Morning Outside Leon's Manor
'Today you are to depart.' Leon suddenly tossed the scroll.
Vetril rubbed the frosty pattern on the edge of the scroll as three years of deliberately repressed memories suddenly tore through the seal. He saw the luminescence of Elena dissipating beneath the demon's claws, heard the mournful cry of Gareth's broken blade as it plunged into the tundra, and those images tore at the nerves with more ferocity than the sharp teeth of any wraith.
'After all these years, I never found a way to coalesce the core of the source.' The hilt of his sword branded a deep red mark in his palm, and Vetril's voice was as hoarse as rusty chains. For three years he had severed seven hundred and thirty-one training stakes, only to be awakened by the same nightmare every night of the full moon - whenever Mana was about to converge on her heart, there was always an invisible black mist that engulfed it.
Leon patted Vetril's shoulder and said, 'I've never been able to get a clue about your problem either, but perhaps there will be quite a few records about it in the Academy. Remember to be careful with everything after you go out, and don't be blinded by hatred.'
'One day I will kill the demon myself and avenge my parents and little ones.' Vetril said.
'I'm sure you can do it, but I hope you can act on the premise of securing your own life, after all, your parents wouldn't want you to lose your life for revenge.' Leon said.
'I understand.' Vetril nodded.
'For this departure, I have prepared a good horse for you, it was your father's horse when he was young, it has been kept with me since the time he was expelled from Quicksilver City, and I am returning it to you today!' Leon said, then led Vetril to the stables and pointed to one of the white stallions.
Vetril looked at the horse and went up to touch it, the horse perhaps because it saw its former owner in Vetril, so it said that it looked well-behaved, Vetril said, 'Good, what's its name?'
'Shooting Star! That's its name.' Leon said.
'Good name.' Vetril said, then said hello to Leon, packed up his parcel and set off on his horse.
On the way Vetril passed through the central square, which was already crowded with carriages and horses of all colours in the central square of Quicksilver. Vetril stood under the oak tree at the edge of the square, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the hilt of his sword, the faded lapis lazuli on the spike trembling in the wind. Once drenched in blood, this amulet, sewn by his mother on her deathbed, was now the only old thing he dared to carry with him, having been repeatedly mended with secret silver wire.
'An orphan of the Dawnsingers?'
A sharp snort pierced the morning mist. Two teenagers dressed in silver-silk embroidered hunting attire approached, the iris crest, a symbol of ancient nobility, pinned to their lapels. The red-haired boy on the left held his chin high, the jewelled scabbard of the sword at his waist piercing his eyes in the sunlight, while the brown-haired boy on the right toyed with a gold-encrusted dagger, the heel of his boot making a toothsome scuffing sound as it crunched over the stone floor.
Alger Claude
Level: 14
Age: 16
Realm: Junior Knight
Comments: Second son of the treasurer of Quicksilver City, keen to pile up superiority with gold coins, poisonous tongue skill point full.
Lucas Silverthorn
Level: 13
Age: 15
Realm: Junior Knight
Comments: heir to a thuggish merchant group, an example of using meanness as humour.
'I heard that your family killed half of Quicksilver City back in the day?' Alger purposely raised his voice, drawing sidelong glances from the surrounding crowd, 'And with your strength as a trainee knight, how dare you waltz to Grant Academy? Aren't you afraid of being bitten to death by the magical beasts on the road!'
Lucas twirled his dagger in a co-operative manner, the cold light travelling around the side of Vetril's neck, 'If you ask me, you should be chained to the gates of the city and displayed for public display ...' Before the words left his mouth, the dagger suddenly flew out of his hand- Vetril struck him precisely in the wrist bone with the copper clasp at the end of the blade's spike.
'Save your strength for the Wraith.' Vetril turned towards the rendezvous point, the hem of his black robe swept over the stone floor and swept up a few dead leaves. He could feel two resentful glances behind him, like the stragglers who had thrown stones at him when he first arrived in Quicksilver, but luckily he had Leon's shelter before anything serious happened.
Suddenly a voice like a clear spring swept through the taut air, 'Do you need hemostatic herbs? Your knuckles are oozing blood.'
The light blonde-haired maiden walked from the morning light, her vine-like hairpiece entwined with braids braided into a flower crown, her emerald pupils reflecting Vetril's stiff back. As she lifted the pillbox adorned with star-shaped crystals, Vetril caught the scent of white sandalwood and cedar.
Eleanor Moon Song
Level: 12
Age: 16
Realm: Trainee Mage
Comments: descended from the priests of the Morning Forest, a wizard who can practice healing magic as attack magic.
'I mean it.' Seeing Vetril's silence, she pulled out a tube of glowing green ointment, 'A new variety concocted last night, three times as effective at relieving pain as normal ointments, with a side effect of paralysing the tongue for a couple of days at the most - would you like some?'
'No need.' Vetril subconsciously took half a step back, only to run into a fourth figure.
The snow leopard-skin cloak brushed his shoulders, and the dark-haired boy leaned against the wagon with his arms wrapped around him, narrow grey eyes under a dark silver visor raking over the crowd. As he pressed his sword, the ice-crystal vines wrapped around the scabbard made a tiny crunching sound, the crest of the Frostwolf Clan of Quicksilver.
Kane Winter
Level: 16
Age: 17
Realm: Junior Knight
Comments: a rebel from a centuries-old family of swordsmanship, preferring to fight with a lance.
'To depart.' Kane's gaze swept over Alger's red and swollen wrists, the corner of his mouth curled up in a sneer if there was one, 'If you want to be used as an appetiser by the magical beasts, feel free to continue wasting your time.'
When the four carriages were driven out of the city gates surrounded by heavily armoured guards, the sunrise was piercing through the clouds, Vetril was riding on his horse, when Eleanor saw Vetril, she hurriedly greeted him and asked him to come over and walk with her, Vetril expressed his puzzlement, and thought to himself, 'Why is this girl so naturally familiar with me, but he couldn't help it that Eleanor was there and kept asking Vetril to go over there. So Vetril could only go over to see the situation.
Elinor in the car poked her head out and said to Vetril, 'Don't pay attention to those two idiots, I've read the trial dossier from back then-' her fingertips lit up with a shimmering light, tracing out a blurred family crest in the air, 'the one who carries the guilt It was never you.'
'I understand, I've never cared what people think of me.' Vetril replied.
'That's good then! Why don't you travel with me? It's just too boring on this road and I don't really want to go with those three.' Eleanor said and Vetril nodded, after all there were some things he didn't understand.
'Alright then, let's talk about Grant Academy first!' With that Eleanor spoke in a cheerful tone about where the academy came from:
According to legend, hundreds of years ago, a great sage named Grant sensed the primal and pure energy between heaven and earth during a deep meditation. He visited famous mountains and rivers, and after countless difficulties and dangers, he finally found a huge stone shaped like the eye of heaven on top of a cliff, a holy place where Mana is abundant. Legend has it that this boulder is a sacred object left behind by the God of Heaven, containing infinite mysterious power.
Grand Sage Grant made a grand wish here, 'I would like to use this place as a foundation to build an academy to pass on the ways of heaven and earth and gather the heroes of the world.' After years of training and planning, he gathered the best scholars, knights, and mages at that time, and together they built the Grant Academy here. The stone gate of the academy was carved with intricate runes. Since then, Grant Academy has become a legendary shrine on the continent with its rigorous academic attitude and excellent practical training.
The most talked about thing in the academy was the deeds of the two legendary forefathers - a level 53 senior knight, 'Blood Blade Knight', and a level 51 arcane mage, 'Wisdom Light'. A level 53 Senior Knight, 'Blood Blade Knight', and a level 51 Mage, 'Light of Wisdom'.
The 'Bloodshed Knight' had once led an elite force of less than 300 men to face a million-strong army in a gruesome border battle. On that day, the night was low, the enemy army came like a tidal wave, and the situation looked desperate. At this critical moment, he stepped forward, the huge sword in his hand shining with blood under the moonlight. On the battlefield, every stroke of his sword took away the lives of countless enemy generals, and in the end, under his leadership, the enemy army even collapsed out of fear. Afterwards, people praised his bravery and tenacity and called him 'Knight of the Bloody Blade', and his name became a permanent benchmark and incentive in the hearts of the Academy's warriors.
In sharp contrast to the bravery of the Knight of the Bloodsword, the Light of Wisdom was an exceptionally gifted mage who combined the rigorous logic of mathematics with magical energy to create a unique set of 'Auric Magic'. In a decisive battle, facing a huge and ferocious enemy army, he used subtle calculations to design a defence formation. The formation acted as an impenetrable magic wall, trapping the enemy army in confusion and eventually forcing them to retreat. After the battle, his wisdom and power were praised by the world, and his unique magical theories became the holy text for the later generations of mages in the academy. Countless later generations followed the example of the 'Light of Wisdom' and aspired to use wisdom and magic to change their destiny.
When Vetril heard this, he thought to himself, 'Maybe this academy can really help me solve the problem of not being able to condense the core of the source.'
Thinking about this, he suddenly swept over patches of scorched black land, the traces of the demon's rampage three years ago.Vetril gripped the spike of his sword tightly when he saw it, until Eleanor suddenly approached and whispered, 'Are you alright?'
Vetril slowed down and shook his head, saying, 'It's fine.'
Just then, the carriage shook violently! The two-horned horse pulling the carriage let out a terrified neigh, and a dozen Shadow Wolves scurried out from the rocky caves along the roadside. These primary magical beasts should have feared the glowstone carriage, but at this moment, they tore at the horses with red eyes, saliva pulling out sticky threads between their fangs.
'Stay in the car!' Escort Leader Raymond drew his battle axe, and the roar of this 18th level Junior Knight shook off the rocky debris. But when the seventh Shadow Wolf lunged at the carriage from a tricky angle, Vetril leapt into the fray as well.
With three years of life-and-death training turned into muscle memory, Vetril spun around to avoid the lunge, and at the same time, the tip of his sword accurately pierced into the gap between the wolf's right eye and its snout bone - a fatal angle taught to him by Instructor Leon with thirty broken bones. The moment the fishy blood splattered, he used his strength to step on the wolf carcass and sever the spine of another shadow wolf in the air.
With Vetril joining in like this, the incoming Shadow Wolves were soon killed off, and the guards guarding the compartment began to look squarely at Vetril for the first time.
Night fell quietly, soft starlight poured down on the earth, and the caravan settled down on the shore of Starlight Lake. The surface of the lake was like a huge silver mirror, reflecting the stars in the night sky and the faint moonlight, the lake water rippled in the breeze, as if all the noise between heaven and earth had been swallowed up by this tranquillity.
The bonfire was lit, and the warm orange glow pulsed in the night, reflecting on everyone's tired but alert faces. The guards sat around the fire, talking in low voices about the day's raid, with a few occasional gruff laughs trying to dispel the lingering tension of the day. The two-horned horse pulling the cart was drinking at the lake, still with a slight shiver of shock.
Eleanor sat a little further away, humming a soft elven ditty with a melodious and mysterious melody that seemed to be weaving a knot of tranquillity around this lake. Her slender fingers deftly turned over the herbs and threw them one by one into the steaming pot, the faint scent of the herbs mixed with the freshness of the grass and trees filled the night breeze.
Vetril, on the other hand, sat alone by the bonfire not far away, holding his longsword tightly in his hand and concentrating on polishing the blade. The firelight reflected on his cold face, casting deep shadows. His eyes were sometimes empty, sometimes sharp, as if he saw the ghosts of the past in the reflection of the blade - the village destroyed by the demons, the dying cries of his loved ones, and his unfinished path of revenge.
As he contemplated this, a slight crack of a dead branch sounded in the night, almost imperceptible, but enough to make the habitually alert man's heart skip a beat, and with a slight sidelong glance, Vetril slid his fingers over the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it in response to the sudden danger. However, before he could make a move, the familiar sound of footsteps had quietly approached.
Eleanor carried a steaming cup of medicinal tea and quietly walked to his side, the soft moonlight reflecting on her light blonde hair as if it had gilded her with a mysterious halo. She sat down carefully and slipped the cup of tea into Vetril's hand, breaking the silence of the night.
'You're amazing! None of the apprentice knights I've met have been as strong as you!' She smiled, her voice crisp and warm, like a fresh spring flowing into Vetril's slightly cold heart.
Vetril looked down at the teacup in his hand, in which a few finely chopped herbs floated, the pale green liquid glowing softly in the light of the campfire. He did not respond immediately, but only gazed at the moon's reflection on the surface of the lake, his eyes deep, as if he was looking through the lake to a more distant place.
The night breeze gently brushed past, wrapped in the faint fragrance of medicinal herbs, and swept across the lake surface, bringing up a subtle ripple. The moon's shadow in the lake also trembled slightly along with the ripples, as if responding to the unsettled waves in Vetril's heart.
'You're always alone, don't you feel lonely?' Eleanor's voice resounded again, her eyes looking exceptionally bright in the firelight with a hint of curiosity and concern.
Vetril was silent for a moment, taking a slight sip of his medicinal tea, the warm liquid sliding down his throat with a faint bitterness and a hint of sweetness back. He whispered, 'Loneliness is nothing compared to regret.' His voice was hoarse but firm, as if every word was heavy on Elinor's heart.
Eleanor sniffed and froze slightly, then sighed softly. She didn't say anything more, but just quietly sat beside him and looked at the sparkling lake with him.
A moment later, she suddenly smiled, gently patted his shoulder, and stood up with a smile, 'Rest well, we have to continue our journey tomorrow.' After saying that, she turned around and walked towards her own tent, leaving Vetril sitting alone by the campfire.
The night breeze was still gentle, Starlight Lake was flowing quietly, and only Vetril was still sitting by the campfire looking out across the lake.