status promised by the person pulling the strings made Papan''s heart itch with anticipation, so much so that his incantation became slightly inaccurate, dragging the 1.5-second casting time to 2 seconds. Yet, before the magic in his hands was fully formed, Papan heard a roar like a tidal wave erupting from the spectator stands!


    Is that cheering? For my impending victory? Papan wondered, though he possessed a modicum of self-awareness. He looked up, somewhat bewildered, his eyes suddenly widening, completely forgetting the half-prepared spell in his hands!


    Papan could hardly believe his eyes! What was he seeing? A fireball? How could a Level One mage cast a Level Three spell? Weren''t scrolls prohibited in magic duels? Why was there a fireball?!


    That genuine fireball had already left Richard''s hand, hurtling towards Papan. Fireball lacked a targeting function, but its high speed and the spell''s own ten-meter damage radius made locking on unnecessary. Only when the fireball was less than five meters away did the dumbstruck Papan snap out of his shock. With a howl, he scrambled sideways, rolling and crawling away. But Papan, moving faster than ever before in his life, had only covered three meters when the rolling wave of fire caught up! With a muffled thump, Papan was blasted into the air, tracing a short arc before crashing heavily onto the ground several meters away, unable to rise again!


    The dueling arena abruptly shifted from extreme clamor to dead silence. Everyone subconsciously held their breath.


    Among the audience were many knowledgeable Grand Mages who could see that the potency of Richard''s Fireball was significantly less than a standard Level Three spell, but its impact of 10 energy levels was still enough to deliver a heavy blow to any mage below Level Three. Although Papan wasn''t killed instantly, he would need dozens of days to recover.


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    A muffled thump once again drew the audience''s attention. Papan''s magic missiles had only just reached Richard. He crossed his arms defensively, absorbing the impact, then, with unchanged expression and flawless hand gestures, began preparing a second spell.


    The arena was now so quiet that a feather falling could be clearly heard. Though Richard recited the magic incantation very softly, several Grand Mages with superior perception heard it, and their expressions changed drastically in alarm!


    Although the incantation was heavily modified, they could still recognize it: Richard''s second spell was also Fireball!


    Richard''s face was already pale. The rapid drain of mana made him feel as if his body was being emptied; he had less than 4 points of mana left, recovering slightly thanks to a mana recovery potion. The incantation he was preparing was a version of Fireball with further reduced mana cost, not yet fully researched. But even perfected, it would require 6 points of mana to cast a small fireball with an energy level of 8. Yet, fierce conviction supported Richard, compelling him to complete the spell even at the cost of mana overdraft!


    Though the fireball was small, it was still enough to kill.


    At that moment, the resident mage flashed to the center of the arena, waved his hand to dispel Richard''s unfinished spell, and simultaneously stabilized his chaotic mana.


    "Enough. Casting that spell would kill him, which violates the rules of magic duels." Saying this, the resident mage glanced back at Papan''s condition, then announced, "The victor of this duel is Richard! Now, Richard, according to the prior agreement, you may demand the opponent fulfill... hmm, the agreed-upon wager. The location of fulfillment can be chosen separately. Of course, I personally suggest you choose a... uh... similar, alternative... method of fulfillment, which also complies with the rules of magic duels."


    Hearing the resident mage, Richard walked over to the motionless Papan, roughly pulled up his head, looked at the face, blackened and swollen from the fiery blast, and said in a voice devoid of any emotion, "Someone once told me, if anyone wants to kick your ass, you kick theirs twice as hard first."


    Finished speaking, Richard stood up and, using all his strength, viciously kicked Papan squarely in the rear! Papan let out a squeal like a stuck pig, which then turned into a strained, breathless groan that was impossible to distinguish as crying or laughing. Richard took two steps away, then suddenly turned and delivered another kick! This blow immediately sent Papan''s groans up another octave.


    Seeing Richard''s two kicks, even the resident mage''s eyebrows twitched slightly, feeling a faint discomfort in his own posterior region. However, in his view, Richard''s kicks were clearly more merciful than enforcing the agreed wager, so he tacitly accepted this method of fulfillment and declared the duel concluded. People in the stands began to leave one after another, appearing quite excited, constantly discussing Richard''s Fireball. Naturally, no one paid any attention to Papan''s backside. Clearly, this would be a hot topic for a considerable time to come.


    In the private box, neither Minnie nor Randolph had expected such an outcome. Minnie suddenly let out a short, sharp laugh. "Randolph, you were right. It seems little Richard is indeed worth 500,000 gold coins!" With that, she didn''t bother addressing Randolph further but walked straight out of the box.


    Randolph''s face was ashen, his eyes practically spitting fire! His gaze locked onto Minnie''s slender waist and gracefully swaying hips, his teeth clenched tightly together.


    As she pulled open the box door, Minnie suddenly turned back, smiling faintly. "You don''t need to just stare at my ass. I think, right now, you need to seriously consider the future of your own ass. Teacher returns in six days!"


    Bang! The box door slammed shut heavily in Randolph''s face, the force utterly lacking aristocratic etiquette or grace. Randolph immediately began to roar, smashing almost everything smashable within the box¡ªhe could afford to replace it, anyway.


    As for Papan, at this moment, he had become an orphan forsaken by the world. Even those apprentice followers who were usually inseparable from him had vanished without a trace. Only now did they remember the terror inspired by Lady Helen Su. It was precisely these apprentices, new to Deepblue, who still carried so many worldly, profligate habits.

 Chapter 19: Balance

    The uppermost third of Deepblue consisted entirely of Helen Su¡¯s exclusive domain; idlers were forbidden entry. Entry was possible, however, for those willing to try. The magic golems wandering each floor possessed strength equivalent to Level Fifteen warriors and would attack any intruder not recorded in the magic core. As long as one could defeat these golems, then challenge a dozen magisters, and finally overwhelm Helen Su herself, one could freely plunder the legendary mage¡¯s lair. At least, in theory.


    The legendary mage quite liked her sense of space, hence she occupied an enormous area all by herself. At this moment, intermittent screams echoed from one corner of her exclusive zone. In the dim, long corridor, the echoing cries were incessant, enough to make the uninformed shudder with horror. The few who were informed, however, reacted entirely differently.


    Minnie appeared from the end of the corridor, walking briskly. She was still just a young woman, after all. Her hurried steps, tightly pressed lips, slightly furrowed brow, and the way her body seemed tensed, ready to dodge something at any moment, suggested she thoroughly disliked the corridor''s gloom and dreariness. But this area''s theme was precisely darkness, gloom, and dampness¡ªpersonally decided by the eternally correct Lady Helen Su, so no one dared voice dissent. Just then, faint screams echoed again through the corridor. Minnie recognized the source, a cold sneer touched her lips, and she spat viciously.


    At the end of the dim area lay a prison section occupying over a thousand square meters, containing more than ten torture chambers of various sizes and functions. In the center of one cell, Randolph was suspended high on a rack, limbs stretched wide, stripped bare. A bare-chested torturer brandished a five-meter-long whip, lashing it down onto Randolph''s body again and again. The torturer''s knotted muscles glistened with grease, reflecting an unpleasant sheen. The corners of his leather shorts were frayed, stained with large patches of dark brown¡ªblood from who knew what person or creature.


    If one could ignore the violence and gore and observe carefully, one would notice the torturer''s extraordinary skill. The long whip traced complex patterns in the air, cracking sharply, then descended with a terrifying whistle onto Randolph¡¯s pale buttocks, leaving vivid red welts across the small area. The welts swelled high but didn''t break the skin, maximizing pain without causing excessive injury, allowing the agony to stack exponentially. Standing four meters away, the torturer wielded the five-meter whip, yet the marks left by the whip''s tip on Randolph''s pale flesh were evenly distributed, filling almost every available space, with only occasional overlaps, none breaking the skin. From afar, it resembled a Fauvist abstract painting¡ªcountless chaotic blocks of color and lines within a small frame, yet displaying an indescribable aesthetic beauty. Such skill was truly masterful. If this torturer were outside, he too could be considered a powerhouse.


    Randolph''s buttocks were already severely swollen. Tears, snot, and saliva mingled on his face, twisting his handsome features into a complete mess. As an outstanding scion of an ancient noble house, Randolph certainly didn''t lack courage or endurance. But many punishments in the dim region were designed for formidable races like Purgatory devils, Abyssal demons, various draconic sub-species, hybrid beastmen, and Polar Greydwarves. Humans, especially mages not known for physical fortitude, were like a bowl of plain water to these masters of torment¡ªtasteless even when consumed. For instance, the torturer whipping Randolph used only the simplest lashing, yet it was enough to shatter his will. It was worth noting that the large cell holding Randolph contained a total of sixteen sets of torture instruments, and the torturer was proficient in using nine of them.


    The whipping ended, but Randolph''s convulsions didn''t stop; he couldn''t even pass out. Intense waves of pain washed over him, without peaks or troughs, without the slightest pause or interruption, constantly battering the dam of his sanity, threatening to plunge him into the abyss of despair at any moment.


    All the injuries were concentrated on the posterior Minnie had warned him to look after, and the immense humiliation nearly drove Randolph mad. Fortunately, he was inherently strong-willed and didn''t completely break down even at the end. But when the whipping finished, he no longer had the strength to feel shame; more embarrassing things had happened during the ordeal. He only hoped word of this wouldn''t get out. If it reached Helen Su''s ears, his position as an apprentice would surely be lost. The thought of life after being kicked out of Deepblue sent a deep chill through Randolph; he didn''t even dare imagine how he would manage his future days. The fall from lofty heights to muddy ground was not something everyone could endure. Only now did Randolph finally realize that what set him apart wasn''t his looks or talent, but the title of Helen Su''s disciple and his family background.


    For a moment, fear and regret consumed Randolph''s mind, making him even forget to curse Minnie''s ass.


    In one of Helen Su¡¯s favorite leisure halls, an attendant over two meters tall stood hunched over, carrying a huge golden basin on his back. It was piled high with all sorts of fresh, rare fruits. Some were plump and glossy, radiating tempting luster; others were bizarrely shaped and strangely colored. There was an immense variety, many not native to this season, and many products of other planes. In a crystal cup at the very top rested several precious items usually guarded by transcendent magical beasts. This large basin likely held dozens of kilograms of fruit¡ªprecisely Helen Su''s snack for the day.


    The attendant walked briskly along a gravel path with heavy steps, passed through a grove of trees with brilliant foliage, crossed a vast, lush lawn, and finally spotted several tables and chairs placed by a small lake. Compared to the eye-catching fruit and container, the furniture pieces had simple lines and solid-color decorations, unadorned yet immediately evoking a sense of comfort and relaxation upon sight.


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    Helen Su was lounging lazily on a soft couch, tossing fruits into her mouth one by one. Beside her rested an identical golden fruit basin, now nearly empty. The attendant set down the fresh basin, took away the old one, and returned the way he came. Though called a leisure hall, this area exceeded a thousand square meters and contained complete ecological and heating systems, making it feel like being in the most comfortable mountain wilderness.


    Five or six Grand Magisters were gathered around Helen Su''s couch, reporting on important events from the recent period. Ranked by importance, the recent major issues were: financial balance, Randolph, and Richard.


    One Grand Magister described Deepblue''s overall income and expenditure for the winter in concise, rapid language. Before he finished, a large cherry being tossed towards Helen Su''s small mouth abruptly froze mid-air. Then, Helen''s incomparably bright eyes fixed on the Grand Magister. Pressure like a dragon''s might instantly radiated outwards, making all the Grand Magisters present slightly unsteady on their feet.


    "What did you say? We made a loss last season?!"


    This Grand Magister in charge of finances was of a rather unusual race, a mortal enemy of humans: a Polar Greydwarf. Few greydwarves possessed magical talent, and those who could cultivate to the Grand Magister level were even rarer. But the greydwarf propensity for accumulating wealth and meticulousness made them perfectly suited for accounting. He immediately bowed his head slightly, avoiding the legendary mage''s direct gaze, and answered cautiously, "Yes! But the loss wasn''t large, less than 600,000 Imperial gold coins¡­"


    Helen immediately cut him off. "That''s still a loss! I remember I just robbed several dragons mid-last year and invested some of the spoils into Deepblue''s operations. How could there still be a loss? Have you determined the cause?"


    "The cause has been found, but¡­" the greydwarf magister stammered, seeming hesitant to speak.


    "Speak!" Helen''s voice rose again.


    The greydwarf gritted his teeth and forced himself to say, "The reason is¡­ your mood has been very good recently¡­"


    The cherry resumed its flight, disappearing into the depths of Helen Su''s small mouth. The legendary mage furrowed her lovely little brow, pondering with a serious expression. After a moment, she slowly said, "But my mood might be even better for the next while. Let''s put this aside for now. Tell me about the next matter!"


    Another human magister immediately stepped forward. "Randolph has been punished according to your instructions. How do you wish to proceed now?"


    "What''s your suggestion?" Helen asked lazily, fiddling with a Waterflower Fruit in her hand, seeming somewhat uninterested.


    The human magister said, "His talent is still quite good, rated ''Excellent'' overall. Plus, he''s the son of Duke Solam of the Sacred Tree Dynasty, and Master Kruss himself once affirmed his talent as a Rune Graft. Therefore, my suggestion is to retain his status as an apprentice."


    The legendary mage snorted. "That Kruss has the nerve to call himself Master? And he even dared to add the prefix ''Saint'' to his name! Putting that aside, when has that old fool ever been accurate in judging people! We already have a future Grand Rune Graft; there''s no need to cultivate this sort of halfway thing, it''s a waste of resources! We lost quite a bit of money last season! Let''s do this: stick to the original decision, send Randolph back."


    "But he is, after all, Duke Solam''s son¡­" the human magister reminded carefully. Even in the Sacred Tree Dynasty, teeming with experts, Duke Solam was a figure of considerable importance. The Duke himself held three prominent titles¡ªDragonslayer, Troll Ender, and Infernal Hunter¡ªand was merely a step away from the legendary realm, potentially crossing over at any moment. If the two sides truly became hostile, it wasn''t certain Duke Solam would lose to Helen Su.


    Helen waved her hand impatiently, cutting him off. "Randolph is Solam''s son, but Solam doesn''t have only one son! Besides Randolph''s mother, Solam''s other eleven wives will all side with us! How about this: I remember Solam has two other sons with decent talent, they won''t embarrass me too much. Let''s give them priority for this self-funded apprentice spot. As long as Solam provides half the originally agreed sponsorship fee, he can have the spot."


    "With this sponsorship fee, Deepblue won''t be in deficit, right?" Helen turned to the greydwarf, her face already full of anticipation.


    The greydwarf quickly calculated, then frowned. "It can only guarantee the spring season. Because your mood will certainly continue to improve."


    This time, Helen became serious. Her small hand hovered over the fruit basin, forgetting to toss fruit into her mouth. She pondered, struggled, and finally said somewhat painfully, "My mood¡­ this¡­ I can''t control it. What now? Those dragons are already quite poor; I just visited each of them last year. Going again now definitely won''t yield much. And they keep moving further away; finding them is exhausting¡­"


    "Perhaps¡­ add another self-funded apprentice spot?" the greydwarf suggested tentatively.


    Before Helen could respond, another elderly magister immediately objected, "Absolutely not! Lady Helen Su''s apprentice status is so noble and important, how can it be sold casually? One might be explained as an expedient measure, but adding another? How is that acceptable? If there are too many nominal disciples who don''t match the reality, it will seriously damage Her Ladyship''s reputation, and Deepblue''s reputation!"


    "Reputation is a future concern, but the deficit is right before our eyes! Besides, just being able to become Her Ladyship''s apprentice, even merely a self-funded one, will absolutely be fought over by countless geniuses. Can you bear to see our youngest, most beautiful Ladyship unable to rejoice as she pleases? Furthermore, among Her Ladyship''s students is a future Grand Rune Graft! Beside this dazzling sun, all other stars will dim," the greydwarf practically hopped as he yelled.


    Helen raised her small hand again. All the magisters fell silent, breathlessly awaiting her decision.


    After wavering multiple times between deficit and reputation, Helen finally made the painful decision: "Let''s add one more self-funded apprentice spot!"


    To balance the burden on her conscience, Helen immediately shifted her attention to Richard. "Now, let''s see what the future Saint Rune Graft has been up to."


    The financial pressure had instantly elevated little Richard''s prospects from Grand Rune Graft to Saint Rune Graft.

 Chapter 20: Primordial Surge

    Another mage produced two pages of data and handed them to Helen Su. The Legendary Mage scanned them and practically jumped up. "He improved the Fireball spell? Let me see... seven improvements in total! Truly impressive¡ªcasting a Level 3 Fireball as a Level 1. Even back in my day..."


    The Legendary Mage abruptly cleared her throat before continuing, "When I first became a Level 1 mage, I could only manage four or five Fireballs myself. But the kid''s a real genius! A Construct Master, too, and with the Akmond bloodline! Heh heh, hehe, haha!"


    Helen Su pored over the two pages, reading them again and again, finally bursting into laughter. Through her uninhibited laughter, the Legendary Mage said to the Grey Dwarf, "Alright, let''s adjust Richard''s budget for the month. Hmm, increase it under the item ''My Delight''..."


    Before she could state the specific amount, the Grey Dwarf, intimately familiar with Her Highness''s temperament, immediately cautioned loudly, "Your Highness, you seem perhaps too pleased right now!"


    Understanding the implication, the Legendary Mage couldn''t entirely stifle her laughter but decided nonetheless to postpone the budget adjustment.


    At this very moment, the future Saint Construct Master remained completely unaware of all this. Richard stood naked in the bathroom, dumping a basin of roughly-drawn cold water over his head. He had long since turned off the magical heating in his quarters. Comfortable as it was, maintaining a constant temperature year-round cost a steep 1000 gold coins a month. The shock of icy water splashing over him made every muscle in Richard''s body clench involuntarily. Yet only this could quell the boiling blood surging through his veins.


    From the brawl with Papan before the duel to those terrifying kicks in the arena, Richard still couldn''t understand why he had acted so savagely. Was it Papan¡¯s insult to his mother? Surely that wasn''t the whole reason. Grabbing Papan¡¯s head and smashing it into the ground, preparing that second fireball in the arena¡ªboth could have been fatal. Richard, still possessed of a mountain youth''s simple sense of justice, believed Papan deserved punishment¡ªeven harsh punishment¡ªbut certainly not death. Yet at that moment, stinging from the insult, he¡¯d felt a searing rush of blood to his head, his entire body ablaze as if tossed into a furnace. In that state, Papan became utterly loathsome to him; Richard felt that even tearing the man limb from limb wouldn''t have been enough to quench the hatred burning in his chest! Smashing Papan¡¯s face into the ground had only been the start. In the arena, Richard would have willingly overdrawn his mana just to incinerate Papan then and there. That second fireball would absolutely have turned Papan¡ªstripped of all magical defense¡ªinto a human torch, burning him alive.


    Overdrawing mana is a cardinal sin for mages. Depending on the extent of the overdraft, mild cases could slow mana recovery for anywhere from a month to several years; severe cases could cause the mage''s power to drop a level, or even prove fatal. It was a steep price, but Richard had been willing to pay it simply to kill Papan. Yet even killing Papan a hundred times over wouldn''t have sated the rage burning in his heart at that moment.


    After the duel, Richard was dazed, barely aware of how he¡¯d gotten back to his quarters. He only vaguely sensed far more people around him than usual, their anxiety and concern almost palpable.


    When Richard truly awoke, it was already the third day after the duel.


    The aftereffects of his boiling blood lingered, making Richard fight the urge to seek Papan out again. He quickly realized his state was far from normal; his temper had become unusually short, surges of murderous intent welled up from deep within him, and he sometimes felt he couldn''t control his own actions. Even now, he desperately wanted to smash something, anything, just to find some release for the fury coiled within him.


    Splash! He doused himself again with another basin of cold water.


    Although Richard''s body was far sturdier than that of an average boy, the icy water left him shivering uncontrollably, his face pale. But as the initial wave of cold subsided, he felt the heat in his blood stir once more, this time even causing a faint resonance with his internal mana. Richard gritted his teeth. With numb, stiff hands, he grabbed the wooden bucket again, filled it to the brim with water, then scooped up a shovelful of crushed ice and dumped it in. Even these simple movements were difficult; most of his joints were stiff, and his fingers were completely numb.


    Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    Just as Richard struggled to lift the heavy wooden bucket, a clear, sweet voice suddenly called out from behind him, "Hey! Anyone in there? Time to eat!"


    This shock came out of nowhere and made Richard''s mind go blank, just like when he was a child in the mountain forest and was quietly hitched from behind by a seat wolf on his neck. The instincts honed in the mountains made him immediately throw down the barrel and reluctantly lunge backward in an attempt to fight the attacker to the death. As soon as he turned around, Richard saw a young girl standing in the doorway of the shower stall, looking in with her head sticking out. Richard recognized it as the teenage girl who had been delivering his bills, but could no longer control his stiff body and pounced straight on the teenage girl, tackling her to the ground.


    Richard had grown close to an eighteen or nineteen year old teenager and was about the same size as the teenage girl. The young girl was crushed underneath and immediately yelped in pain.


    Somehow, Richard''s always clear mind had now become a little drowsy, and things that he could usually think clearly in an instant now took a long time to understand. His body temperature had already dropped to a very low level, but those deep-seated boiling blood were still restless. Moreover, the girl underneath him had very thin clothes, the dark blue magical robes had the function of keeping her warm, even in winter, there was no need for too many clothes, so through the light and soft material, he could clearly feel the shape of the girl''s body as well as her fiery body temperature. The collision between the cold skin and the hot body of the young girl instantly made Richard''s senses increase to an unprecedentedly sharp state. The young girl''s body was both soft and elastic, full of youthfulness. Richard suddenly had a strange feeling, as if a certain part of his body was awakening. And the boiling hot blood seemed to have found a target and surged downward in unison. However, the blood veins leading to the awakened part didn''t seem to be very smooth, and with the potency of the several large buckets of ice water in front of him still in place, the progress of the boiling hot blood became slow after advancing for a short distance.


    ¡°How is it you? How did you get in here?¡± Richard asked in surprise as he struggled to maintain his limited lucidity.


    ¡°I''m in charge of bringing you food now. But you keep falling asleep, I''ve been here twice already, how did I know you would suddenly disappear ...... Ouch!¡± The young girl innocently said, she had been knocked over and crushed by Richard, falling to the point of dizziness, and only now was the pain around her body starting to be severe. Although she was already an official level two magician, but magicians didn''t have a strong physical body like warriors, and most magicians'' bodies weren''t much stronger than ordinary people.


    It was only then that Richard remembered that he still had the young girl underneath him, and apologetically tried to get up, but the cold and stiff joints didn''t allow him to do so, and just as he propped up half of his body, he flopped on top of the young girl again, and he struggled a few more times, but it seemed like he was intentionally grinding himself on the young girl''s body. In the end, Richard was no warrior, and the potency of those buckets of icy water wasn''t something that passed easily.


    The girl''s face violently flew up a layer of red, subconsciously reaching out to push away Richard. However, when she touched Richard''s young but hard body, she suddenly changed her mind and changed from pushing to hugging, her body wriggled uncontrollably underneath Richard, like a cat that refused to be at peace even after being held down. Her eyes were half-closed, and her body kept pushing up, rubbing Richard''s slightly shaped pecs with her soft breasts. Moans still drifted from her throat, but they were more than just tinged with pain, they were also slightly disoriented and gasping.


    Richard was a little surprised at the young girl''s reaction; she had clearly started out trying to help him stand up, so how had she suddenly become a hindrance? However, the young girl''s reaction gave him another kind of strange sprouting, in his eleven years of life, it was the first time he had such a strange feeling of his heart beating faster. Suddenly, Richard actually felt that it was also very good to just press her like this, somewhat not wanting to get up. And the softness felt in front of his chest, is it the girl''s breasts, it''s really comfortable. If only they were bigger ......


    This was not a wild thought, but was backed up by ample data. Richard had been given almost all the data of the young girl''s body, and the gifts of precision and intellect had come into play at the same time in this moment, to the point of constructing equations describing it for certain changes in important curves. Once again, the numbers allowed Richard to experience beauty, only to be an anachronism. With a layer of numbers and formulas, the impact of the budding sensation was immediately diminished by more than half. But it was true that the young girl''s size was not advantageous compared to the other women in his memory.


    Is not bad! Age is also an important variable that affects key numbers. Once again, the two talents came together to correct Richard''s erroneous viewpoint.


    Just then, one of the young girl''s bouncy legs suddenly poked out from the hem of her magic robe and inserted itself between Richard''s legs, then lifted upwards and kicked hard at Richard!


    In an instant, little Richard''s eyes were full of fluttering numbers without the slightest connection to each other.

 Chapter 21: Watering

    Richard did not know how he stood up, anyway, finally got rid of the young girl''s entanglement straightened his body. After all, the young girl''s physical strength was limited, Richard''s unexpectedly sturdy body was really heavy for her, and after a few movements, she was already sweaty and her hands and feet were sore. Seeing Richard who managed to stand up, the young girl hated it so much that she almost bit her lip.


    Wasn''t it said that the boys of noble families started learning to recognize the difference between men and women when they were six years old? At the age of ten, a noble boy should know it all. Many boys from big noble families had perhaps experienced more than double digits of women by the time they were fifteen.Which of the students of the Legendary Mage''s family is not a noble among nobles? But how did this Richard seem like he didn''t know anything?


    ¡°It can''t be! He''s a student of His Highness, he must think I''m not good enough!¡± The young girl was so entangled that she accidentally said what was on her mind.


    ¡°How are you not good enough?¡± Richard asked somewhat bewildered. Until now, he still felt like what just happened was in a dream.


    The young girl clenched her teeth, her body softened, and she leaned into Richard''s arms. Seeing that she looked like she was so weak that she was going to plant herself directly into the hard stone ground, Richard had to hold her up, and the young girl twisted her soft waist obediently, and pressed her most towering parts tightly against it.


    However, just after holding the girl, Richard involuntarily sucked in a breath of cold air!


    One of the young girl''s hands quietly held Richard''s lower body, and then rubbed it hard.


    After a few strokes, the sensation coming from her hand let the young girl know that it was the fruit that was about to ripen. It was almost ripe, but not quite. Maybe it would ripen in a year, maybe it would only take a few months, maybe even less if it was well watered. But for now, the fruit is still a bit raw. Yet fruit is fruit, and like any fruit that is close to ripening, it can most likely be ripened by hand if it is rubbed hard enough.


    The girl bit her lower lip again, clearly contemplating something seriously.


    In the end, she couldn''t bring herself to do it. It wasn''t out of conscience, but because forcing the ripening might harm the fruit. Even if the chance was minuscule, it could leave unpredictable consequences. The girl wasn''t willing to take such a risk.


    Thus, Richard was finally able to change smoothly into a dark, soft, informal robe and sit down at the dining table. He then stared blankly at the roasted meat filling an entire silver basin before him. This was his lunch, and dinner would bring an identical portion.


    The roasted meat weighed a full two kilograms, not counting four equally substantial side dishes and a large mug of some unidentifiable, odd-tasting alcoholic drink. This used to be enough food for Richard for an entire day, but now it constituted a single meal¡ªone he was required to finish completely. Besides delivering the food, the girl''s other duty was to ensure Richard ate every last bite.


    Although he picked up his knife and fork, Richard hesitated. He was truly hungry, especially since the vexing, mysterious heat in his blood had quietly vanished after the prolonged struggle with the girl. But tackling such an enormous platter felt daunting, particularly as the roast meat gave off a nauseating odor. Thin wisps of the smell lingered persistently in the air. As time passed, Richard felt his blood begin to flow faster again. He feared that eating the meat would reawaken that unknown, scorching current within him.


    The girl saw Richard''s hesitation and smiled. "Eat heartily! Her Highness famously says, ''To gain the strength of a dragon, you must first possess the appetite of a dragon.'' That''s why all the high mages in Deepblue have such large appetites."


    Although he was Helen Su''s student and held her in great reverence, Richard remained skeptical of his teacher''s maxim. Furthermore, it wasn''t just the roast meat; the aromas of the side dishes and the drink also started to provoke reactions within him. With each new scent that reached his nose, he felt another current stir in his blood. The girl who''d delivered the meal sat primly beside the table, elbows resting on its surface, chin cupped in her hands, simply watching him. Richard noticed, however, that whenever her gaze swept over the food, it momentarily flared with intensity before she quickly resumed her nonchalant expression. He realized then that there was more to this meal than met the eye.


    "What kind of meat is this?"


    "Komodo Earth Drake ribs," the girl answered without a second thought.


    "And the drink?"


    "Warrior''s Brew, specially made for the elite Ash Dwarf warriors of Blazing Canyon."


    "Ah, and these side dishes?"


    "Agave, Blood Parrot, Kabu Berries, and Spilan Grass. They''re all primary ingredients for Potions of Strength, cooked using special techniques. Eating them enhances strength and constitution." The girl seemed intimately familiar with every dish, although it clearly wasn''t her area of expertise. Richard could sense she already possessed magical power approaching the third level. A mage of her age reaching level three wasn''t exceptionally rare, but certainly not commonplace, even within Deepblue.


    Richard nodded and invited her, "Why don''t you have some too? I can''t possibly manage all this alone."


    The girl gasped and quickly shook her head. "No, I couldn''t! This food is incredibly expensive; I could never afford it..."


    "Just think of it as helping me cheat," Richard said with a smile. When that mysterious, boiling heat wasn''t disrupting him, Richard was quite sharp. Too much had happened in the past year; suffering accelerates a man''s maturity.


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    Hearing this, the girl seemed to relax inexplicably, but she still shook her head. "I can''t. I appreciate the offer, but these dishes follow special recipes meant only for men."


    What the girl left unsaid was that the food also hastened a man''s maturity, albeit in a different way. And knowledge of that sort was certainly not something she was supposed to have.


    Richard glanced at the girl again, then hesitated no more and began to determinedly work his way through the food. He ate quickly and with concentration; awareness of his limited time made him approach every task with focus. When he finally lifted the mug and downed the pungent brew in one gulp, the girl''s eyes flickered momentarily. In her mind''s eye, it was as if a still somewhat green fruit was being aggressively watered.


    Within ten minutes, Richard had polished off everything. The silver platters gleamed, almost as clean as if freshly washed. He inferred from the girl''s reactions that the bill arriving at the end of the month would undoubtedly feature a striking new sum.


    The girl started clearing the dishes, her movements somewhat slow. After their earlier entanglement in the bathroom, Richard felt differently about her. Recalling it now¡ªthe tangle of limbs, the contact¡ªit all seemed imbued with a special meaning. Under his gaze, the girl''s face flushed faintly. Richard, too, felt his own body begin to heat up again. The soft form beneath her mage robe seemed to be exerting a strange new attraction on him.


    "I haven''t asked your name yet," Richard said suddenly.


    The girl''s body gave a sudden, slight tremor. She lowered her head unnaturally and said, "My name is Eilyn. Eilyn Fila."


    "Well then, is there anything I can do for... Oh, no, I mean, you''ve done so much for me, I''d like to repay you somehow," Richard said, choosing his words carefully to avoid offense or wounding the girl''s pride. He had inherited his sensitivity from his mother, but his understanding of relationships had grown more adept with the knowledge acquired in Deepblue.


    Eilyn finally raised her head, her face breaking into a smile. "The tradition in Deepblue is service for coin. However, I know a great many things. If there''s anything you want to find out about Deepblue, feel free to ask me. Naturally, I''ll charge a small fee depending on how rare the information is."


    Once the dishes were gathered, Eilyn suddenly leaned close to Richard, gave him a quick peck on the lips, and whispered, "Thank you!" Then she darted away as swift as a bird.


    Watching her visibly lighter steps as she departed, Richard''s own mood brightened considerably.


    A magic formation flared, light pulsing as it drove the heavy metal door slowly shut, sealing the residential area from the outside world. All clamor was excluded; the space became serene and still. Richard, having regained his composure, began his studies for the day. Yet, the tip of his Firebird quill felt unusually slick today, and the newly opened vial of Lorsiaga Hellblood ink seemed sluggish. Consequently, the lines he traced on the costly Nightmare Starweave Cloth repeatedly strayed, with several errors nearly severe enough to invalidate entire sections of the formation. The practice materials alone were worth over fifty thousand gold coins; successful completion of this section would credit thirty thousand back to him¡ªhis entire first month''s stipend.


    Today, however, the quill refused to obey. Whenever he intended to stop a line, the tip slid past the mark. Richard quickly sensed something was off within himself, too¡ªhis heart pounded faster than normal, and he felt an unusual anticipation for dinner. While this part of the formation required costly materials, it wasn''t inherently complex, merely demanding great precision. Yet Richard was taking far longer than he would on even the most intricate designs.


    "Hmm, my efficiency seems a little low this afternoon... though perhaps not..." Richard mused.


    Efficiency: one-quarter of normal. Precision provided the answer yet again. He had to admit, sometimes this talent wasn''t exactly welcome.


    Dinnertime finally came. Eilyn arrived punctually and watched quietly as Richard rapidly and precisely finished the basin of food. Before departing, she gave him another light kiss on the lips as she had before. Then she took his hand, pressed it against her chest, smiled slyly, and said, "You owe me one gold coin!" With that, she hurried out of the living quarters.


    Eilyn was in exceptionally high spirits, jogging merrily along. She didn''t notice a group approaching in a small nearby plaza. At their center walked a striking young nobleman, perhaps seventeen or eighteen years old. His attire was simple yet impeccably tailored, its quality evident in the cut and craftsmanship. Pinned to his left breast was a small, pale gold insignia depicting a double-headed eagle clutching a coiled serpent in its talons. Anyone reasonably familiar with the continent''s politics would recognize the emblem: the eagle and serpent, mark of Duke Solam of the Holy Tree Dynasty. Within the Solam family itself, few were granted the right to display the crest so openly.


    A dozen figures followed the young noble, roughly half warriors and half mages¡ªa noticeable difference from the usual throngs of mages seen in Deepblue. The elderly mage who had previously lectured Richard on Deepblue''s history now walked attentively beside the youth, narrating with expressive tones and gestures. While the young man''s prestigious background was surely a factor in the old mage''s zealous efforts, the power of gold likely played a larger part. The youth listened with half an ear, his sharp eyes scanning Deepblue''s architecture and the passersby, missing no detail, even pausing momentarily on the magical lamps that lit the corridors.


    The young man watched Eilyn''s retreating form, as cheerful as a swallow in flight. He paused, thoughtful, and glanced towards the entrance she had just exited. It was a residential section marked by a long wall featuring only one heavy, magic-powered metal door¡ªa clear sign that the surprisingly vast area beyond belonged solely to one resident.


    "Did you say just now that this residence belongs to that... ah, Mister Richard?" the young nobleman asked the old mage.


    "Yes! Richard is Her Highness''s newest pupil. Don''t be deceived by his age; he is a true genius! These quarters alone prove it¡ªamong all Her Highness''s students, only two have ever received accommodations this large! And there is a great secret..." Here, the old mage leaned in, deliberately lowering his voice.


    "Oh? And what secret is that?" The young man leaned closer, intrigued.


    The old mage glanced around conspiratorially before whispering, in a voice barely audible even to the young man, "Mister Richard... is a future Rune Scholar!"


    The young noble looked startled. "What?" he exclaimed. "Didn''t you just tell me he''s only eleven?"


    The old mage practically danced in agitation. "Quiet, quiet! It''s a secret! As I said, a future Rune Scholar! Future!"


    Understanding dawned on the young man''s face. "That''s incredible! Who judged him to have the aptitude? Her Highness Helen Su herself?"


    "Who else could it be but Her Highness?"


    The young man smiled, produced a small pouch of gold, and pressed it into the old mage''s hand. "Thank you for entrusting me with such an important secret."


    Feeling the weight of the pouch, the old mage beamed. The fact was, within Deepblue, Richard''s potential was only a secret to Richard himself. The old mage, however, was well practiced in leveraging this "secret" for coin from newcomers.


    The young noble cast one last, long look at the heavy door of the residence before turning back to the old mage. "My appointment with my Master is soon. We should proceed now. It would be most discourteous to keep her waiting."

 Chapter 22: Legendary

    In her private library, Helen Su sat unusually properly at her desk, leafing through a weighty tome of magic. Around her, hundreds of magical books floated in the air¡ªsome closed, some open, some displaying a particular page of text or diagrams, awaiting selection. When the Legendary Mage required one, it would fly autonomously before her, automatically open to the specified page, and adjust its angle to present the contents in the most readable manner. Her brow furrowed as she rapidly scanned the pages, occasionally scrawling a few corrections on the sheets before her.


    Though nominally a private library, the space housed seventy rows of bookshelves, each seven meters tall, crammed with magical texts of every description, rivaling the scale of a ducal library in a sovereign nation. A beam of light shot down from a curved crystal in the domed ceiling, leaving a large spot of light at the focal point of the semi-circular library. Helen Su sat directly within this spotlight.


    The library''s partially open door was gently pushed ajar, and a dwarf archmage with graying hair and beard tiptoed inside. Seeing the Legendary Mage hard at work, the archmage softened his steps even further, then called out in the gentlest, calmest voice possible, "Your Highness..."


    "I''m busy!" Helen Su snapped back irritably, without even glancing his way.


    The dwarf archmage startled, but recalling the importance of the message he had to deliver, he weighed his options and finally whispered, "Your Highness, Duke Solam''s son has arrived. He is awaiting your audience..."


    Smack!


    Helen Su slammed her hand down on the desk, cutting off the rest of the dwarf''s words. She finally looked up, her face frosted with displeasure, her tone leaving no room for argument. "I said, I''m busy! Let him wait!"


    "But..." The dwarf archmage swallowed the rest of his sentence. Only after gently closing the library door behind him did he softly mutter, "Alright, let him wait. Let Solam''s son wait. He''s only been waiting three hours, and the time you specified was two hours ago."


    Suddenly, the library door flew open, and a magic book nearly half the height of the dwarf archmage shot out, slamming thud against his back. He felt his insides churn violently and nearly passed out. Only then was the dwarf archmage certain that Helen Su was truly occupied with something incredibly important¡ªimportant enough to risk grievously offending Duke Solam.


    Another full hour passed before the dwarf archmage was summoned. He rushed back into the library. The Legendary Mage, looking slightly weary, tossed him a sheet of paper densely covered in writing and instructed him to follow it, before heading off towards the reception area herself. As the displeasure from having her work interrupted still lingered on the Legendary Mage''s beautiful face, the dwarf archmage maintained his most humble posture and repentant expression as he watched her depart. Only then did he carefully read the paper, quite curious about what matter Her Highness deemed so critical.


    It was a meal plan, listing one hundred and twelve ingredients and twenty-eight dishes, with portion sizes precise down to a tenth of a gram, and meal times specified to the minute. The plan was for Richard, yet it covered only a single month. A mere one-month meal plan for Richard had taken the Legendary Mage over four hours of prime planar time to prepare?


    After seeing this paper, the dwarf archmage, who had previously thought Richard might at best become a junior Rune Scholar, now felt the title "future Saint Rune Scholar" held a distinct possibility of success. After all, getting a Legendary Mage to spend hours of her precious time personally tailoring a monthly meal plan was a privilege an ordinary Rune Scholar could never hope for.


    In a small, lavishly decorated drawing-room, the young man stood with his hands clasped behind his back before the floor-to-ceiling window, admiring the magnificent view of Ice Floe Bay. Although it was spring, the north remained cold, and scattered ice floes could still be seen on the sea''s surface, mingling with the fleets entering and leaving the harbor like small white sails. They might be merely large chunks of ice, or they could conceal massive floating icebergs beneath. Though Deepblue was an ice-free port, for half the year ships still had to navigate with caution to avoid colliding with these drifting behemoths.


    From the window, the imposing Everwinter Mountains stretched far into the distance on the right, their steep sea cliffs and majestic peaks enclosing the northern side of Ice Floe Bay. The southern shoreline was much gentler, the terrain undulating slightly, covered in vast expanses of dense coniferous forest. A deep-water harbor nestled on this southern coast. Despite the season, more than half of its twelve berths were occupied by ships, including a mana-powered ocean vessel nearly a hundred meters long and over thirty meters high. People bustled to and fro on the docks, and long lines of various cargo vehicles snaked along, showing no signs of an off-season slowdown. A busy port signified prosperity, opportunity, and immense wealth.


    On the distant horizon, a fluttering flag dimly appeared, followed by numerous masts, indicating the arrival of another colossal ocean-going ship.


    The young man gazed at the harbor, the faint smile constantly maintained on his face vanishing, replaced by a thoughtful expression. Besides him, only Minnie was present in the drawing-room. The girl was curled up in an armchair, flipping through a magic book, though she seemed rather distracted. Waiting here for four tedious hours had long surpassed her limit. Yet, considering the close ties between their families, she was the only suitable person to keep the young man company; his own attendants would certainly not be permitted entry here.


    "Truly a magnificent view!" the young man suddenly exclaimed in admiration.


    Minnie replied coolly, "Randolph often says the same."


    When the young man turned back, his face already bore an impeccable smile. "I am Stevenson, and he is Randolph. The greatest difference between us is that I will only say this much, while he will only say that."


    "You make it sound impressive," Minnie stretched lazily, her newly developed, attractive figure unintentionally displayed with a hint of allure. Her eyes didn''t leave the magic book, but Stevenson''s words had captured some of her attention. "However, Stevenson of Duke Solam''s house is, I hear, a Dragon Sorcerer. While exceptionally rare, that seems to have little connection to being a Rune Scholar!"


    The curve of the young man''s smile didn''t waver. "That is precisely why I seek Her Highness Helen Su''s personal guidance. Master St. Croix is not incapable of making me a Rune Scholar, but it would require abandoning my bloodline abilities. I believe Her Highness possesses the power to overcome this dilemma."


    Minnie gave a slight nod. Indeed, sorcerers, spellcasters who relied primarily on innate bloodline powers, were already quite rare among mages. Generally, the number of spells they could master was very limited, but their power far exceeded that of mages of the same rank. Dragon Sorcerers were among the rarest and most potent branches of sorcery; even the most basic Green Dragon bloodline held the potential to reach the level of Grand Magus. To forsake the path of a Dragon Sorcerer to become a Rune Scholar was truly a difficult choice. On the other hand, it underscored Stevenson''s unique standing. Within the Holy Tree Dynasty, Stevenson was widely acknowledged as the most promising individual of the Solam family''s next generation.


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    "Master might not agree to take you. You''re too old," Minnie stated bluntly, as was her habit.


    "Her Highness will certainly accept me, because I am paying my own way," Stevenson countered with equal bluntness, elegantly shutting Minnie down.


    Seeing Minnie look slightly vexed, Stevenson added, "After I become Her Highness''s student, there will be many things I need to consult you about. For one, I know very little about Deepblue."


    He paused, then continued, "Furthermore, I feel our relationship could absolutely be deepened, linked more intimately through another form. For instance, a marriage contract."


    Minnie stiffened, looking up sharply at Stevenson. She opened her mouth to say something but forced herself to hold back. Her chest heaved rapidly, calming only after several deep breaths. She lowered her legs from the armchair, sat up straight, and adopted a businesslike tone. "This is the first time we''ve met. We can hardly claim to know each other, let alone harbor any affection. Don''t you think it''s rather premature to say such things?"


    Stevenson smiled. "My dear Miss Minnie, as direct descendants of prominent families, you should know that our marriages do not require affection. Mutual tolerance is already a fine outcome. What binds us are family and interests, not to mention our shared pursuits.


    "As for understanding, I assure you, I already know quite enough about you. In his bid to successfully propose to you, Randolph gathered every piece of information he could find. Naturally, after recent events, someone delivered the same intelligence to me. As for myself, I trust you have heard things, and there will be ample time in the future for you to learn more.


    "Lastly, and perhaps most importantly, the Neo Marquisate and the Solam Duchy need to form an alliance, one necessarily cemented by marriage. Within the Neo family, there is currently no better candidate for this union than yourself. Therefore, if you do not choose me, would you truly prefer to marry one of my brothers?"


    "I don''t have to marry anyone!" Minnie retorted coldly.


    Stevenson smiled calmly. "Now that''s dishonest. If you were to do that, you would have to leave the Neo family. And without the Marquis''s support, I doubt you could afford your tuition fees, even though they are merely a fifth of mine. Besides, I''ve heard Her Highness strongly dislikes people owing her money."


    Seeing Minnie fall into contemplation, Stevenson shrugged. "And, you see, I''m not an entirely disagreeable person. As for you, Miss Minnie, if I required a wife, it would be difficult to find a better candidate. I suggest you consider my proposal carefully, though there''s no need for an immediate decision. The greatest virtues of us mages are reason and composure."


    Just then, Helen Su''s voice came from outside the drawing-room. "Those are indeed virtues of mages, true enough. But mages aren''t sorcerers. Sorcerers are fundamentally quite mad."


    Helen Su drifted into the room, depositing herself directly into the main armchair, then tugged a nearby crimson silk cord. With a pleasant chime, a side door opened, and six dark-skinned servants entered single file, carrying dedicated red tea tables, incense burners, and, inevitably, a dazzling golden basin filled entirely with the Legendary Mage''s snacks.


    After settling herself comfortably, Helen Su ordered, "Go fetch Blackgold!"


    An apprentice immediately dashed off, returning moments later with the Ash Dwarf Archmage hurrying behind him. Blackgold''s full name was Blackgold Savjek Stormhammer. The Stormhammers were a major Ash Dwarf clan, large enough to have established their own kingdom. Blackgold, however, was a peculiar Ash Dwarf, disliking strong spirits but possessing an equally profound insight into ores and jewels. His unique magical talent, fanatical love for collecting gold coins, and exceptional appraisal skills had ultimately secured him the high position of the Legendary Mage''s financial officer.


    Taking a sheet of paper handed over by the dwarf and glancing at it, Helen Su''s perpetually taut little face gradually relaxed. Only then did she remember Stevenson still standing there in the drawing-room. She nodded towards him. "You must be that Stevenson, right? Not bad. No need to stand, sit down!"


    Stevenson chose a sofa on the periphery and sat down properly, his expression unusually serious, even slightly pale.


    Helen Su continued reading the document intently, speaking somewhat distractedly, "A Dragon Sorcerer, eh? Good, very rare. What kind of dragon bloodline?"


    "Red Dragon," Stevenson replied respectfully, his face growing even paler.


    Helen Su''s gaze swept over a line of small text, underlined by Blackgold to indicate importance. After reading it, a few rays of sunshine broke through the lingering gloom on the Legendary Mage''s face. She explained with uncharacteristic patience, "I''ve bullied many dragons, killed quite a few too. Over time, I''ve acquired an aura that intimidates them. Since you have draconic blood, being near me will undoubtedly make you uncomfortable."


    "You are truly admirable!" Stevenson said, and this was genuinely heartfelt. The effect Helen Su possessed, akin to a Reverse Dragon Fear, wasn''t natural; it was the accumulated result of dying dragons'' curses. The curses themselves couldn''t truly harm Helen Su, of course, but the Reverse Dragon Fear wasn''t meant to aid the Legendary Mage in combat; it served as a warning to other dragons. Dragons could sense her approach from a hundred kilometers away. Just how many dragons had to fall for such an aura to form around this woman?


    The last few paragraphs of the document were heavily marked by Blackgold, with emphasis added and even several lines of fine annotations. It was a list of goods¡ªDuke Solam''s tuition payment for Stevenson. As her eyes reached the final lines, the Legendary Mage''s face bloomed like spring flowers, radiating sunlight. She desperately wanted to laugh but managed to restrain herself in front of her new student. A Legendary Mage''s decorum was, after all, quite important.


    "Um... Stevenson, was it! Come, sit closer. These fruits aren''t bad, you can try some!" In her excellent mood, the Legendary Mage felt magnanimous enough to share her snacks. After all, according to the list, Duke Solam had paid the full sponsorship fee, not the agreed-upon half.


    Stevenson moved closer as instructed but tactfully refrained from touching her snacks, even though several items genuinely tempted him to disregard everything and take a bite.


    After reviewing the list several more times, Helen Su reluctantly handed the paper back to Blackgold. Only then did she finally look up and regard Stevenson seriously. "How''s Solam doing lately? Reached Legendary rank yet? Though, he should be Legendary by now, right?"


    Stevenson immediately sat up straighter; he had been waiting for this question. "Father successfully advanced to the Legendary realm at the end of last year, becoming a Spellbreaker Shadowguard."


    A Spellbreaker Shadowguard was a warrior possessing both formidable physique and shadow powers, highly resistant to various forms of magic, even completely immune to many low-tier spells. While their absolute attack power might not be overwhelming, their rapid attacks and swift movements rivaled high-level rogues. Relying on masterful skill, they could close the distance in the shortest time and stick close to their opponents, making them the bane of spellcasting classes, hence the title "Spellbreaker."


    In Stevenson''s consideration, as fellow Legendaries¡ªeven though Solam had only just advanced¡ªhis class held a significant advantage, potentially making him a dangerous opponent for Helen Su. Despite this, Solam had still paid double the agreed sponsorship fee. This combination of formidable power and humble attitude should, Stevenson thought, convince Helen Su to treat him as a core disciple. Though even now, Stevenson didn''t understand why his father, having already agreed on a price, would voluntarily pay such a vastly greater sum.


    Hearing that Solam had become Legendary, Helen Su was indeed taken aback. "He advanced as a Spellbreaker Shadowguard?" she pressed.


    "Yes, I can confirm this."


    Helen Su''s expression froze for a moment, then she burst into laughter. "He actually chose Spellbreaker Shadowguard instead of Holy Judgment Warrior, which suits him best! That Solam! Seems that beating I gave him back then really left some psychological scars, serious ones! Heh heh, does that fool think becoming a Spellbreaker Shadowguard lets him get revenge on me? Looks like I need to teach him another, deeper lesson, so he understands that even as a Legendary expert, he must always remain humble before me! Oh hahaha! No, I really can''t wait!"


    The Legendary Mage had always been decisive and swift. Even as she spoke, she stood up, ordered her attendants to prepare her things, and strode towards the drawing-room''s terrace. It appeared she wasn''t willing to delay even a minute, intending to fly directly south to challenge Duke Solam immediately.


    Only after stepping onto the large, deep-red tiles of the terrace did Helen Su remember something. She turned back to Stevenson. "You''re my student now! But I''m busy with something important, no time to teach you. I''ll be back in ten days. Get familiar with Deepblue in the meantime. If you need anything, just ask Minnie. I''m off!"


    Helen Su transformed into a massive, burning meteor and shot into the sky. Stevenson remained frozen, halfway between sitting and standing, like a comical statue, utterly dumbfounded. He opened and closed his mouth several times, wanting to call her back, but ultimately dared not make a sound.


    Now he finally understood why Duke Solam had been willing to pay double the tuition fee and had specifically instructed him not to reveal that he had already become Legendary.

 Chapter 23: Shadows

    Stevenson''s arrival only caused a small splash in the deep blue sea, which soon disappeared into the rolling waves. Helen Su''s return ten days later was just as grand, but again it did not attract much attention. This was because every time the legendary mage returned, it was just as grand, even if it was just an outing to the White Deer Forest, which was only a hundred kilometers away. As for the outcome of the duel between the two legends, no one knows, and even Stevenson himself has not received any definite news from his family channels.


    Deep Blue, as always, is running in a tense but orderly manner, driven by a torrent of gold coins.


    Only Richard Jr. noticed that Helen Su''s joy had suddenly increased a lot this month, reaching a record high of 800,000 gold coins. This is a huge amount of money, anywhere but in Deep Blue. After receiving an unusually large amount of joy, Richard Jr. immediately noticed that his course load had increased as well, especially one of them, ¡°Fundamentals of Composite Magic Circuits,¡± which was taught by the Grand Magus alone. Naturally, the materials used to construct composite magic circuits were all high-level raw materials. As a result, in the price system of Deep Blue Abnormalities, Richard''s ¡°huge¡± income melted away like a snowball in the sun. It was expected that the additional income would be completely depleted by the summer, and by then, he would have to worry about maintaining a balance of income and expenditure.


    Erin still delivers food every day. Richard is eating more and more, in increasingly strange ways, and is becoming more and more demanding about the timing and frequency. What''s even more painful is that the food has a distinctly strange taste, and some of it is even hard to bear. But with Erin''s company and explanations, the whole process miraculously stops being hard.


    Every time Richard finished eating, Irene would show affection towards him in different ways. Sometimes it was a kiss, sometimes a caress, and sometimes just a hug. And under the guidance of the young girl, young Richard had gained a general understanding of the structure of a woman''s body. However, the affection would occasionally trigger the blood boiling in Richard''s body, which required him to suppress it in a way that bordered on meditation. But in his ignorance, Richard already sensed that something would happen soon. The fruit was still green, but his instincts were driving him to explore the depths of the young girl''s body. However, the young girl didn''t stay long after a meal, just five minutes at most. Every time the time was up, she would leave immediately, as precise as a magic pendulum.


    And on this day at the end of the month, it was time for the usual dessert after dinner.


    This time, the young girl took Richard''s hand and gently felt for a huge mother-of-pearl button on the front, the surface of which was slightly rough with an embossed pattern. Her senses, which had been sharpened by the food, were extra clear. So the contrast between the touch of her fingers sliding past it and the touch of the other, huge, plump mound was even more pronounced.


    Richard suddenly felt his body''s restlessness become extremely obvious. In a hurry, he glanced and saw that the buttons had come undone, and there was nothing in the way. The attraction of a young girl''s body was almost fatal at this moment. He suddenly pulled the girl''s last clothes off with all his strength, and the girl was only slightly flustered at first, but then she held Richard''s hand down, let him stand upright, and slid herself down against Richard''s body, then bowed her head.


    It was a fierce shower, and the fruit was almost ripe at once!


    Just as Richard was looking forward to another shower, Irene suddenly jumped up, saying anxiously, ¡°Oh, look, it''s almost time!¡± She hurriedly pulled her clothes together, grabbed the cutlery and dashed off.


    ¡°Will something happen tomorrow...¡± Richard wondered blankly, his heart still beating close to the limit, so fast that it made him feel a little breathless.


    The next day, the hoped-for event did not take place. Irene seemed to be preoccupied, and her small face was suffused with an unconcealable gloom. When Richard asked about it, she refused to say anything. After the meal, Irene grabbed Richard''s hand and placed it on her chest, pressing it gently before hurrying off.


    Affection comes at a price. For any level of contact, Irene charges a gold coin. Richard, who is now familiar with the prices in Deep Blue, naturally knows that a gold coin is nothing at all, and it may not even be enough to feed a young girl. So he always asks the young girl a lot of questions and pays for them. However, the young girl also enforces her own strict standards, charging exactly the value of the information itself, and is not willing to take any more.


    In fact, most of the information she can obtain is not worth much. The most expensive piece of information is that after the magical duel, all of Papen''s followers disappeared from the deep blue, and some of them never seemed to return to their families. In addition, the entire duel is said to be related to Randolph, another student of Helen Su. Eileen set the price for this piece of information at one hundred and twenty gold coins. Apart from this, there is no information that costs more than fifty gold coins. So Richard knew that all the gold coins he had paid since January were not enough to support the young girl''s magical studies for a single day. Of course, this was calculated according to his own standards.


    From that day on, Irene''s attitude suddenly changed. Her contact with Richard became very restrained, and no matter how intimate they became, they would never actually pluck the fruit.


    Although, the fruit was already beginning to ripen.


    Richard also sensed Irene''s change, but no matter how hard he pursued the matter or tried to find out indirectly, he could not get an answer. However, when he focused on eating carefully, his peripheral vision occasionally swept past, and behind the girl''s bright smile, he saw another Irene sobbing. So Richard''s world also became dark. Apart from the daily study and practice that was a given, Richard could not muster any enthusiasm for anything else. And indeed, nothing special happened in the following month. The only exception was that at a public lecture attended by a few hundred people, a man named Stevenson came over to say hello and introduced himself as a student of Helen Su''s as well.


    Time passed as usual, and summer arrived without a sound.


    Erin became increasingly hurried, and she clearly began to distance herself from Richard. Eventually, she stopped accepting the daily gold coin. As a result, the special meals became increasingly difficult to stomach, while the portions continued to grow over time. Richard had obviously grown taller and stronger. He had added basic physical fitness to his curriculum, exercising in the manner of a professional soldier. Over time, Richard''s magical training speed gradually accelerated, which he found incredible himself, because most of his time was still taken up by his heavy workload.


    With the arrival of summer, the floating ice bay also entered its most beautiful season. The sea was calm like satin, the glaciers were a mysterious blue, the sky was washed blue, the air was clear and pure, and all the vegetation was showing the most vibrant colors of the year, colorful and splendid. The number of tourists has increased significantly, and the beautiful people sunbathing on the beach have become a beautiful sight. However, Richard is in no mood to appreciate the view; his heart remains gloomy.


    That night, as usual, Irene left Richard''s living area. The moment the heavy metal door closed, a magical symbol on the corner of her garment flashed once, sending a message wave far away. In the shadows in the distance stood a mage, wrapped head to toe in a dark magician''s robe. His sharp gaze was always on the young girl, pricking her and causing her to involuntarily quicken her pace. It wasn''t until the girl had gone far away that the mage glanced at the magical timer in his hand. The message he received indicated that Erin had left Richard''s residential area within the specified time. He then nodded, wrapped his magical robe tighter, and disappeared into the depths of darkness.


    Erin walked quickly towards the passage to the upper levels. The teleportation spell was convenient, but it was also expensive. Only magicians with official positions in the navy could afford to use it frequently. The passage was just a bit more time-consuming, and anyone with a basic knowledge of martial arts could climb from the bottom to the top in one go, so the passage was the preferred choice for most people. The young girl hurriedly walked around the corner, but suddenly noticed that there was someone standing in front of her. She was so unprepared that she almost bumped into the person''s arms!


    The young girl let out a startled cry, but fortunately her young body reacted quickly and she did not actually bump into the other person. She said sorry and then brushed past the other person, but her hand was tightly grasped by the other person. It was a very strong hand, and Irene was completely unable to break free, and even her wrist hurt so much that it felt like her bones were about to crack.


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    ¡°Your name is Irene?¡° This was a tall young mage with a soft voice, but the steady force coming from the hand, which showed no sign of letting go, made the sensitive Irene know that this person''s temper was actually not good.


    ¡°I am Irene. How should I address you?¡± Irene politely asked, and without saying a word, tried to pull back the seized hand, but her efforts were fruitless.


    ¡°My name is Stevenson. Since you also make a small fortune selling information, you should know who I am,¡± the young mage said with a smile.


    Under his sharp, cold gaze, Irene felt like a frog that had been stared at by a snake. Her body suddenly broke out in a cold sweat, and her wet clothes stuck to her body, which was incredibly uncomfortable. When the young mage announced his name, her heart immediately and completely turned cold. Of course she knew who Stevenson was. Deep blue belongs to Helen Su, and every student that His Highness takes on is headline news in the deep blue. Although she could already sense Stevenson''s malice clearly, the other party''s identity left her powerless to resist. In addition to her horror, a sense of despair welled up within her.


    ¡°Honourable Mr. Stevenson, I have always left on time, absolutely never delayed, and I have never done anything out of line! Do you still have any requests of me?¡± Irene cried out in some alarm in her panic.


    Stevenson leaned slightly forward, bringing his face close to Irene''s, and with his right hand first stroked the girl''s waist and then worked his way up, fully exploring the supple breasts, which were not very large but full and firm. Only then did he lift the girl''s chin and forcefully tilt her face up. The two faces were so close together that their noses almost touched.


    ¡°I heard that you receive a gold coin from Richard every day. Now, you will tell me the whole story of how you obtained this gold coin.¡± Stevenson''s voice became lower and lower, and it carried a strange rustling sound, like a snake spitting out its bloody tongue. And as he spoke, he really did spit out a long tongue like a lizard, licking past the girl''s lips.


    Irene felt cold all over. Stevenson gradually exuded an aura that made her feel extreme fear. Even her body began to stiffen gradually, similar to the feeling of being under a weak fear technique. This should be some kind of bloodline ability, but it made her feel even more desperate. It was rare even in the Dark Blue to be able to manifest a bloodline ability at such a young age.


    However, Stevenson''s words made the young girl''s eyes light up. She found the strength to push Stevenson away with a sudden movement and shouted, ¡°You''re not from the Law Enforcement Mage Guild!¡±


    Stevenson was taken aback, then laughed playfully, saying, ¡±I really didn''t expect that. You''re very clever! It''s true that I''m not a member of the Law Enforcement Mage Guild, but...¡±


    ¡°No buts! Don''t you ever try to touch me again! If you want to force your way in, you can, but I''ll scream.¡± The girl''s voice was getting louder and louder. This was a very remote area, and each area had very good effects for controlling the direction and cumulative amount of sound waves transmitted, in order to avoid excessive noise echoes. Therefore, the girl''s voice could not actually travel very far, and it was useless to scream louder. The point was that every public area in Deep Blue was equipped with magical recording equipment, and the girl''s scream was just to make the magical recording equipment record it. Deep Blue was the realm of the legendary mage. If Stevenson used violence to obtain the Maiden''s body, it would not be long before Helen Su found out. Given the legendary mage''s temper, the best that Stevenson could hope for would be to be beaten up like Randolph and then stripped of his status as an apprentice and expelled from Deep Blue.


    Everyone in Deep Blue had a corresponding price, and the Maiden knew her own value well. She believed that no sane person would give up their status as an apprentice to the legendary mage in order to obtain her body.


    Stevenson did stop, and there was no sign of further aggression. The girl did not dare to provoke him either, for there was something about the man that made her shiver. So Erin did not linger any longer, but turned and ran in the direction of the teleportation array. Even if it meant paying a lot more, she did not want to get any closer to Stevenson.


    ¡°Perhaps you could reconsider,¡± came Stevenson''s voice from behind Erin, along with another sound that made her hesitate ¨C the crisp sound of gold coins clinking together.


    ¡°At least two hundred gold coins!¡° The delicate sound of the impact made the girl instinctively judge the approximate number of gold coins. So she slowly stopped and looked back.


    ¡°It''s safe anyway...¡± the girl thought, but her heart was beating faster and faster.


    Stevenson was still standing in the same place, looking at her like a wolf staring at its prey, smiling calmly and confidently. A beautifully crafted leather purse was bouncing up and down in his right hand, making a seductive clinking sound as it did so. The purse was not large, but it was bulging enough that at first glance, Irene was even more certain of her initial assessment: at least two hundred gold coins. Moreover, her extensive experience, keen senses, and the dim environment led the young girl to discover that the purse was radiating a faint magical glow. This is a purse made of enchanted leather!


    Enchanted leather is very expensive, and it is even more rare to use enchanted leather to make a money bag. Unless you are a direct descendant of a real noble family, you simply cannot afford such a luxury. A money bag enchanted with exquisite craftsmanship can either increase the actual storage capacity of the bag, or make the bag itself and its contents lighter. Next in importance is durability, and even the worst purely decorative glitter can make a money bag worth far more than the gold coins it can hold.


    Stevenson''s smile was growing more and more like a viper''s, while the frog felt powerless to escape. ¡°I just touched you, so these are your dues. Come, come, take it!¡±


    Erin could only feel a dryness in her throat and could not say a word. She wanted to turn around and run immediately, but her feet moved little by little in the direction of Stevenson, while all kinds of chaotic thoughts kept colliding with each other in her mind.


    ¡°He won''t force me anymore, and he already touched me just now, so this money is just compensation for what has already happened, isn''t it...¡± As her thoughts became increasingly confused, Irene suddenly found that she had unknowingly walked up to Stevenson. And as if he knew what she was thinking, Stevenson simply grabbed her hand, placed the money bag in the palm of her hand, and then said with a devilish smile, ¡±The money bag is also yours.¡±


    ¡°But, I...¡± Irene felt her throat dry up and she couldn''t say a complete sentence. She felt that something was wrong, but she couldn''t put her finger on it.


    ¡°I know you need money badly right now, and the tradition of Deep Blue is to emphasize fair and voluntary transactions. So I''ll give you some advice. If...¡± Stevenson paused for a moment, and his gaze swept from top to bottom over the young girl''s body, immediately causing her to shiver, before he continued, ¡±if you can maintain your current physical condition and go to bed with me, you will definitely get a satisfactory reward. For example, I can repay all your debts for you...¡±


    ¡°No, I can''t...¡± Irene shook her head vigorously, her face pale, taking a step back with each step, her hands clutching the money bag so tightly that her knuckles turned blue from the force.


    Stevenson stood with his arms crossed, not in the least bit intent on forcing her hand, but saying, ¡±No rush, you can take your time to think it over. My offer is valid for one month.¡±


    Irene suddenly turned around and sprinted away.


    Behind Stevenson, Minnie appeared like a ghost. Her pale eyes stared at the figure of the fleeing girl and said coldly, ¡°People who live on the margins of society will do anything for money. Is this the kind of person you like? If so, then don''t even think about touching me.¡±


    Stevenson suddenly laughed, saying in a low voice, ¡±Our marriage contract is already in place, and according to the rules, I can touch you however I like now!¡±


    He pulled Minnie close to him and inserted his right hand directly into her mage''s robe, rubbing it vigorously. Minnie''s face had turned pale with anger, but her struggles and resistance were futile. Seventeen-year-old Stevenson was strong and completely suppressed Minnie, who was still a young girl.


    ¡°The teacher won''t let you go!¡± Minnie cried out hysterically. She waved her hands and kicked, resisting in vain, as if she had completely forgotten that she was a magician and a young girl who had just come of age.


    ¡°Teacher?¡± Stevenson sneered, ¡±If it weren''t for the Solam''s financial support, could you even afford to pay for Deep Blue''s tuition? A lot has changed in a month. Without our Solam''s assistance, the Marquis of Neo might not even be able to keep his own territory. He would hate to exchange every gold coin for enchanted arrows, and still have the energy to support a talented daughter studying in Deep Blue? Don''t be naive. If he really had the ability, why would he sell you to the Thorams?¡±


    Hearing the word ¡°sell,¡± Minnie''s face immediately paled a little. In terms of the deal behind this marriage contract, the nakedness and urgency of the exchange of interests is actually not much different from buying and selling.


    ¡°Without me, dear Minnie, your carefree life in Deep Blue, the dazzling aura of a direct disciple of the legendary wizard, could all be gone tomorrow! Have you really thought this through?¡± Stevenson''s words were as cold as the wind of a frozen hell, blowing Minnie''s whole body stiff, her struggles growing increasingly weak and feeble. And his hand was just as cold as his voice, slowly sliding downward. ¡°My dear Minnie, if you''ve thought it over, then please spread your legs.¡±


    Minnie suddenly shuddered violently, and tears welled up in her tightly shut eyes.


    Stevenson, on the other hand, resumed his elegant aristocratic tone of voice, even smiling, and said, ¡°As for Irene, there''s only one reason I''m interested in her: our young Richard obviously has some kind of a crush on her, so I need to make her mine first. And you will definitely help me with this matter of Richard.¡±


    ¡°My dear Minnie, you have been so focused on your studies of magic that you have not paid attention to the outside world for a long time, not even to the news from the family, have you? You probably don''t know who attacked the Marquis of Neo. But it''s okay, I can tell you, she is the Viscountess Elize Akmond. And our young Richard''s full name is Richard Akmond. My dear, do you see the connection now? Oh, you should actually feel lucky. If it had been young Richard''s father, Lord Akmond, who had attacked Neo, your father would not have survived to see the arrival of our Solam forces! Do you really think you deserve a Solam marriage contract if that had happened? If that had happened, you would not have been fundamentally different from Irene from the Lower Edge. The daughter of a marquis who has lost his lands can be bought back with gold, and even if she costs more than Irene, she can still be valued in gold.¡±


    ¡°Well, having said all that, you should know that Richard is our common enemy. So help me, my dear.¡±


    Stevenson patted Minnie on the face, and then looked satisfied as she gazed at Richard''s settlement with undisguised hatred in her eyes.

 Chapter 24: If its winter...

    Richard''s sky had been overcast all summer due to Eileen''s sudden change. Whenever he had a moment to spare, the smiling yet weeping face of the young girl would appear in his mind, and no matter how hard he tried, he could not drive it away. His heart was filled with the image of Eileen. With extraordinary intelligence and a gift for precision, every word, every smile, every movement of hers was completely restored in his mind, down to the smallest detail of her body, including the most mysterious areas that had not yet been fully explored.


    His state of mind could change.


    Not long ago, every fragment of memory brought sunshine, joy, trepidation and more anticipation for the next day. But now, these memories are superimposed day after day, and eventually the warmth burns into searing intensity, like pieces of a red-hot iron, scorching his immature heart, leaving a thin trail next to that deep scar.


    Richard knew that Eileen had changed a lot in these few days, and that she was troubled, but he didn''t know the reason why, and every time he asked, there was no result. Only at this moment did Richard realize that apart from Eileen, he didn''t have anyone to talk to. Yes, in Deep Blue, he didn''t have any friends, not a single one. Although he was Helen Su''s personal disciple, after being in Deep Blue for a year, Richard had only met his teacher three times. In fact, apart from the teaching magisters, he spent the most time with Eileen.


    Whenever he was alone, Richard''s heartache was especially clear, and occasionally it even hurt like the raging fire that only appeared in the depths of his dreams. Only by hiding away in the vast world of magic and knowledge could he regain his peace of mind, focusing on complex formulas, curves, magic, and extradimensional creatures.


    Summer was like winter.


    This summer Richard is amazing. In every field of study, he has exploded, and many times the results he has produced have left the knowledgeable Grand Magi speechless. There is nothing to say except praise the wise and great, the ever-right Helen Su. And in a very limited amount of time, Richard''s magical power has once again accelerated, and he will reach the standard of a second-level magician by the end of summer. Outside the field of magic, Richard''s performance is also equally shocking. Philosophy, history, politics, economics ¨C the young boy was like a desert that had gone dry, voraciously absorbing every drop of knowledge. Even the most discerning of artists was left speechless after seeing the painting Richard had submitted.


    It depicted the back of a young girl carrying a large lunchbox, walking quickly down a dimly lit corridor. The fleeting silhouette captures her depression, sadness, slight panic and fear, and even the corner of the floating magic robe makes people mistakenly believe that it will continue to move with the wind. For some reason, the lunchbox seems to be the focal point of the picture, and the brushstrokes are used differently from those of the portrait. If the movement of the portrait is superbly portrayed, the lunchbox seems to be standing still, heavy as a boulder, pulling the viewer''s heart downwards. The entire painting is in monochrome, and no second painting tool was used. It was all sketched with a magic quill, with countless fine, dense lines of varying shades coming together to form this breathtaking painting.


    This painting made the great painter look at it for a whole hour, but he still had difficulty giving it a critique. Finally, he let out a long sigh and said to his assistant, ¡°To recreate reality, you just need to break through a critical point, and the original will become art. This painting, which only captures this moment, is enough to become eternal!¡±


    The assistant was dumbfounded, not expecting such a comment from the master for a simple sketch in plain colors. However, as one of the few people who almost reached the pinnacle of the Holy Alliance''s art, the master''s comment was definitely not wrong. Since it had been praised by the master himself, this painting could easily sell for tens of thousands of gold coins in the outside world. The only thing limiting its further appreciation is that Richard is still alive and seems to be able to live for a long time. But for a work like this, it is possible that Richard will not create it again for a long time in the future.


    The master sighed for a long time, finally shook his head heavily, waved his assistant away, and sat in front of the easel, staring at the portrait of the young girl. Before he knew it, it got dark, and the studio became dim. But a ball of fire, lit purely by magic, appeared next to the master, adding a little dim light to the studio. In the dim light, the appeal of this sketch in plain colors was truly revealed without reservation, making the viewer feel as if they were in that dark, cold, empty corridor with no end in sight.


    ¡°How many years has it been since I last saw a work like this? This child...it must have hurt when he painted her,¡± the master muttered to himself. He, too, had been young once, and had created his most brilliant works during the most painful times. However, after achieving success and fame, it was no longer easy to find the passion and impulse of those times. Looking at this painting was like seeing Richard, that beautiful, silent but wild and passionate young man at heart.


    The master suddenly became anxious, unable to sit still in his chair. He stood up and paced back and forth in front of the painting, as if there was a difficult decision inside him. After wandering for a full hour, the master''s gaze fell on the corner of the studio. There was an exquisite magic table, which was a bit out of place with the overall casual style of the studio. The magic table is a special device for activating monthly bills. It should be placed in a suitable space and installed securely, but the master is a bit undisciplined, so this expensive and important device is casually thrown in the corner of the studio. It is only when it has to be used that it is pried out of the corner among the piles of discarded drafts. Seeing the magic table, the master naturally thought of the monthly bills and Helen Su''s joy.


    The master hadn''t seen the legendary mage''s joy in months.


    And this painting... This painting was so vivid that the master couldn''t even pretend not to see it. It meant something special, and it was one of the few special circumstances that the legendary mage had specifically listed as needing to be reported. If it wasn''t reported, the master could guess with his toes that the ensuing result would be the legendary mage''s rage. The Master could struggle between art, conscience and the joy of Helen Su, but between conscience and Helen Su''s rage, there was simply no room for him to choose.


    The Master, with a face of pain, reached out and removed the statue of the maiden, carefully wrapped it, and then hurriedly left the studio.


    An hour later, the statue of the maiden was placed in front of Blackgold.


    The Dwarf Grey kept the Master waiting for a full 40 minutes, before crawling out from under the pile of gemstones that had covered the entire workbench and blocked half the passageway. Then he spent a minute listening to the Master''s explanation. Deep blue is the world of magic, and the world of gold coins, but there is nothing about art. The Dwarf Grey had one foot halfway up the side of the Magic Peak, while the other was standing at the summit of the Gold Coin Mountain. Therefore, although his physical height just reached the Master''s chest, his mental height was just the opposite.


    The master''s explanation The Dwarf didn''t listen to a word of it. He skipped over all the explanatory sentences and grasped the main point: Richard''s work, one of the items that Her Highness Helen Su had specifically requested be reported on. Upon hearing this, Blackgold didn''t dare to be negligent either. With those hard and rough hands covered in calluses as thick and hard as a monster''s scales, he carefully tore open the wrapping paper, revealing the statue of the young girl inside.


    There was silence.


    The Grey Dwarf''s eyes hardly moved as they fixed on the statue of the young girl, his lips moving rapidly as he muttered something to himself. The master was deeply shocked. He had never imagined that Blackgold would be able to see and be moved by the fleeting charm of the painting. The master suddenly felt that he had been prejudiced against the Grey Dwarf. Who said that this race did not understand art at all?


    Blackgold suddenly let out a breath of air, rubbed his sore eyes, and said, ¡°That''s it?¡±


    ¡°Huh? Yes...¡± The master was a little confused.


    ¡°This painting hasn''t been colored yet, has it?¡±


    ¡°...¡±


    The master struggled to suppress his heart, which was beating fast and slow at the same time. After taking a long breath, he reluctantly replied, ¡±This is a plain painting.¡±


    The gray dwarf suddenly understood, took another look at the portrait of the young girl, and commented, ¡°Well, she hasn''t fully developed yet, but her figure and looks should be average. I''m judging by your human standards. If I were to judge by our Stormhammer traditions, hmm... Aha! I see, the lunchbox! That''s the lunchbox specially made for Richard! What perfect details and proportions, not a single line out of place, just like Richard! You know, that Archmage Lodan, who teaches magic circles, has praised him three times this week already. How many times has he done that this year? Let me see, fifty or seventy... quite a lot anyway! You have to understand, the old guy hasn''t praised anyone that many times in the past ten years combined!¡±


    The Archmage really couldn''t express how he felt, and unable to explode at Blackgold, he could only guide him patiently, ¡°If you look closely, the painting captures that moment...¡±


    The Grey Dwarf looked carefully, looked again, looked again... and finally felt that the painting should be painted with some color.


    As he left Blackgold''s office, the Master felt almost as grey as Richard. An unprecedented sense of defeat had almost made him lose his artistic confidence. He never understood why this master appraiser of jewelry, magical equipment and antiques knew so little about painting, and every word of layman''s talk he uttered was deeply damaging.


    Behind the master, the two bronze doors to the Grey Dwarf''s office slowly closed. The doors were twice as tall as those in the rest of the building, which meant that the Grey Dwarf''s office was also twice as high. So these two antique and magnificent doors, which represented wealth and status, had always been the object of envy and hatred for many people in the Dark Blue. The reason why the Grey Dwarf, who was only half the height of a tall human, had made his office area so high was self-evident.


    When the door closed, the gray dwarf behind it suddenly sneered, muttering, ¡°The boss''s joy is not something that can be obtained so easily.¡± In his cabinet, if you count the statue of the young girl, the events that have made Helen Su ¡°happy¡± have filled most of the cabinet, totaling 67 items.


    The grey dwarf instinctively walked over to the gemstone ore, but frowned and stopped. He turned back to the desk, reopened the girl''s portrait, and examined it carefully for more than ten minutes. He then closed it and, after hesitating for a moment, put the portrait in a smaller cabinet. The smaller cabinet also contained events or reports intended to make Helen Su ¡°happy¡±, but there were only five in total, and the painting was placed in second place. Unlike the large cabinet, the reports in this cabinet will soon meet the legendary mage. And the contents of the large cabinet may be dumped out in a few months, just like the abandoned mine.


    The entire summer seemed to pass in the blink of an eye for Richard. In just one more day, the Harvest Festival would begin, marking the beginning of autumn and the end of the fishing season in the Iceberg Bay. On this day, the millions of people in Iceberg Bay who made their living from the sea would hold a grand celebration to thank the sea god for providing food to get through the long, harsh winter. The dark blue located in Iceberg Bay also made this day a holiday, which was considered to be the official sign of the beginning of autumn.


    The Harvest Festival meant nothing to Richard. All his time was taken up with finishing his homework, which was so heavy that it would take forever to finish, meditating to accumulate magic power, and practicing his magic skills. He had to fill his time completely, otherwise his thoughts would bubble up like water, popping up here and there.


    On the evening of the harvest festival, Eileen arrived at Richard''s settlement on time to deliver his dinner. The heavy lunchbox was already difficult for the young girl to carry with just one arm, but it was expected to continue to gain weight in the foreseeable future. While Richard buried his head in cleaning the food, Eileen sat quietly on the side, silently watching. Now that the two no longer had a trade of one gold coin between them, they rarely even spoke. Therefore, Eileen had not received a single gold coin from Richard during this period of time. Eating was now a complete ordeal for Richard. The girl''s melancholy could not be hidden no matter how hard she tried, but she refused to disclose the reason. So Richard was suffering, but there was nothing he could do about it.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.


    The last piece of dessert was swallowed by Richard with great determination, and then he looked up and looked at the girl for the first time. He wanted to say thank you habitually, but the rows of numbers that appeared on the girl''s body made him freeze on the spot! The girl''s body had changed. In the digitalized vision, the original subtle changes were infinitely magnified and presented extremely prominently before his eyes.


    Her breasts had increased slightly, and they were not symmetrical, which obviously was not a natural growth, but caused by external injury. And her movements also seemed unnatural, especially her legs occasionally trembling lightly, and her waist moving quietly non-stop. It seemed that sitting on the heavily brocaded cushion made her feel tingling. The girl''s eyes were slightly swollen and redder than usual, as if she had cried hard not long ago. Today, the girl''s magician''s robe was wrapped extra tightly, but an area of bruising on her neck was revealed in an inadvertent movement. Moreover, her heartbeat was much faster than usual. Compared to himself, Richard''s heart only beat so fast when he had just experienced something very important.


    All the signs combined immediately made Richard think of an answer, one that he found completely unbelievable. When he turned eleven, Richard didn''t know anything about the enlightenment of noble children at the age of seven or eight, but now that he was eleven and a half and Eileen had taken him most of the way, he already knew all about the things that must happen between adult men and women.


    ¡°You...have a man?¡± Richard''s voice was dry and hoarse, and he could hardly recognize it himself.


    Eileen''s body trembled, and her face instantly paled. When the truth of the matter was revealed, she slowly calmed down instead, raised her hand to fix her slightly messy hair at the side of her face, and said, ¡°Yes, last night.¡±


    Richard took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and stopped looking at the hopeless numbers jumping in front of his eyes. ¡®Why?¡¯ His voice was as calm as Eileen''s, but it had a chilling coldness to it.


    ¡°I need money.¡±


    ¡°I have a lot!¡± Ever since noticing Eileen''s changes, Richard had been poking his head out like a bird breaking out of its shell to learn about the outside world. Although he still didn''t have a single friend he could talk to, at least Richard had come to understand that he couldn''t measure the others in Dark Blue by his own standards. Take spending money alone as an example, his monthly income was enough to let dozens of people in Dark Blue live well.


    Eileen''s face paled. She gave Richard a deep look, shook her head, and said softly but firmly, ¡°But I don''t want to earn your money.¡±


    She packed the lunch box as usual, and when she reached the door, she turned back and said, ¡±I forgot to tell you, starting tomorrow, someone else will deliver your meals. So...goodbye, Richard.¡±


    The metal isolation door slowly closed. When the sound of a heavy impact came, Richard suddenly felt as if he had lost all his strength and slumped against the back of his chair. He grasped his hair and tried hard to believe that nothing had just happened, but not only his two gifts of inspiration, but also all the qualities cultivated since childhood reminded him of this cold and cruel truth. However, he could not understand why Eileen would not want to earn his money.


    At this time, Richard did not understand that when one is young, one will always have certain inexplicable insistence, and be moved by it, but often inadvertently let the truly important things slip through one''s fingers.


    Autumn is like winter.


    The early autumn in the Bay of Drifting Ice is already very cold, and late autumn is no different from severe winter, except that one can tell the difference from the bright colors of vegetation that have not yet faded.


    Throughout the autumn, Richard suddenly erupted with great energy, as if a long-dormant volcano had suddenly erupted. The level of his obsession with learning and acquiring knowledge shocked the Archmages, who had been amazed at the speed of his progress during the summer. They could hardly believe that someone could squeeze so much out of their time, and yet it was happening in Richard''s small frame.


    Richard''s adjusted schedule left him no room for thinking, and his use of time was precise to the minute. Every day when he was extremely tired, he would immediately empty his mind, collapse into bed, and go to sleep, even dismissing the basic alertness cultivated by living in the mountains. Only in this way could Richard get the deepest sleep, restore the energy needed for a day of study in just three hours, and allow the magic of growth within those three hours of sleep to be no less than that gained from meditating for three hours.


    Reports flew to Blackgold like snowflakes, making the Grey Dwarf furious. He did his best to compress the number sent to the legendary mage''s desk, lest Her Highness Helen Su''s excessive joy overwhelm the already somewhat fragile balance of payments of Deep Blue. But the Grey Dwarf''s power sometimes ran out, and the records flew like a blowout in every corner of Deep Blue, and even many reports had enough energy to go directly past him and to Helen Su.


    As a result, Deep Blue''s balance sheet began to falter. Fortunately, Duke Thoram suddenly made a large additional sponsorship payment for some reason, and another self-funded disciple''s qualification was auctioned off at a sky-high price in the Millennium Empire, one of the three great human kingdoms, adding two large covers to Deep Blue''s financial reports for the autumn and winter seasons. However, the Grey Dwarves are not a short-sighted race, and Blackgold has a long-term strategic vision. In the past, he often worried about Deep Blue''s financial situation 300 years in the future. But the reality is that it won''t be 300 years before they can''t make ends meet.


    The Grey Dwarf is wasting away day by day, and his stout and stocky frame has miraculously revealed a hint of thinness. His coat, which obviously doesn''t fit, flutters with every punch he throws, like the fragile balance on the books. He deals with massive amounts of numbers every day, but his income is stable, while his expenses are always difficult to measure, and every time they exceed expectations in an unpleasant direction. Every profit margin eroded makes Blackgold feel like a piece of flesh has been ripped off his body. But the legendary mage''s joy is also not subject to the will of the Dwarf, and sometimes she even cheers for Richard''s small achievements.


    In the autumn, the only person in the Dark Blue who didn''t want to see ¡°Helen Su''s joy¡± was the Grey Dwarf.


    At his most desperate, the Grey Dwarf even had the idea of going after Helen Su''s personal purse. If only Your Highness would open up her purse just a little, the situation in the Dark Blue would be resolved. Blackgold was once enchanted by this idea. Your Highness''s exquisite little purse contains the wealth of countless dragons! Fortunately, he soon came to his senses and realized how stupid the idea was. Not even a dragon would dare to lay a finger on Helen Su''s purse, let alone a tiny grey dwarf.


    Blackgold was not deterred, and soon found his own motivation. If he could not solve the immediate predicament, then what was the use of him? A finance officer was not just someone who kept accounts; that was a job that even high elves could do.


    The Grey Dwarf was haggard, but Richard, whose mood was equally dismal, was the opposite.


    On the last day of late autumn, Richard stood naked in front of the full-length mirror, scrutinizing himself in the mirror. This was a body that was beginning to show signs of masculinity, with broad shoulders, two budding pecks, a rapidly tightening waistline, tight, powerful buttocks, and even elven-style slender yet explosive legs. His face had undergone slight changes. Perhaps it was because he hadn''t smiled in a long time, or perhaps it was because he had long been silent and thoughtful. The slight childishness and softness that had remained in the spring had all faded, and the edges and corners had begun to stand out, like steel rocks cleaved by a giant axe, with flowing magma buried within each line. As for those eyes, they were as calm as the bottom of a deep, dark abyss, gloomy and cold, unfathomable.


    Richard''s heart stirred slightly, and then his gaze fell to his lower body. There, his masculine features were already standing tall and proud, ready to pierce and conquer. They were already extraordinary, and there was still more room for growth in the future. Seeing his proud weapon, Richard finally managed to force a long-lost smile to his lips.


    He was already a man.


    However, at that moment, Eileen''s crisp yet heavy voice suddenly sounded in Richard''s ear: ¡°Yes, it was last night.¡±


    Richard''s body immediately trembled. He raised his hands to cover his ears, but halfway through the motion, he let them drop, because he knew that no matter how hard he tried, the conversation would be repeated in its entirety.


    ¡°Why? !¡±


    ¡°I need money.¡±


    ¡°I have a lot of it!¡±


    ¡°But I don''t want to earn it from you.¡±


    ...


    Richard no longer looked at himself in the mirror, but instead let the conversation echo in his ears as he strode towards the Enchanting Lab. In the corner of the laboratory stood a steel mannequin. It was originally used to test the power of magic, but now Richard used it to sharpen his fists. Whenever his heart was burned by the past and it hurt too much, he would use the mannequin to strengthen his physical strength and torture himself at the same time. This time was no different.


    Walking up to the steel mannequin, Richard stopped as usual. His legs were spread shoulder-width apart, in the exact position he needed to throw a punch, and he took a deep breath. The surface of the steel mannequin was very smooth, clearly reflecting Richard''s face. For some reason, seeing himself on the steel armor, Richard suddenly felt an uncontrollable surge of anger! He hated himself, and even more, he hated why he had not been able to discover Eileen''s predicament earlier, but instead indulged his own loss and waited in silence for an unacceptable outcome. The anger ignited the hidden bloodline, and the flowing blood instantly boiled and burned, turning into roaring lava that rushed straight to the top of his head!


    The burning blood suddenly gave Richard infinite power. Every blood vessel was about to burst under the pressure, and every meridian seemed to be about to be broken through the next moment. He let out a beast-like roar, swung his fist, and smashed it hard on the chest of the steel doll!


    The chest of steel collapsed and dented in response, and even appeared to have faint cracks. Not only the fist, but half of Richard''s forearm sank into the chest of the puppet. The violent power was so strong that it faintly formed a vortex with suction. The puppet was tightly sucked to the top of the fist, and the scope of deformation was still expanding. Finally, when all the pent-up power was released, the distorted puppet flew back violently, crashing heavily into the wall and deforming again.


    This is a standard magical puppet, with a defense comparable to a military-issue half-body armor. This means that the power of Richard''s punch is already enough to kill an elite knight wearing half-body steel armor from the front. If converted to energy levels, it is also comparable to a weakened fireball spell.


    So, on this day as autumn turned to winter, Li awakened the first of his bloodline abilities: explosion.


    Wintering is also like winter.


    Winter is a season of death for every native life form on this plane. Even creatures accustomed to living in frigid zones prefer spring and summer. That''s because in those seasons they can find more food, mate, reproduce, and store fat for late autumn and winter.


    Now the seasons made no difference to Richard. The young bird, who had originally looked curiously at the outside world, completely closed his eyes and sealed his senses. Richard didn''t care about anything outside, and just wildly threw himself into the world of magic. His magic power grew wildly again. During the time when the northern part of the floating ice bay froze, Richard''s magic power reached 24, which had already exceeded the standard of a third-level mage. Almost all of the mentors who taught Richard were ecstatic about his progress, with the exception of one person, and that was the master who taught him art.


    Richard''s paintings were breathtaking. They were all monochrome sketches, all drawn with a fine quill. At first, the pictures had a composition and lighting, and various characters appeared. According to the master''s teachings, portraits would give the picture a soul. However, the people in the paintings Richard submitted were appearing less and less, and the environment was becoming more and more oppressive. Later, there were simply no longer any living creatures in the paintings, and even the scenery gradually became blurred. But in the eyes of the master, these paintings became more and more powerful, like the dark sea, with only the slightest ripples on the surface, and a storm that could come at any time.


    Sometimes the master could not help but look closely at the lines. With each stroke, curve, and smoothness of the line, it was as if he could hear the soul''s cry from the depths of hell! Even a single line was so powerful! The master could not imagine what Richard must have been like when he was painting. One day, the master, who was only a 12th-level wizard, suddenly realized that he had become unable to withstand the mental impact of the paintings. However, his duty as a mentor made him have to carefully examine every painting Richard submitted.


    Richard''s paintings used less and less light, the scenery became increasingly blurry, and large shadows began to occupy larger areas. Finally, one day, when Richard handed in a ¡°painting¡± made entirely of messy lines, the master suddenly smashed every single thing in the studio that could be smashed!


    In the winter, there were two other minor things that slightly disturbed Richard''s life.


    One was that in one of the lessons, Richard once again met the young wizard who called himself Stevenson. The young wizard was very enthusiastic and had impeccable manners, fully displaying the etiquette of a noble child. As a direct disciple of Helen Su, he and Richard naturally had less of a barrier between them. Another student of the legendary wizard, Minnie, was also present. Usually cold and aloof, she seemed much livelier this time. After listening for a while, she not only took the initiative to join in, but also started several conversations.


    Both Stevenson and Minnie had a good command of magic, so the conversation was all about it. Richard didn''t want to talk to anyone, but the discussion of magic was an exception, so reluctantly he accompanied them for a short while. Fortunately, the lesson started soon, and Richard was able to return to his lonely ways.


    Throughout the conversation, Richard sensed their faint hostility from beginning to end. Although they hid it very well, some of the subtle physical details were captured by Richard''s innate talent for precision and analyzed by his intelligence. It was normal to be hostile. Almost everyone Richard met in Deep Blue was more or less hostile towards him, except Helen Su and Eileen. What he couldn''t understand was why Stevenson and Minnie, both of whom were more capable and had better backgrounds than he did, still held a grudge against him. But these two people didn''t really matter to Richard, and by the end of the day, he had almost completely forgotten about them.


    Another small thing was that he saw Eileen again. It was just a distant back view. In the largest trading area near the bottom floor, the flow of people was rolling, and it flashed by in an instant, but Richard knew it was her. Eileen was accompanied by a man, who openly put his arm around her waist in an intimate gesture. It didn''t matter where they were going or what they were doing, because everything had already shown that what needed to be done had already been done, and it didn''t matter if it was one more time or one less.


    Richard did not go after them, nor did he take a second look. The young man by Eileen looked a bit like Stevenson, but Richard did not pursue the comparison. It no longer mattered who was by the girl''s side, so Richard erased her and the man by her side from his mind, a fairly simple and easy process.


    It was still not easy to forget, but there were many ways to stop the pain. This might be considered one of Richard''s gains this winter.