Losing her parents and trying to survive in the harsh environment of the Lower City was nearly impossible for a small girl who appeared to be only four or five years old.
Everyone was struggling to survive for themselves, and having one more mouth to feed meant an additional expense. Char silently observed from the back of the
After a while, the elderly man at the head of the crowd leaned on his cane, slowly turned around to face the gathering onlookers, and tremblingly took out four copper coins from his pocket. He spoke softly, "We're all neighbors living on Sik Street. Those who can contribute, please come forward and pitch in a copper or two. Let's first help the poor little one bury her mother."
"Of course, as long as it doesn't affect your own lives... After all, helping others is always a matter of great shame," he added with a hint of embarrassment.
The old man seemed to be highly respected in the area, and after his words, the crowd fell into a brief silence before many of them reached into their pockets.
One coin from you, two from me, three from him...
Except for a few hesitant onlookers who quietly left, most of the people contributed in various amounts.
Soon, the old man's hand was filled with quite a few copper coins.
He counted the coins and there were around thirty of them, but the cheapest pine coffin would cost at least forty copper coins, not to mention the burial fees for the cemetery afterward.
But for this group of impoverished commoners, it was already their limit. They had their own families, wives, and even young children to care for.
The old man sighed and said, "It's okay, it's okay. Let me think of a solution... Perhaps we can ask Old Hep to make the coffin."
After discussing for a while, the crowd gradually dispersed.
For those who were hustling and bustling around to make a living, they didn't dare to linger too long even for acts of charity and compassion.
Soon, only two people remained at the entrance of the dirty alley.
The old man looked up and noticed a well-dressed young man standing before him, handsome and extraordinary in demeanor, seemingly out of place with the overall ambiance of Sikk Street.
He hesitated for a moment and then spoke in a humble tone, "May I ask who you are, sir?"
Char shook his head and smiled faintly. "Sir, you have a noble character. If you are willing, you can call me Char."
"So, Mr. Char?"
Upon hearing the gentle tone and refined manners of the other party, the old man immediately guessed that he was from the upper city. In the end, he still didn't directly call his name.
Char didn't mind and took out a shiny silver coin from his pocket, placing it gently in the old man's hand. "What should I address you?"
"Just call me Old Peter. As for you..."
"Calling me Old Peter is fine, but you... this is..." Clearly, Old Peter was shocked to suddenly find a substantial sum of money in his hand.
"This is for the child,"
Char responded, all the while carefully observing his expression, as if confirming something.
In the Helin Empire, depending on the regional and price differences, one silver coin can be exchanged for approximately one hundred copper coins. For the common people in the Lower City, this is worth more than a month's hard work.
The same goes for Old Peter.
After a moment, Old Peter took a deep breath and looked at Char with a serious expression. He said, "I'm sorry, sir, but human trafficking is prohibited here."
With that, he tried to return the silver coin to Char.
Char was somewhat surprised by this and didn't expect the misunderstanding. He chuckled and said, "You've got it wrong. This money is just for giving the child's mother a proper burial. The extra can be used for her daughter's expenses in the days to come."
It's quite understandable for the other person to think this way.
Certainly, for an "honorable" person from the upper city to just happen to pass by and show sudden generosity may sound a bit far-fetched.
But Char felt much more at ease due to this; at the very least, he realized that Old Peter wasn't the kind of person who would pocket the money for himself.
Not giving the money to him in front of a crowd earlier was based on this consideration. In an extremely impoverished place, keeping one's wealth hidden is a basic survival rule.
After accepting Peter's repeated thanks, Char turned his head and glanced at the shack.
At this moment, he happened to meet the eyes of the little girl who was crying miserably.
Her skin was a bit dark, and her appearance might not have been conventionally cute, but what struck Char was the fact that the little girl possessed a pair of gem-like, pure, and enormous eyes, resembling pieces of art found in a museum.
Char offered her a brief smile, then averted his gaze.
"Surely, you haven't had breakfast yet. This is freshly bought buttered toast from the bakery. Please share it with the child."
He handed over the remaining whole piece of toast from the paper bag to Mr. Peter, saying this.
"A truly kind-hearted person from the upper city. May you have health and happiness in the New week!" Mr. Peter's expression was filled with gratitude, and he gently tapped his chest with his fingers, a gesture of gratitude.
Upon hearing this, Char was stunned and asked, "New week today?" After receiving confirmation, he had a vague idea of what had happened to him.
It seems that time flows differently in the Abyss? Setting up the array and gathering materials took a little over a day, and it wasn't until late Saturday night that it was finally completed. Then the array was immediately activated.
I thought it was early Sunday morning, but it turns out it's already Monday.
It feels like I only spent a short time with the witch, but in reality, a whole day has passed. I wonder if this time differential is fixed or if it can change at any moment.
Char silently stored this information in his mind, planning to find a way to test it the next time he visited.
In the end, he declined the invitation to visit Peter's home and left Sik Street directly.
He didn't say anything to the child or give any extra instructions to Peter. After all, he wasn't doing it for gratitude.
....
Compared to the overall poverty of the lower city, the upper city is much larger and more prosperous, almost on par with the world of Char's previous life.
By the time Char rode back to the academy in a comfortable carriage through the center of the capital along the Rhine Avenue, it was already close to noon.
Indeed, Char Aznable, 16 years old, is a student currently attending the Norton Public Royal Academy for Magical Studies.
The academy is located in the heart of the capital city, occupying a prime piece of land. It was originally established with royal funding and primarily catered to the children of nobility. However, in recent years, they have occasionally admitted exceptionally talented students from common backgrounds.
Over a hundred years ago, this academy was primarily focused on training young knights. However, as magical theory advanced and public opinion shifted, more and more students started leaning towards magical studies. The reason was simply that the noble path of chivalry with swords and lances was no longer seen as prestigious, and casting spells was considered more elegant.
Knights and mages – this is the general divide between noble and commoner students.
Compared to the rigorous physical and mental training of the knightly path, practicing magic required substantial financial resources and materials, which commoner students couldn't afford. Thus, the knightly path, once seen as an honor, gradually became the bottom rung in the hierarchy of disdain used by nobles to differentiate the school's status.
And Char currently finds himself in a somewhat awkward situation.
Although he is about to inherit the title of a Viscount passed down by his deceased father, the Adelaide family now only consists of him and his younger sister. Moreover, over the past few years, his financial situation has been quite tight due to the expenses involved in gathering materials for the teleportation ritual. So, while he's officially a student in the knight program, he appears somewhat out of place.
He lacks the nobility's prestige and finds himself in an unbridgeable gap between the aristocracy and the common folk.
Therefore, Char doesn't have many friends at the academy.
Today is Monday, and Char has two classes in the morning. The first one is a general knowledge class without attendance records, and the second one is the mandatory physical training class for the knight department.
Unfortunately, the instructor for this class is a powerful knight who hails from the original Tower of Judgment. Due to a dark injury sustained during a mission, he had to take a back seat.
He also brought along the no-nonsense, strictly disciplined character of the Tower of Judgment.
This course is very difficult to pass, and the most basic requirement is not to be absent!
Due to missing a class because of his Abyssal journey, Char had to approach the instructor, hoping that he would show some leniency.
Fortunately, his displayed talents in the past were commendable. Even though he hadn't yet reached the level of a full-fledged knight, he was still one of the top students in the class.
Following the familiar path, Char passed through the area with tall, classical towers that bore the distinct Helian architectural style, arriving at the region where the instructor usually held their classes.
It was an area adjacent to a lake, similar in size to a soccer field, and was filled with various equipment such as iron dummies, weighted locks, wooden weapons, and more. This place served as the training ground for the knight program students. Instructor Sitar's office was located in an adjacent loft, overseeing the management of this area.
Char took a deep breath and knocked on the door of the loft.
"Come in."
A deep, slightly hoarse male voice rang out.
After receiving permission, Char pushed the door open and greeted, "Good afternoon, Mr. Sitar."
"Oh, it's you."
The man seated behind the desk was burly, towering at least 6 feet tall. He had a rugged appearance, with tanned skin, and his face bore an indiscernible expression.
This was his mentor, Sitar. Although he seemed a bit stern, Char knew very well that he was a very responsible mentor.
Char once again bowed respectfully and said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Sitar. This morning, I suddenly..."
"In front of me, there's no need for that noble nonsense of yours. Double the training load for the next class. Consider this absence issue forgiven."
Before he could finish, Westar shook his head, chuckled lightly, and said, "Ah, that's enough."
Certainly, it's unusual for Westar to let it go without any explanation. Char felt a bit puzzled; he had expected the strict and disciplined nature of his instructor to come into play. Maybe this is one of the privileges of being an outstanding student? He had never experienced such leniency in his past life, and it was a small taste of it in this one.
He brightened up and bowed with a bit more enthusiasm. His voice slightly raised, he said, "Praise you, great Sir Knight!"
"However, there's something I need to remind you of." The teacher gave his star student a serious look and continued, "In recent times, when I've been giving lectures to the higher years, there have been some rumors coming from their side, and they seem to involve you. The details aren't very clear... You are my student, and I trust you won't do anything contrary to the spirit of a knight. So, be cautious about this matter."
"Rumors?" Char looked a bit puzzled.
As Char said goodbye to Mr. Sital and made his way back, he was lost in thought.
Who could it be?
What are the rumors about?
And why would they involve me?
With these questions on his mind, Char found himself back at his apartment without even realizing it.
Standing at the door, Char sighed and decided to put these questions aside for the time being, planning to inquire about them when the opportunity arose.
After all, Char didn't know many people among the older students, and if he had to mention someone, it would be just one person.
With these thoughts in mind, he pushed the door open, and the interior, decorated with a strong medieval style, instantly caught his eye: a sofa, a fireplace, oil paintings, a living room, and carpets... Overall, it looked very tidy, not at all like a typical guy's room.
A pair of dainty black maid's shoes sat quietly at the entrance, while the sound of running water could be heard faintly from the bathroom.