Zhao Yan couldn't help but feel a mix of sympathy and frustration. He thought his own world was tough enough, but it turned out that this one was just as grim. No matter where you go, the poor always seem to be the ones getting trampled. If the government could step in to protect these people, taxes would stabilize, but some folks just love to take the easy way out, ignoring the bigger picture. Without the lowest-income citizens to provide tax revenue, how long could those high-ranking officials and their so-called armies last?
After chatting a bit longer with the boy, the atmosphere suddenly shifted outside. The noise grew louder, and a man barged in through the door. Zhao Yan turned to see a scruffy old man, his face hidden behind a bushy beard, wrapped in a cloak. The old man looked Zhao Yan up and down, making him feel uneasy. He turned to the nun behind him and asked, "Is this the kid you mentioned?" Then, without waiting for an answer, he pointed right at Zhao Yan. The nun seemed scared of the old man and quickly nodded.
Without another word, the old man reached into his sleeve and pulled out a burlap pouch, handing it to the nun. The sound of coins clinking inside told Zhao Yan that it was filled to the brim. It seemed the nun had sold herself out. Zhao Yan was taken aback—how could she be so bold? He had barely been here half a day, and already she was making deals with others. If Da Shi found out, he would be shocked beyond words.
The old man handed over the pouch of coins without a second thought, appearing disgusted with the nun's actions. He approached Zhao Yan, saying, "Come with me," as he grabbed his arm. The other children stood frozen, their eyes filled with envy. But Zhao Yan felt different—he felt like a piece of merchandise being bartered over.
The old man led him away from the nun's place and onto a cart that looked like it belonged to the national army. The armor was uniform and looked far superior to that of any adventurer. As the cart began to move, the old man pulled out a glass orb from his robe and handed it to Zhao Yan. "Child, place your hand on this and close your eyes. Just imagine," he instructed.
Curious, Zhao Yan took the orb. It looked like glass, but on closer inspection, he noticed a network of cracks running through it that couldn't be felt from the surface. The orb was warm to the touch. Unsure of what the old man was up to, he suspected this might be some kind of test. He wondered if the two bullies had told the nun about his unique ability, giving her a chance to profit. "What should I think about?" Zhao Yan asked.
"Anything you want. Just close your eyes and feel," the old man replied.
Holding the orb, Zhao Yan thought to himself that maybe this was his lucky break. If he impressed the old man, could it lead him to a better life? With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes. After a while, he felt nothing unusual and sneaked a peek, finding the orb still as intact as when he first received it—no changes at all.
Seeing this, the old man looked taken aback. He snatched the orb back with one hand, his expression turning serious as he stared at Zhao Yan. Suddenly, he pulled out a dagger with the other hand and swiftly grabbed Zhao Yan's arm. Startled, Zhao Yan thought the old man was angry. Had he just spent money on a worthless kid, especially one weaker than most? It seemed like the old man was about to take out his frustration on him.
"No! Please don't hurt me! I'm scared of pain!" Zhao Yan exclaimed, instinctively pulling away.
"Shut up! I'm not going to kill you," the old man snapped, before lightly slicing the dagger across Zhao Yan's arm. He then scrutinized the wound closely. Zhao Yan glanced at his arm. Although the blade had cut into his flesh, it didn't bleed at all. Maybe it hadn't gone deep enough, but no blood was flowing, which was odd. To his surprise, the wound began healing before his eyes, and within seconds, there wasn't even a mark left.
The old man's jaw dropped, his eyes wide in disbelief. He quickly released Zhao Yan, regaining his composure and muttering, "Sorry, I might have pressed too hard."
Zhao Yan looked at his arm, which was now bending at an odd angle. A sharp pain shot through him, and he gritted his teeth, using his other hand to straighten it out. Gradually, the pain faded, and he was back to normal.
Before long, the cart arrived at the tallest building in town. Standing before it, Zhao Yan could see the entire town below, including the city gate and the adventurer's guild. He even spotted the nun's house. All the buildings were concentrated near the center of the town, while the farther out you went, the more rundown the houses became, with nature reclaiming the land. In one corner near the city wall was a cluster of dilapidated structures, which looked like ruins, but there were still signs of life among the wreckage.
Just then, the old man patted Zhao Yan on the shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. Together, they entered the impressive estate.
As they approached the house, Zhao Yan was taken aback by its grandeur. The path was wide, flanked by lush green grass, with guards standing at attention, clad in shiny silver armor adorned with ancient patterns. Each soldier held a spear that was over three meters long, and they looked imposing.
The deeper they walked into the estate, the more amazed Zhao Yan became. What he thought was just a mansion turned out to be a bustling street lined with vendors selling far more exquisite goods than he had seen when he entered the town. The food looked fresh and delicious, and the houses were extravagant, each with its own courtyard where children, men, and women played with unfamiliar little creatures. The contrast with the outside world was stark—it was like night and day.
The old man noticed Zhao Yan's astonishment and said, "Welcome to the wealthy district. It's quite different from the slums, isn't it? Don't be too shocked; from today on, you'll be living here with me." He pointed to a tall structure that stood out among the other smaller buildings.
Unlike the three-story houses with gardens around them, this building was a tower, towering at least thirty to forty meters high, giving anyone inside a view over the entire rich district. Curious, Zhao Yan asked, "Who are you? Why do you live here, especially in such a unique building?"
The old man chuckled proudly. "I'm the royal court mage. In this town, apart from the lord, my word is law." He stroked his beard with a satisfied grin, practically glowing with pride.
Zhao Yan raised an eyebrow. "What exactly does a royal court mage do?"
The old man's eyes widened, and he exclaimed, "You little brat! You've never heard of a royal court mage? Haven't your parents ever explained the hierarchy of the national army?" He began to educate Zhao Yan.
It turned out the old man was quite the figure. The royal court mage ranked just below the lord. The hierarchy was clear: at the top was the king, followed by the lord, then the knight commanders and high mages. Below them were the knights, mages, and finally the guards. The most potent forces were always close to the king, while other lords had to distribute formidable combat power across their territories to maintain order.
After his lengthy explanation, the old man seemed satisfied with himself, while Zhao Yan just thought he was an old windbag. Still, for the sake of self-preservation, Zhao Yan decided to flatter him a bit. After all, he was weak, and if the old man wanted, it would be easy for him to dispose of Zhao Yan, like squishing an ant. "Oh, I see. I didn't realize I was in the presence of someone so important," Zhao Yan said.
The old man puffed up with pride. "Well, it's not like that," he replied.
He led Zhao Yan to his residence, opening the door to reveal a room that matched Zhao Yan's imagination—a tower with a winding staircase leading up. After stepping inside, the old man removed his dark cloak and hung it on a nearby rod. He then pulled out a set of clothes from his robe and tossed them to Zhao Yan. "Put these on. The clothes you're wearing will hurt my reputation here," he said, fixing his gaze on Zhao Yan.
Zhao Yan examined the old man closely. Surprisingly, even at his age, he was fit, which seemed to be common in this world. But where did the old man pull those clothes from? Zhao Yan didn't see a backpack or anything on him. It was as if he had magical storage, like some kind of fantasy character. Though he thought this, Zhao Yan quickly changed into the new clothes under the old man's intense gaze, wondering if he might be a bit creepy.
The old man grinned at Zhao Yan, and his smile sent a shiver down Zhao Yan's spine. It was too sinister, like he was eyeing a fun new toy. Zhao Yan quickly asked, "What do you want with me now that you've bought me?"
The old man paused for a moment, then replied, "Not bad, kid. You've got a sharp mind. You understand that I bought you for a reason. You're aware of your special abilities, so let me lay out my two main objectives for you.
First, I want to study why your body heals itself automatically after taking damage. Your recovery speed is faster than healing magic or potions. If I can figure this out, it could significantly enhance the country's strength—perhaps even allow us to conquer the entire continent.
Second, I want to take you on as my apprentice. I may not be as powerful as some of the other great mages, but when it comes to supportive magic, I dare say I'm second to none on this continent. So, you being my student would be a great fortune for you. Once you learn some of my techniques, you could secure a decent position in the national army. At least you wouldn't have to struggle every day just to survive like those down below. Doesn't that sound good?"