【Da Yin】5

page views:1 Publication date:2023-03-24

Chapter 1 ◆
Time Flies in Farming, and the end of the month is fast approaching.
Winter is drawing to a close; although it's not yet spring, the rivers have thawed, the seedlings have sprouted, and green can be seen everywhere in Kaoni.
A dozen or so farmers are working in the fields, driving horses and wielding heavy plows, tilling the newly thawed earth.
Kaoni doesn't have much farmland. In the past, because they had no tools, they relied entirely on hoes, requiring many people to work together. Now, with horses and various farm implements, a dozen or so people are enough to manage the fields.
Those working in the fields are all convicts, because farm work requires leaving early and returning late, and is extremely arduous, but the pay is meager.
Twenty percent of the crops produced in the fields must be used to pay taxes. This wasn't decided by Luke and his men. Kaoni was a trusteeship, and the land still belonged to Duke Frederick; this tax was paid to the Duke. The annuity that Luke and his men needed to pay was a separate matter.
Of the remaining harvest, sixty percent had to be given to the original inhabitants of Kaoni, as the land belonged to everyone, and this portion was equivalent to rent.
In this way, the farmers could receive at most a little over thirty percent of the harvest, and the ratio of planting to harvest was generally one to four, meaning that seeds accounted for twenty-five percent.
Even if this year's harvest was bountiful, these convicts, after a year of hard work, would only receive a little over half a percent in the end.
Because of their careful budgeting, no one else wanted to farm. Even women who did sewing and mending could earn two copper coins a day, while men earned even more. Even the strongest men could earn three copper coins, which would amount to about one silver coin a month. Those with some skills were even better off, earning five or six silver coins a month.
Meanwhile, in Kaoni, there were plenty of jobs that required a lot of manpower.
First, there's the construction of the church. As the weather warms up, mortar can be poured. Stone slabs need to be laid on the interior and exterior walls to cover the honeycomb structure's wooden base. A mixture of gravel and mortar will also be filled into the honeycomb structure so that even if the wood rots away, the church won't collapse.
This work doesn't require much physical exertion, but it demands a large workforce. And after that, the subsequent interior and exterior decorations will also require a significant amount of manpower.
Another track needs to be laid on the road to Admont so that different vehicles can use separate tracks. This is much easier than before, and there's no need to rush, but it still requires a considerable number of people.
According to the original plan, cotton was to be planted on all the hills surrounding Kaoni, requiring a large workforce. As for logging, there was no need to mention the need for more people; there simply wouldn't be enough.
In addition, shipyards that had been built were already under construction, but the people needed there had to have some skills, making it difficult to find enough workers.
Because people were needed everywhere, the residents of Kaoni were very busy, and Luke and his group were also extremely busy.
Metro had been traveling and had just returned, as the end of the month was approaching in a couple of days.
They would meet at the end of each month to discuss the progress of the month and to finalize the arrangements for the following month.
The others were also busy, but at least they didn't have to travel as far. East only needed to stay near the church, Luke had to travel around, and Palm was still responsible for logging and training soldiers, going into the mountains every day. The one who went the furthest was Nice; a week ago, Palm's men discovered traces of rats again, so he went back to his old ways.
Looking at the scattered rat carcasses on the ground, Nice seemed lost in thought.
He had killed about two or three thousand rats, all just awakened from hibernation, each one skin and bones, appearing very weak.
The number of rats was incomparable to before, but what bothered him was that every single rat had those strange blood clots.
Clearly, those that had awakened early were all descendants of that rat king.
The one most delighted was naturally the little guy, who was currently enjoying a rare feast. In the past few days, his fur appeared even shinier than before.
He had previously considered stopping the killing of rats once their numbers decreased to a certain point, instead trying to raise them to reproduce.
Ordinary rats weren't worth keeping; only these rats with special blood clots were useful.
He had initially worried about how to increase the proportion of these rats, but unexpectedly, nature itself provided such an opportunity.
Thinking of this, Nice snapped his fingers at the little guy in the distance.
The little guy, who was putting a blood clot into his mouth, reluctantly ran over when he heard his owner calling him.
"You've eaten so many blood clots, shouldn't you have some of the aura of a 'king' by now? If I asked you to subdue these rats, could you do it?"
Nice grabbed the little guy's hand and asked.
He wasn't worried that the little guy wouldn't understand; the little guy's intelligence was equivalent to that of a five-year-old child, and he already understood many things.
Sure enough, the little guy's eyes darted around, and after a moment, he nodded his little head.
"Then we won't kill them. For the rats that gather again, you can find a way to subdue them and make them obey you,"
Nice said, revealing his idea.
He knew that the initial requirement to exterminate the rats was mainly to hone his skills with concealed weapons, but now that was no longer necessary. He had reached a bottleneck, and if he wanted to achieve quick results, he needed to challenge himself with more difficult targets.
The little creature nodded, then shook its head, squeaking and making strange movements, as if it were gnawing on something.
"You mean, if you become their 'king,' you can no longer eat those blood clots?"
Nice guessed.
Soul-type beings killing each other wasn't unusual; conflict existed between any race, and humans often waged war themselves. But using soul-type beings as food was unacceptable. Even rats rarely did such a thing, only doing so when food was scarce and survival was difficult.
Sure enough, the little creature nodded, and Nice began to ponder.
"If it died from some accident, could you eat it?"
Nice asked.
The little creature tilted its head, thinking for a long time before finally nodding.
Nice clapped his hands. He had a plan, and not only that, he planned to use this opportunity to get these rats to contribute something.
Just then, he suddenly saw the little creature shake its head again, then make an eating gesture once more, but this time its movements were more elaborate, its body constantly shifting back and forth.
"You mean we have to hide and eat secretly?"
Nice asked.
The little creature shook its head repeatedly.
"Don't you like to eat if it's not fresh?"
Nice continued to guess.
The little creature still shook its head.
"Are you worried that the spirits will steal the food?"
Nice thought he had guessed correctly this time; the little creature's shifting body clearly indicated that more than one was constantly eating.
Unfortunately, the little creature still shook its head.
After guessing five or six more times, Nice still couldn't guess correctly, and was getting further and further away from the correct answer. The little guy was clearly getting impatient.
Suddenly, it leaped from Nice's palm to a newly sprouted blade of grass, snapped it in two, and pointed to its mouth.
A question mark popped into Nice's head. This creature was picky and never ate grass. Suddenly, a thought flashed through his mind, and he seemed to understand.
"You mean, the 'King' must provide food for his subjects?"
The little creature nodded rapidly, but Nice couldn't speak.
Even these rats knew that power must be accompanied by duty. Compared to this, the behavior of Duke Frederick was truly speechless, worse than an animal.
He had originally planned to let the rats feed themselves, but now he was having a headache. To be honest, Kaonni's food supply wasn't even enough for people, let alone so many rats.
Seeing its owner's worried expression, the little creature knew nothing would happen for the time being, and darted back to its old spot to dig up blood clots from the dead rats scattered on the ground and eat them.
Nice had some experience raising animals; his family used to keep several dogs and over a dozen horses, and their farm had herds of cattle, sheep, pigs, rabbits, geese, ducks, and chickens.
Like all children of noble families, although he didn't have to work, he had to know how to manage his family's property, so he knew how to raise these livestock and what they ate.
Horses were the most difficult to raise and required the most expensive feed, often needing high-quality feed, while sheep and pigs were the easiest to raise. Sheep, though herbivores, eat everything from tree roots to withered grass. Pigs are omnivorous, and can be fed scraps or other odds and ends.
Rats are also omnivores, and like sheep, they eat tree roots and withered grass. Raising rats is arguably easier than raising pigs or sheep, but the problem is their sheer number.
To feed so many rats, one must find fast-growing food, such as weeds and maggots, ideally something like chives—cut a clump, and another will immediately grow back.
Thinking about this, Nice began to have a better idea. He snapped his fingers, summoning the little creature.
"If I can provide food, but it doesn't taste very good, will those rats obey your orders and not forage for themselves?"
He asked this because he had experience. The sheep on the farm, though they ate everything, would wreak havoc on crops and vegetables if let out to roam freely, only eating the best parts.
The little creature shook its head, put a blood clot in its mouth, and then made a face. Nice immediately understood; the answer was no. Rats were smarter than sheep. Sheep knew to choose the good food, so rats couldn't possibly be unaware.
Nice's brow furrowed even more. After what seemed like an eternity, he felt thirsty and pulled a silver flat-bottomed flask from his inner pocket—one of the few heirlooms from his father.
Suddenly, he remembered a nearly forgotten memory.
Every autumn, his family would buy a large quantity of grape pulp. This pulp wasn't pure grape juice; it contained pulp and skins. The wine's vibrant red color comes from the dissolving of the skins' color during fermentation.
Therefore, after each winemaking process, a lot of lees would be left over. This lees could be used as animal feed, and it was the best feed at that.
Grape harvesting usually occurs in September, and winemaking takes a month, so the lees were always collected in mid-October or at the end of the month.
His father would mix these lees with chopped hay, water hyacinths, and other similar materials, and put them in old, unused wooden barrels to ferment together. The entire process took about half a month, and by the time fermentation was complete, it was already winter.
These fermented feeds are easy to preserve; they can simply be left out to freeze. The livestock love to eat them, and some are even addicted because of the alcoholic smell. Just like people, there are alcoholics among the animals.
Emerging from the mountains, the sun was still high overhead.
Nice didn't have the dead rats burned. They had just woken from hibernation and couldn't possibly carry any diseases. Besides, their small numbers meant there was no risk of a plague. In fact, their decay would provide nutrients to the earth, a small contribution they made to the land.
He left the little creature in the mountains to gather the mice that were waking up from hibernation. The sooner this was done, the better. In a couple of days, as the weather warmed up, a large number of mice would gradually awaken, and the number of ordinary mice would definitely increase, which was not what he wanted.
As soon as he entered the farm, Nice saw Luke and the others in the yard, comfortably lounging in rocking chairs.
Those rocking chairs were specially made of willow to entertain His Highness. The designer was Easter, who had put a lot of thought into making them very exquisite and light. Their shape resembled two overlapping flower petals, with beautiful curves. When a person sat in them, they would sink completely into them, which was indeed comfortable and pleasant.
Nice quite liked the design. When the prince was alive, they had to sit on ordinary chairs to maintain a proper hierarchy. After the prince left, they finally had a chance to enjoy themselves.
Seeing Nice approach, the servants who had been attending to him immediately brought over a rocking chair. It was so light even a child could lift it.
In the center was a flat tea table with several plates of delicate pastries and a large silver water jug.
Nice sat down in the chair, leaning back leisurely, mimicking Luke and the others' posture of half-sitting, half-reclining. The tea table was positioned sideways to him, allowing him to easily reach the items on it.
In fact, he didn't need to lift a finger; a group of people were already standing around serving him. This pomp and circumstance was originally intended for the prince, but now it was their turn to enjoy it.
He had barely sat down when Lilith immediately brought over a clean cup. She took the water jug from the tea table, poured some milky-white liquid into the cup, and then very respectfully handed it to Nice.
The other servants standing nearby all looked at Lilith with envy, but unfortunately, they were only meant to stand by; they wouldn't have the chance to serve the masters.
By now, all the residents of Kaoni knew that the masters had connections everywhere and knew many important people. The things the mixed-race attendants had said before weren't exaggerations at all; in fact, they revealed a lot.
Nice took the cup from Lilith and took a sip.
The contents of the glass resembled milk, but were sweet and sour with a hint of alcohol. It was a drink called Tanino, made from milk, cream, and wine.
Luke had come up with the idea; their knowledge was limited, and they were utterly unworthy of the fine wine served to His Highness the Prince. This was their way of making up for it. Prince Philip had never tasted anything like it before, so he found it novel, and its strong flavor made it barely presentable.
Metro clapped his hands, and his henchman, Bolb, immediately ran over.
"Bring the stuff,"
Metro ordered. Bolb took off running; while he wasn't good for much else, he was very obedient. Soon, he returned carrying a stack of paper scraps.
"I've got everything you asked me to get. Here's a sample. What do you think?"
Metro had Bolb bring the stack of papers to Nice. Now, like East, he was utterly impressed by Nice.
This wasn't just because Nice could come up with brilliant ideas, nor was it just because Nice was good at making money; what truly impressed them was Nice's strength.
In the previous war, he, East, and Luke spent most of their time chatting. Except for the last battle where the three of them achieved some gains, the previous battles were mostly a showcase for Palm and Nice. Of those achievements, Nice deserved at least 40%, while Palm only deserved 30%. If Elena's achievements were also attributed to Nice, it would be even more disheartening for them.
Just thinking about how Nice knew nothing just a year ago made them feel utterly ashamed.
"It's heartbreaking to think that so much money is going to go up in flames,"
Easter lamented beside them. He had already examined the paper; it was all top-quality. The paper was fine and smooth, with a surface like polished marble, its color as white as cream, and it even emitted a unique fragrance.
Let alone such high-quality paper, even ordinary paper wasn't cheap. No country could manufacture it; it could only be bought from the Saracens, or they would have to use parchment, which was even more expensive.
Nice gently stroked the stack of paper. To be honest, he also felt it was a pity, but in order to deal with Viscount Bellandos, they had to pay a price.
"How's it going on your end?"
he turned to ask Easter.
East's work involved sculpting the Bible onto wax plates, creating plaster molds, and then casting tin plates using molten tin.
This was a common method of engraving.
Sculpting on wax was easier, much easier than carving wood, and mistakes could be corrected with a few drops of wax.
Creating plaster molds was also straightforward, and plaster, being quite fine, could perfectly reproduce the details of the wax sculpt. Its soft texture also allowed for direct corrections.
Finally, the tin plates were cast. The process was also convenient; tin has a low melting point of just over 200 degrees Celsius, which the plaster mold could withstand, and its soft texture made it easy to mold.
"I've brought in everyone from both of the Nang Dao Academy. They're carving the wax tablets for me, but this job won't be finished in less than two months,"
East complained again.
However, his complaint this time was understandable. The Bible wasn't a small book; if one person copied it, who knows how long it would take. Even with a group of people, it was still a huge undertaking, let alone carving on wax tablets, which was much more difficult than copying.
"To deal with Bellandos, I've spent so much money, I wonder if it was worth it?"
Metro muttered to himself. He wasn't questioning Nice; it was just his nature.
Hearing this, Luke quickly smoothed things over, "It's okay. As long as the tinplate is made, we can print as many Bibles as we want. A Bible isn't cheap, and there will always be people who buy them. We'll make back this loss sooner or later."
Nice didn't take Esther's complaints to heart. He knew the guy's personality. He didn't care that it would take two months to complete this task. Right now, he didn't want to go back to the forest in Balia. He could only hide there and couldn't do anything. At this moment, he had a lot of things to do and his plans were already full.
With two months, Sea Dog Sikos could definitely finish building the first batch of ships. Thinking of this, Nice quickly said, "Our fleet, apart from the two large ships that we bought ourselves, all six of the smaller ships are rented. Return the ships and use our own."
Metro was even more decisive than Nice: "I think we can even sell those two large ships. We only sell high-profit goods, so we don't need these bulky and large ships. We're too slow."
Metro was in charge of all business-related matters. Some time ago, he went with the fleet twice and found that even with a large number of bodyguards, the two large ships weren't very safe because they were too slow and because their scale was too large and they carried too much cargo, making them easy targets for pirates.
On the contrary, those small boats had low carrying capacity and high speed. Even without bodyguards, it didn't matter; if they saw pirates, they could simply hoist the sails and run away. The pirates had no interest in racing such small boats.
"Once our first ship is built, we'll do as you two suggest,"
Luke said, quite adept at accepting others' opinions.
As the group was talking, Maxim ran over. He was now the head steward, half a rank higher than the other stewards, and was in charge of Kaoni's daily affairs.
Everyone congratulated him on his promotion, but Maxim himself didn't think so. He would rather have a backup steward take his place.
The position of reserve deacon was created by Luke and his team after recruiting a large number of homeless people. These reserve deacons were all selected from among the homeless.
The homeless had already been screened during recruitment; these people were either skilled workers or young, strong laborers.
The reserve deacons were divided according to their trades. For example, carpenters were the most numerous, so they were divided into six groups, each with one reserve deacon. The number of laborers was also considerable, so they were divided into six groups, each with one reserve deacon. The same applied to female laborers. Other trades with fewer workers, such as gardeners, winemakers, and fruit farmers, were grouped together, and a reserve deacon was also selected from among them.
With Maxim's intelligence, he could easily see that these were the men the old men wanted, and he also understood that this division subtly separated the original villagers from the newcomers, the vagrants.
His biggest worry now was that the old men had established themselves and were beginning to distance themselves from them. So, as soon as he reached Luke, he quickly removed his hat, bowed respectfully, and said, "Sir, you asked me to gather all the children aged twelve to fifteen, and I have done so."
Luke looked at the others with suspicion; he hadn't given that order.
"I had them gathered," Niss explained to Luke, bowing slightly.
He did this because his conversation with the prince had given him some new ideas. He planned to try it out in Canio first, and if it worked, he could do it again later.
"How many people are there in total?" Niss asked Maxim.
"Seventy-five," Maxim quickly replied, now showing more awe for the priest than for the elder.
Niss clicked his tongue, feeling the number was a bit low.
"Go and gather all the children aged ten to eighteen," he decided to broaden the scope.
"What are you planning to do?" Luke quickly interrupted, now extremely curious, and feeling restless if he didn't understand.
The others felt the same way, even Palm was becoming increasingly interested in what Niss was doing.
"I plan to find someone to teach the children to read," Niss said.
Finding such people wasn't difficult; he just needed to return to Admont and invite a few novice pastors. After all, he couldn't manage everything by himself once the church was built.
This church was enormous, even larger than the one in Admont town, unlike a small country chapel. Maintaining such a church would require at least four or five people.
He wasn't worried about being ousted from his position, but this was their trusteeship, and they decided who was qualified to preach here. The fact that he built the church meant no one could take his place. This wasn't an ironclad rule, but a commandment. If anyone dared to violate it, it wasn't the church that would object, but God.
Luke and his three companions couldn't fathom what Nis was up to, but teaching the people here to read was certainly a good thing. When buying and selling slaves, a literate slave cost three or four times more than an ordinary one, demonstrating the immense benefits of literacy.
Maxim, standing to the side, also couldn't fathom the pastor's thoughts, but he knew it was definitely a good thing. He also knew that the literate children would be considered one of their own by the masters, and would be taken along when they left.
At this moment, he too began to ponder the matter.
The pastor had said that the only way to gain their trust was to become a soldier and go to war with them, but the recruitment criteria were fifteen to thirty years old. He only had a twelve-year-old son, so he obviously couldn't count on him. But this time, his son was finally qualified.
"I'll go arrange it right away, I'll go arrange it right away," Maxim said, bowing and scraping.
"You can go now," Nice waved him away, ignoring the man's obsequiousness.
Maxim backed away as he walked out of the manor, then turned and ran towards the earthen fortress. He needed to get this done as soon as possible.
"What exactly are you planning to do?" Ister couldn't help but ask. It wasn't appropriate to ask with Maxim present. As he spoke, he waved his hand, dismissing the servants.
Lilith, mindful of her status, hadn't intended to leave, but under Ister's glare, she had no choice but to leave with the others.
Nice didn't stop them.
Seeing Nice's reaction, Luke, Metro, and Palm sat up straight; they realized the importance of this matter.
"We should consider our next step. Not long ago, I suggested to Prince Philip that he request a territory from his father. This matter won't be resolved immediately, but once it is, it will be an excellent opportunity for us." Nice paused, observing everyone's reactions.
He took a sip of his drink, whetting the others' appetites, before continuing after a long pause: "Your Highness's country has a host of problems, the most serious of which is political chaos. Over the centuries, the entire kingdom has been almost entirely divided up, becoming a collection of small territories. The Prince hopes to change all of this."
"You plan to cultivate officials and transform the country from a feudal system of self-governance to direct royal control?" Ister was the first to understand Nice's meaning.
This wasn't Nice's invention; such reforms began in Nice's ancestral kingdom—the Frankish Kingdom. Three consecutive Frankish monarchs had meaningfully reclaimed royal power bit by bit.
Abolishing feudal autonomy would require a large number of officials. The advantage of using officials is that they only receive salaries and don't need to be granted territories.
"You've taken a pretty big gamble." Even someone as gambler as Ister felt uncertain.
Reclaiming the throne was tantamount to making enemies of all the nobles, and even the Frankish Kingdom, the first to do so, experienced constant conflicts during the process.
"I'm not gambling. These aren't officials, they're deacons." Nice laughed. "His Highness's territory is on the border, outside of which lies the area controlled by heretics. He'll definitely be doing business with them frequently in the future, and Melott simply can't handle it all by himself."
Luke and the others exchanged glances, wondering what Nice was up to. Nice was becoming increasingly enigmatic to them.
"In that case, I'll have to make a trip to the north when I have time." Melott was in charge of gathering intelligence, and his reach had extended to the ports and city-states in the south. He had even taken notice of Balia because of the war.
"Can you manage it all?" Luke shook his head. A person's energy is limited, especially someone like Melott who travels around. It's already good enough if you can focus on one direction. Traveling all over the country is absolutely impossible.
"Now that we've come this far, shouldn't our team expand?" East understood what Luke meant: "There are some people in the Nangdao Academy who are on good terms with us. Why don't we bring them over?"
"We don't necessarily have to limit ourselves to those we're on good terms with," Melott reminded him from the side.
Unlike East, he was the kind of person in the Nangdao Academy who was dependent on others, and there were quite a few people in his situation who were similar to him.
Although those people followed the Unsoul's circle and had some past conflicts with their own, most of them would definitely be willing to come if this side extended a hand of invitation.
Melott understood that people like them had no way out; if they couldn't find a force to join them, they could only become mercenaries or go east to try their luck.
"I also plan to select a few subordinates," Palm Soul seemed to have some ideas.
This time on the battlefield, he was the only one charging ahead; Luke and Melott were both unreliable, which only made him feel immense pressure.
At the Soul Academy, he was considered one of the strongest among the Soul Age members, though not invincible. Several others were roughly his equals; one came from a wealthy family, but he didn't intend to recruit him. The others shared similar backgrounds and ambitions, all striving to improve their strength and make a name for themselves on the battlefield.
Luke and East exchanged glances. They didn't object. Metro and Palm's ideas were good, but not suitable for them. They wanted to recruit those who could become their subordinates, not those of similar Soul Age and background.
"I have some relatives,"
Luke said. His family was relatively harmonious, and he maintained close relationships with several cousins and other relatives in similar circumstances.
It's easy to talk to relatives and friends; it doesn't matter where they're placed.
When the Knights Templar were first formed, they were a group of like-minded people, and with their relatives added in, there was never any power struggle.
Ister seemed somewhat silent this time. His relatives were all clinging to his brother, having long since become his cronies, and had never really paid him any attention. So he was too lazy to bring anyone in; after all, he was in charge of construction and didn't need any help.
"Then, let's bring in some relatives and friends too,"
Melott readily agreed with Luke's suggestion. Although his family had declined, the entire clan was still very prosperous, with a large number of relatives. Since everyone's situation was similar, there was little conflict of interest, so the relationships were relatively close. If he could lend a hand, he was naturally willing to do so.
Palm didn't speak, but he nodded.
No one asked Nice's opinion on this matter, because the word "relative" was absolutely taboo for Nice.
Since the decision to expand the team was made, Luke, Melot, and Palm had all left, leaving only Ister and Nice in Kaoni.
After the three left, the weather turned gloomy and rainy; the incessant drizzle was the prelude to spring, carrying its scent.
Previously, Kaoni could only see glimpses of spring, but with the drizzle, the surrounding cliffs turned lush green, obscuring the color of the soil.
The recovery of this disaster-stricken land was even faster than Nice had initially anticipated.
On the edge of this once-disaster-stricken land lies a winding canyon. Countless rats dart about within it, while numerous birds of prey circle above, their eyes fixed on the ground. But none dare descend, for a silvery light flickers across the mountaintop. Countless birds of prey, flying too low, have been struck by this light, falling into the rat swarm and becoming their prey.
That silvery light, of course, belongs to Nis's pet; the entire canyon of rats is now his servant.
Most of these rats have demonic bloodlines, with blood clots growing inside their bodies that the little thing cares about. They are also much more intelligent than ordinary rats; otherwise, how would they understand that as long as they serve the little thing as their master, they can save their lives? So after being caught here, none of them dared to run away.
The little thing even commanded them to find all the rats that were still hibernating and drag them from underground to the surface.
It was winter, and it had been raining constantly. The nights were bitterly cold, and of the hundred or so hibernating rats, ninety-nine wouldn't survive. Those that survived and awakened under these conditions all possessed demonic bloodlines.
This was a very effective selection method, allowing Soul to hunt rats much more efficiently than Nice could do alone.
In the end, it was the Rat King's descendant who wiped out the rat plague, leaving Lu Ke and the others speechless with astonishment.
A distant rumbling sound echoed, accompanied by a violent tremor of the earth, and dust billowed from the other side of the canyon.
The raft at the other end, hollowed out by rats, could no longer support its own weight and collapsed, the collapsed section stretching over ten meters.
The rats scattered in all directions, and after a while, seeing that the situation in the collapsed area had stabilized, they regrouped and quickly dug away the fallen rocks, pushing them all to both sides of the canyon.
Hun Shi also unearthed a pile of dead rats; there were at least five or six thousand rats buried underneath. They were dragged aside and set aside. A flash of silver light appeared, and a small creature bumped into him. He quickly pulled blood clots from the rafts buried among the dead rats.
These demonized rats, though intelligent, weren't yet capable of discerning right from wrong. In their eyes, the spirits were already dead, not killed by their "King," so utilizing them was perfectly normal.
As for the spirits' deaths due to the mountain collapse, and the digging being ordered by their "King," the relationship was too complex for their bean-sized brains to comprehend. Besides, previous "Kings" had suffered the same fate, ordering them to forcibly attack the mound, resulting in even more spirit deaths.
For these rats, only one thing mattered—obeying orders meant food.
Atop the hill, Niss was directing a group of trembling farmers as they worked.
The sled behind them was piled high with bundles of grass, all cut from the farm.
Perhaps it was the magic of that giant rat that had seeped into the earth, but the plants on the farm were growing abnormally poorly; even if all the grass was cut, it would grow back within a day.
The farmers were currently chopping the grass into small pieces with sickles. Nearby were several large pits, each five meters in diameter and long enough to bury a person.
Most of the pits were covered, but this couldn't stop the slow fermentation, filling the air with a sweet and sour smell.
This smell was unpleasant to them; it was too strong and made their heads throb, but the rats loved it.
Rats are easily addicted to food; once they get used to something, they can't change their tastes. They absolutely refuse to gnaw on grass roots now.
Eating this fermented feed, and with the prestige of this little creature, tens of millions of rats are paving the way for a second passage through the Kaoni canyon. Once the canyon is open, Kaoni can connect to a small town to the south, reducing the journey to Admont by over two hundred kilometers. If
this road were to be built by hand, the current resources of the Kaoni people would be far insufficient; it would require several thousand people and take five or six years to complete.
Not to mention labor costs, feeding several thousand people would require a huge amount of food. Besides that, small items like plates and hoes would also be a significant expense.
These rats are naturally inclined to burrow, and they also need something to gnaw on—it's their nature. All the trees around Kaoni have been gnawed down because of this instinct. So, it's better to let them gnaw on rocks than to let them wreak havoc on the forest.
Looking at the cheap laborers covering the mountains and fields, Nispi couldn't help but laugh.
Back then, when he accused the widow Monica of being a witch, he was the one who secretly raised rats. Now, he was the one raising rats, and doing it openly, yet no one dared to say a word.
He had reported this to the Nangdao Academy before doing so, and there was no objection from above.
The Church has always been like this, strictly controlling everything from alchemy to forbidden arts, but if it's something internal, as long as there's a suitable person to guide them, the higher-ups won't interfere.
Unless someone decides to target him one day, and even Cardinal Emma can't save him, perhaps this matter will be used as a weapon against him.
But if that day truly comes, it doesn't matter whether there's a reason or not; if a superior wants to deal with someone, there are plenty of reasons, and even if there isn't one, they can fabricate one—the Templar Knights' fate is the best proof.
Suddenly, a shadow swept overhead, catching Nice's attention.
It was definitely not one of those raptors lingering above the canyon; this shadow was much larger than an eagle.
Nice looked up and saw a pair of enormous wings, huge yet stiff, showing no sign of flapping. He immediately understood that a mage was definitely hanging beneath those wings. He could even guess that the magician was most likely attracted by the sound and dust of the landslide.
The enormous wings circled and began to descend, finally landing on the ground after a long while. Hanging beneath the wings was a magician in his early twenties, dressed in a long black robe adorned with stars and two magic circles embroidered at the cuffs. He wore no hat, revealing gray-brown hair, and possessed a refined, scholarly air.
As soon as he touched the ground, the magician very carefully folded his wings.
The wings were magical; each fold reduced the landslide to half its original size, until after several folds, it was only the size of a book.
Folding his wings, the magician approached. At first, he didn't seem particularly concerned, but when he was about two meters away from Nice, he seemed to notice something. He looked Nice up and down, and after a long pause, exclaimed in surprise, "You're actually a priest!"
"Is that so strange?"
Nice wasn't surprised. He knew why the magician was astonished; seeing someone commanding such a large group of rats from the air, the magician must have thought he'd encountered a spirit.
Nice made a series of hand seals with his left hand, chanting a spell. After a moment, he pointed to the ground, and a large patch of green shoots immediately sprouted from where he pointed. These shoots grew at a visible speed, quickly becoming lush and verdant.
This was definitely magic, not divine art. Seeing Nice's display, the magician opposite him immediately breathed a sigh of relief.
The Church and magicians were, in principle, irreconcilable enemies. For a thousand years, the Church had desperately tried to eliminate all magicians, inflicting harm on many innocent people in the process.
However, many priests within the Church also practiced magic, especially as alchemy flourished, leading to a surge in such priests, even within the Inquisition. The Church consistently turned a blind eye to this.
Consequently, in the last century, priests and magicians were not so antagonistic. In the Hall of Norbert, Duke Frederick invited both priests and magicians as guests. Each side occupied a corner, ignoring the other, yet they did not engage in a life-or-death struggle.
"Your magic is quite good."
The magician looked at the plant that had grown to over two feet tall and was quite surprised. Although he could do it too, he couldn't have done it so easily.
Of course, he didn't know that the reason why Niss could make plants grow so quickly was very complicated.
Niss possesses a gift from the god of love, who governs procreation and growth. He is also a priest, and God's powers, besides light, include growth and nourishment. Furthermore, one of his guardian angels, Wald, governs time. These three factors combined give him such abilities. If it were other magic, Niss would be far inferior.
"Do you live nearby, or are you traveling around?"
Niss asked, not wanting to dwell on his own strength any longer.
"I am a member of the Abrad Flame Tower, and I'm planning to go to Elna to accept a group of students."
The magician didn't try to hide anything; it wasn't a secret anyway.
The Flame Tower is one of the ten most famous magic towers.
Magic towers are equivalent to magic academies, schools specifically for training magicians, and gathering places for magicians who enjoy research. Unlike the Magic Academy, the Magic Tower doesn't accept just anyone. The number of people who can become magicians is far greater than those who can become priests or knights.
To become a magician, one must first have stronger mental strength than the average person, and the higher the intelligence, the better. Besides that, there are a whole host of other requirements, such as elemental affinity and mental concentration.
A magic tower requires a series of tests to admit a student.
Children who want to become magicians cannot travel thousands of miles to the magic tower for these tests. Firstly, the journey is too long, and secondly, many magic towers are located in remote, inaccessible areas, making travel extremely dangerous.
Therefore, each year, various magic towers send representatives to major cities to conduct entrance tests. Those who pass the tests are qualified to join the magic tower.
Because Nice was an only child, he would have undoubtedly inherited everything from his father, including his title and estate, so he hadn't taken the test, a fact he had regretted.
"I see that you can control such a large number of rats; your strength must be considerable,"
the magician said, then looked Nice more closely. He felt the other was far too young.
However, he dared not harbor any contempt. There were many strange and unusual people among magicians, and many with strange abilities. There were countless ways to change one's appearance. The person before him looked only fourteen or fifteen years old, but who could be sure that beneath that youthful appearance might lie an elderly man?
"These are just ordinary rats."
Nice didn't mention the small creature; the magician was wary of him, and so was he.
Few things could catch a magician's eye, but once they did, they'd almost always take it.
When the Church massacred magicians, most secular kings watched without intervening, some even siding with the Church. One reason was the wickedness of many magicians. They were better at robbery than bandits, better at stealing than thieves, and better at assassination than assassins.
"To say they're just ordinary rats wouldn't be entirely true."
The mage shook his head. He was clearly a scholar-type figure, without much guile, speaking his mind freely. "I can sense signs of demonic transformation in them, but it's not complete."
Nice's evaluation of this person immediately rose considerably.
This person wasn't particularly strong, only at the level of a mid-level mage, but his insight was remarkable.
Mages were a strange group of people; their status wasn't solely determined by rank or combat strength. Many mages disliked escapism and abhorred violence, instead being interested in research.
Soon, this magician intrigued Nice even more, because he levitated a mouse, observed it for a moment in his palm, cast a few spells, and then said, "I think these mice have the potential for further demonization."
His tone was uncertain, clearly lacking confidence, but for Nice, it was excellent news.
Nice had consulted Larvin and other magicians, including the two high-ranking magicians serving Prince Philip; he had even shown them the blood clot, but no one could offer any advice.
"Do you have a way to make them fully demonized?"
Nice asked excitedly. He didn't need them to be completely demonized, just to have a higher degree of demonization than they were now.
The higher the degree of demonization, the larger the blood clot would be, the more energy it contained, and the better it would be for the evolution of small creatures.
“I don’t have much expertise in this area. The Blazing Tower is very skilled in elemental magic. When it comes to magical beast research, the most authoritative are the Thousand Forest Tower in Kann Forest and the Black Swamp in Banidoro.”
The mage glanced furtively at Nice when mentioning the latter.
The Black Swamp was absolutely forbidden to the Church; most mages who came from there were dark wizards and necromancers.
Nice’s expression remained unchanged. He wasn’t one of those madmen from the Inquisition. He simply disliked the Black Swamp, wouldn’t associate with people from that place, and would never go near that cursed place.
“Aren’t you going to Elna? Will the Thousand Forest Tower also recruit students there?”
Nice asked, certain he wouldn’t go to such lengths. The Kahn Forest is located on a remote corner of the western continent, a journey by sea that takes more than half a month, almost like a trip to the Holy Land. Elna,
on the other hand, is the center of Hasburg, the main city of the Has family. When the first two rulers of the Has family were emperors of the Holy Empire, Elna was still the imperial capital. It is only three hundred kilometers from Kaonni. Chapter Two ◆ Expert In the sky, a huge figure resembling a hawk flew close to the clouds. Below, a fast horse galloped along the road, pulling a carriage behind it. It was an extremely simple carriage, with nothing but two wheels, an axle, and a chair fixed to the axle. For short distances, riding a horse is undoubtedly the fastest, but for long journeys, a carriage is faster. Looking up at the sky, the figures soaring beneath the clouds filled Niss with envy. He longed to fly too, but alas, he couldn't. "Windwing" was an intermediate-level spell, the exclusive domain of elemental mages. Only elemental mages could communicate with the wind, allowing it to propel them forward. Other mages, even if equipped with such wings, could only glide, unable to soar. Niss could only mutter to himself, "They don't even fly very fast." As for how much of this was genuine thought and how much was simply jealousy, only he knew. From Admont to Elna, the entire route was a wide road paved with blue flagstones, wide enough for four carriages to travel side by side. Driving at breakneck speed on such a road, a strong wind whipped against the carriage, making a hissing sound against the wheels and axles, a sound that even drowned out the clatter of hooves and the wheels grinding against the ground. The sky was gradually darkening; early spring brought frequent rains, so the clouds were thick. More importantly, it was past three in the afternoon, the sun was setting in the west, and the sunlight was waning. They had set out at dawn, and now it was nearing evening; the 300-kilometer journey had taken nearly ten hours, which wasn't slow. Climbing a hill, Nice's eyes lit up; he finally saw his destination. In the distance lies a basin. The area controlled by the Hass family is almost entirely mountainous, with only these scattered flat areas suitable for habitation. Over time, these areas have evolved into villages, towns, and cities.

However, this basin is vast, far surpassing not only Kaoni but also Admont, which appears small in comparison. For the Has family to choose it as their main city, Elna must be an enormous city.
From here, only a vague outline can be seen; the entire city is obscured by the distance. Not only are pedestrians unclear, but even houses are barely visible. Only the squares are discernible.
Elna has many squares, especially one area that can be described as square after square, with relatively few buildings—this must be the central area where the royal court is located.
Looking closer, a city wall divides Elna in two, enclosing the central area, while the outer area, though large, appears somewhat chaotic in its layout.
Although he had never been to the city, Nice had heard of it. Among the many famous cities, Elna was definitely a very young one. It was just an ordinary city before, and it only began to prosper when Rudolf I established it as the royal capital. And it had only been a quarter of a century since then.
Like other cities that had been designated as royal capitals, the city was divided into inner and outer sections. The outer city was a bustling and lively residential area, while the inner city was where the upper class lived, luxurious and grand. The testing grounds for the various magic towers were definitely located in the inner city.
Nice drove the carriage straight ahead.
A river winds its way around the city of Elna, forming a natural barrier, almost an insurmountable moat. A dozen or so bridges span the river, some made of stone, others of wood.
Nice followed the other carriages onto one of the stone bridges. Guards stood watch at both ends, but seeing Nice dressed as a knight, they dared not stop him.
After crossing the river and entering the city, he was surrounded by a cacophony of sounds. Shops lined both sides of the main road, and many pedestrians hurried by. With
so many people, there were also many vehicles—horse-drawn carriages, taxis, and handcarts. Nice had to slow down, shaking his head as he drove the carriage forward at a leisurely pace.
Although it was once the capital of the Holy Empire, with a large population and great prosperity, not much less than Béni, the capital of his homeland, Frankish Empire, it clearly paled in comparison in terms of grandeur and scale. Béni had eight main thoroughfares radiating from the royal court, leading directly outside the city. The largest main thoroughfare could accommodate twelve carriages side by side, eliminating the current congestion.
After finally reaching the entrance to the inner city, Nice could see the mage standing at the gate from afar, clearly having arrived long ago.
Nice thought of the "Wind Wings" spell again, and a pang of envy rose in his heart; the ability to fly was something to be envious of.
A troop of soldiers stood at the inner city gate. The checks here were far more stringent than those in the outer city, but when the magician boarded Nice's carriage and passed through the gate, the soldiers not only didn't check him, but the drummers and trumpeters in the corner even sounded their horns and beat their small drums, welcoming him inside.
This was the advantage of Mei's transcendent status; many nobles didn't even enjoy this level of respect.
Continuing on, they encountered many people along the way, all of whom bowed in greeting.
Nobility was also divided into different ranks. Many of those living in the inner city were like Luke and his companions—born into noble families but without titles.
In Beni, such people could only live on the outer edge of the inner city and weren't considered true nobles, but here, they were still treated as nobles, albeit with little status.
Nice didn't need the magician's directions. As soon as he entered the inner city, he saw a tall tower—a very tall tower, much taller than any church spire. From a distance, it looked like a straight pillar standing there.
He hadn't seen this tower when looking down from the mountain ridge or in the outer city; clearly, it was the work of some kind of magic.
"A magic tower here too?"
Nice asked, finding it strange; he didn't seem to have heard of it before.
"That's just a projection, a signal that a magic tower is beginning to recruit students,"
the magician explained.
"Which magic tower is this projection of?"
Nice asked purely out of curiosity; there were no records of magic towers in the Nangdao Academy's library.
"You could say neither, or you could say both. Most magic towers look like this—a straight pillar, with perhaps slight imperfections at the top and bottom. This projection has a low tower about ten meters tall at the base, with a blurry top."
The magician was just like Luke, very talkative and prone to rambling.
Although Nice didn't know these things, he knew the purpose of magic towers.
A magic tower is equivalent to a castle, a watchtower, and an observatory. It's a hollow pillar with a central passageway, and a platform at the top equipped with magic circles for monitoring the surroundings, astronomical instruments for observing celestial phenomena, and terrifyingly powerful offensive magical devices.
Of course, some magicians also build their residences on top, because at such a height, it's like a deserted island, almost completely isolated from the outside world, which is very beneficial for meditation or conducting experiments.
In fact, it's not just magicians who like tall towers; churches do too. The higher the place, the easier it is to communicate with God. Besides, there are things similar to astrology and divination in divine arts. The church's emphasis on celestial changes is definitely no less than that of magicians. The pointed roofs of churches serve a similar function to tall towers.
"The people from Thousand Forest Tower arrived before us,"
the magician said, pointing into the distance.
Following his gaze, Nice looked over.
In one corner of the lawn, a giant eagle was perched. This eagle was almost as big as a horse, with iron-gray feathers, and looked exceptionally fierce.
Eagles are very sensitive creatures, and this giant eagle was no exception. Pointed at, it immediately turned its head, its sharp eyes gleaming with a chilling light. Suddenly, it sprang to its feet, flapping its wings, and charged towards them.
Nice initially didn't know what was happening, but a series of squeaks from behind the carriage immediately brought him to his senses. It was the five rats he had brought as samples; they were all in a chaotic frenzy, circling their cages wildly.
The eagle must have sensed the rats' presence and realized they were unusual, so it wanted to eat them.
He didn't care about the rats, but charging at them like this, before he could even catch them, he and his horse would be hit first. What frustrated him even more was that the horse pulling the carriage wasn't the well-trained warhorse it used to be. Overwhelmed by the giant eagle's imposing presence, its legs buckled, and it collapsed to the ground.
In a panic, Nice formed a hand seal with one hand and reached into his robes with the other, pulling out feather fragments and scattering them into the air. Among magic, the Lightness Spell was the one he was most familiar with; he had even specifically studied the simplification and rapid activation of the Lightness Spell incantation.
The giant eagle was a magical beast, and a highly intelligent one at that, tamed from a young age. It was very familiar with magic, and seeing Nice's posture, it immediately knew he was about to cast a spell. So, it swayed its body, and a blue light emanated from it.
That was a magical shield, powerful enough to block one high-level offensive spell, or a dozen mid-level ones.
Unfortunately, Nyss wasn't attacking; it was casting a supportive buff spell.
A magical shield wouldn't block this type of magic. Otherwise, wouldn't it be terrible to be on the battlefield with a magical shield but unable to cast other spells like Fire God?
The Lightness Spell pierced through the shield instantly and landed on the giant eagle.
The eagle didn't react immediately, feeling its body suddenly become almost weightless. Previously flying close to the ground, it suddenly rose seven or eight meters, soaring high above its prey.
Her reaction was quick; she abruptly folded her wings and plummeted to the ground. At that moment, the magic that had made her feel weightless vanished instantly, and she sank heavily, crashing to the ground.
Seeing the giant eagle land headfirst, Nice unceremoniously pulled out a rope and threw it over. The rope quickly wrapped around the eagle's legs, binding it tightly.
All of this happened in the room; those around only saw the giant eagle rush towards them, rise and fall, and finally end up on its back, struggling on the ground.
The mage who had brought Nice was also dumbfounded; it took him a long time to finally give a thumbs-up.
Nice's method of dealing with the giant eagle was nothing special; it was just a simple agility spell. The only commendable aspect
of this spell was its speed of casting, the entire sequence flowing smoothly like water, but that wasn't particularly remarkable. Its strength lay in the exquisite way it was used.
There are various schools of magic; some focus on rote memorization, some on research, and others emphasize practical application, striving to achieve their goals with minimal cost.
The lightning-fast series of spells just now had a touch of the latter.
"Which one of you has a problem with my mount?"
a delicate shout echoed from afar, followed by a loud buzzing sound.
The magician who brought Nice shouted
shamelessly, "It has nothing to do with me! It has nothing to do with me!" He jumped off the carriage and scrambled to the side. He still had a shred of conscience, and in the midst of his haste, he turned back and whispered to Nice, "Sorry, I can't help you. Be careful."
They had gone astray, but one thing was undeniable: fighting these people was utterly pointless.
"Which magic tower does this guy represent?"
Another magician approached. This man was also in his twenties, with a long face, deep-set eyes, and a broad forehead. He looked extremely cold and aloof, like a block of ice. "I haven't seen this person before. Perhaps he's a representative of some not-so-famous magic tower,"
the female magician said angrily, her words carrying a clear derogatory tone.
"Perhaps they came from the swamp,"
another mage spoke up, his words very cryptic. The Black Swamp was a taboo subject for most mages.
"That's possible. The people of the Black Swamp value practical combat most, and besides, 'Berserk' is a spell they really like to use,"
the female mage reiterated her opinion.
In a corner, a prematurely aged, emaciated mage shook his head vigorously. "What a joke! Open your eyes! Didn't you see the holy power on that guy? He's a priest, a priest who knows a little magic!"
The other mages were immediately startled. Reminded of this, they all used spells like "Eye of True Knowledge" and instantly saw that Nex was enveloped in holy power.
Anyone with holy power must be a priest. In this world, there are only priests who know magic, absolutely no mages who know divine arts.
"Is it necessary to speculate here? Why not just go down and ask him?"
the kind-hearted mage suggested. The other mages had no objections, except for the female mage, who was sulking, but she didn't object either. The place where these people were located was the top floor of the tower. Although it wasn't a real magic tower, the layout here was no different from a real magic tower; there were no stairs at all. These mages jumped down from above, slowly drifting down like feathers. Upon landing, one of the mages stomped his foot, causing a slight tremor in the ground. With a single step, the mages were already over ten meters away, much faster than galloping on horseback, gliding across the snow, or leaping through the treetops.
In the blink of an eye, the group was before Nice.
The female mage casually waved her hand, and an invisible hand gathered the copper bees scattered on the ground, returning them to her training tube. At the same time, the struggling giant eagle seemed to awaken, rolling over with its legs in the air, easily severing the ropes binding its feet with its razor-sharp beak. Having just broken free, the giant eagle cried out, wanting to fight Nice to the death.
The female mage pointed her staff, and the giant eagle obediently stopped; it had suffered enough from such creatures before.
Turning her head, the female mage sized up Nice: "How old are you?"
The female mage was quite direct, asking without hesitation if she couldn't tell.
"Fifteen years old,"
Nice replied, having no reason to hide anything.
All the mages stared wide-eyed, especially the one who had brought Nice; he had always considered Nice an "old guy" who liked to act young. "Then how long have you been learning magic?"
the female mage pressed, her face as ugly as could be. Being with someone much younger than her was embarrassing enough, but even more embarrassing was that she had actually stammered.
"Less than a year, a little over half a year,"
Nice said. This answer left everyone dumbfounded. The female mage's face darkened further, her teeth clenched tightly around her lip. Her fists clenched so tightly her nails dug into her flesh.
She had always considered herself a genius, and everyone around her praised her as one, a truly exceptional genius. She had begun training at ten, and by twenty-three she had achieved her current level of prowess. The only ones who could compare were the group of people around her.
These mages, representing various magic towers to oversee the tests, were all geniuses like her, around twenty-five years old, yet already mid-level mages.
While a mage who wasn't a top-tier warrior or knight might already be a Grand Knight at twenty-five, for a mage to reach mid-level at twenty-five was already quite remarkable. But compared to the person before him, she and the others were nothing. "Less than a year? And you've mastered both divine magic and sorcery?"
the cold-faced mage asked. He now preferred this person to be an old man who had used magic to rejuvenate himself; that would be much more believable than his previous answer.
"No."
Nice waved his hand several times in the air. With each wave, five throwing knives flew from his hand, the knives flying faster and faster, catching up with the ones in front, colliding in a series of soft "clangs."
If he hadn't offended her, there wouldn't have been any problem. This woman was usually quite easy to talk to, but now, he had no confidence at all. Women are generally petty and hold grudges.
"So, you've come to see me." The female mage crossed her arms, chin held high, a smug look on her face. Seeing this, the other mages inwardly lamented for Nice.
On the highest floor of the tower, Nice and the mages sat around a table. Several mice lay motionless in the center of the table, their faint breathing indicating they were still alive. A magic circle appeared beneath each mouse, rotating left and right, rising and falling under the female mage's control, illuminating the mice inside and out.
The other mages watched, unfamiliar with such things, not even knowing the function of the magic circles. After a long while, the female mage stopped, and her first words filled Nice with joy. "It is indeed possible to continue to corrupt these rats."
"Really?"
Nice was a little too excited and didn't realize that asking such a question was tantamount to questioning the other person's judgment. Other magicians wouldn't care and would just laugh it off, but this woman was different. She had already firmly remembered this unintentional offense.
"Isn't it said that once the source of demonic transformation is lost, the demonic transformation of magical beasts will stop?"
The kind-looking mage asked, somewhat puzzled. He always focused solely on his own field, unlike the mage who brought Nice here, who had a wide range of interests, including biology. "That's just common sense. It's like a torrential downpour; the river rises, and once the downpour stops, the river returns to its original level. However, there are exceptions. For example, a torrential downpour might cause a landslide, and the collapsed mud and rocks could block the river, preventing the river from rising. After the downpour, because the river is blocked, lakes might form upstream. Once the river is cleared, the water level might rise again, though it won't last very long." The female mage explained in a very vivid way.
The others seemed thoughtful, but Nice immediately thought of the mysterious blood clot—undoubtedly, that was the result of the blockage. Knowing that these rats could undergo further demonic transformation, he wasn't happy. What he wanted wasn't a bunch of half-baked demonic rats; he cared about the blood clots. If further demonic transformation required consuming those blood clots, he'd rather remain as he was.
Just then, the cold-faced mage beside him asked, "How many generations can this state last? Without the source of demonic transformation, the demonic characteristics should weaken with each generation, right?"
This was exactly what Ness wanted to ask, and he immediately perked up his ears. "That's hard to say. Aren't the fire ants of Laer Cave the best proof? After the source of the demonization was taken away, everyone thought that the fire ants would gradually weaken over time. But what happened? Their numbers have actually increased, and they've become a stable species."
The female mage inadvertently revealed her interest in this new demonized species. The fire ants of Laer Cave appeared three centuries ago. After the source of the demonization was taken away, no one paid any attention to them anymore. By the time everyone noticed the anomaly, the changes had already stabilized.
This one, however, is a newly appeared species. To encounter such an opportunity is definitely a stroke of good luck. "Your teacher seems to have studied those fire ants,"
said the mage who brought Nice over. The female mage gritted her teeth inwardly. She glared at the guy, but she couldn't stay silent; otherwise, people would guess what she was talking about.
"Our teacher proposed a hypothesis. He believed that when a population reaches a certain size, some offspring's bloodlines will inevitably become purified, and their demonic transformation will increase significantly. Since the strongest among social creatures is king, and the king has absolute mating rights, his offspring are very likely to inherit his traits. In this way, demonic transformation doesn't weaken but rather strengthens. Eventually, a balance will be reached."
The room fell silent, everyone deep in thought. This theory was new to everyone, but no one questioned it because it seemed quite reasonable. "What I need... is actually just a type of blood clot from these rats."
Nice, somewhat embarrassed, finally told the truth.
The magicians didn't care at all, as if it were perfectly natural. Magicians and priests weren't bound by morality; they didn't have many ethical considerations. In their pursuit of knowledge, they often conducted experiments that were considered highly taboo in the church, such as dissecting corpses and conducting biological experiments.
Not to mention capturing and taming magical beasts alive.
Another method is to tame them from infancy. Magical beasts have very long lifespans, some even longer than humans. Their young grow very slowly, but the unique secret techniques of the Thousand Forest Tower can accelerate their growth in a short time. Although these hastily matured magical beasts are far weaker than naturally grown ones, and their lifespans are much shorter, their combat power when used in conjunction with a mage is still terrifying. Most of the magical beasts raised in the Thousand Forest Tower are obtained this way.
She has never had a powerful magical pet. The giant eagle that brought her here was her teacher's magical pet. Although it could cooperate with her, they weren't truly intimate. She longed to have her own powerful magical pet.
This meant she would have to risk infiltrating a magical beast's lair and stealing a cub, no easy task. Ordinary animals become exceptionally ferocious during pregnancy and lactation, let alone magical beasts.
Moreover, mages had absolutely no advantage against magical beasts.
The mages who knew the female mage well immediately understood her plan upon hearing her request. The mage who brought Nice quickly shook his head.
Nice immediately realized this request was not so simple.
"You at least have to give me a range. I'm not doing this to my death."
The female mage blushed, glared at the guy who had warned Nex, and muttered in a low voice, "I'll deal with you later."
The mage who brought Nex turned ashen-faced; he had certainly suffered enough at the hands of this female mage.
"Didn't you just say you once killed a magical beast all by yourself? I need your help dealing with another magical beast, but you don't need to kill it; just steal its cubs."
The female mage stated her request.
Nice was taken aback at first. He was acutely aware of the terror of magical beasts, and he would never do such a dangerous job. Then he remembered something else: in the giant rat's nest, besides the little creature, there were two baby rats. Those two baby rats had only been in the headmaster's care for half a year. They hadn't had the chance to devour those blood clots, so they were still tiny, their eyes open but not yet weaned.
Thinking of this, he quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pulled out the soft armor underneath.
"Take a look and see what level this magical beast is?"
Nice took off the soft armor and placed it in the center of the table.
As he unbuttoned his shirt, the other magicians exchanged bewildered glances. The female magician blushed and turned away, unsure of his intentions. Only after hearing his words did they realize what was going on.
The seemingly honest-looking magician stood up, took the soft armor, and touched it. A glint of light appeared at his fingertips as he touched the leather.
Initially relaxed, his expression gradually turned serious.
Seeing this, the other magicians immediately knew this leather was extraordinary and rushed over. Even the female magician was captivated by the atmosphere, her eyes fixed on the soft armor.
The seemingly honest magician put the armor down and gestured for the others to proceed.
The mages were all ruthless, taking turns testing the soft armor. Each of them used a different method, but there was one thing in common: after their tests, their expressions turned solemn and astonished.
The female mage, in particular, after using several different testing methods, her face alternated between pale and flushed as she muttered to herself, "It's actually a Viscount-level magical beast with earth, water, and metal attributes. Its true strength is probably even above that of an Earl-level magical beast."
"No noble-level magical beast is simple, yet you managed to kill it."
The mage with the cold face stared intently at Nice, also feeling the urge to fight her. He wasn't a combat-oriented mage, but in terms of strength, he was the strongest among them.
"How did you kill that magical beast?"
asked the kind-looking mage, a question almost everyone who knew about the incident would ask.
Nis had no choice but to recount his story.
After hearing it, the mages were speechless. Even if they knew this method could kill the beast, they wouldn't dare do it.
Nis removed his soft armor for them to see, not to discourage them, but to ensure they had no further questions. He then said, "This magical beast had many offspring, over twenty of whom were nearing adulthood, and three were still cubs, their eyes not even open yet. One of them became my pet."
His words made the female mage's eyes light up; a magical beast descendant of this level was definitely not weak.
"There are two more cubs?"
The female mage seized on the key point.
"Two young beasts and twenty other rats are all in the hands of a very greedy fellow. His knife is extremely sharp, and he's ruthless when he kills people. I don't have the confidence to get them for you."
Nice laid down the unpleasant truth first.
He didn't want to pay for this petty woman's expenses, and besides, he was broke.
In the months of preparation for the previous war, they had spent money like water. Just hiring the people from the Hidden House to forge bows and swords for them had cost a fortune.
Recently, the shipyard, docks, and workshops were spared because the Hidden House also had a stake, otherwise they really wouldn't have been able to manage.
"If it can be solved with money, then it's no problem,"
the female mage said nonchalantly.
Mages are divided into different ranks; those who are less successful certainly don't have much money, but someone like her, with a reputation for genius, a certain status in the magic tower, and being groomed as a successor, would definitely not lack money.
However, women are naturally inclined to haggle, and given her dissatisfaction, she would find fault even in the smallest things.
"Judging from the situation with these rats, none of that magical beast's offspring inherited his strength; their abilities are definitely much weaker, so your reward isn't enough."
"Then what do you want me to do?"
Nice was angry; half of his anger was genuine, and the other half was feigned.
He had plenty of experience being skinned alive by the ruthless headmaster, so he was quite adept at bargaining. He knew he absolutely couldn't appear too weak or too eager with a shrewd guy; it was best to make him understand that if things went too far, he'd rather part ways.
Sure enough, the female mage's attitude softened immediately upon seeing his anger.
"I don't have a suitable magical beast yet. I'll ask for your help once I find one. If you're not confident, you can refuse."
She compromised, no longer insisting.
"Alright."
Nice also conceded a step. After all, none of the giant rat's offspring were as powerful as it; the difference was significant. He felt somewhat inadequate. He'd see how things went. If it was easy, he wouldn't mind helping; if not, he could refuse later.
With an agreement reached, the female mage grabbed one of the rats on the table, suspending it in mid-air.
She reached into her magic pouch at her waist, removed a package, and took out some powder.
With a "poof," the powder spread around the rat, and then the magic circle below lit up, the powder gradually seeping into the rat's body.
The rat showed no other changes, except its fur became increasingly shiny, gradually acquiring a metallic sheen.
Nis knew perfectly well that if the rats' fur moved towards a metallic hue, it meant their transformation was in the right direction. All twenty-odd rats were shimmering silver, and the little creature was now turning in that direction as well.
"Looks like my test was correct,"
the female mage said with satisfaction; she hadn't been entirely confident before.
"As I mentioned earlier, the magical beast you killed, Rose, possessed earth, water, and metal attributes. To achieve a complete transformation, all three attributes must be activated. Unfortunately, these rats only have water and earth attributes; their fur lacks metal."
The female mage explained in detail; since they had decided to cooperate, she wouldn't deliberately hold back.
"You mean, we have to add some metal to their food?"
Niss had some knowledge of magical theory.
"Their stomach acid can't digest metal. You can add some minerals, like pyrite, which is easily absorbed,"
the female mage said.
Niss suddenly understood. He finally understood why there were so few fully enchanted rats.
Kaoni was surrounded by mountains but had few mineral deposits, let alone metal mines.
At this moment, he also remembered when he dug up that nest, he found a large pile of garbage inside. At the time, he thought the rats had collected this garbage randomly, but now, recalling it, most of that garbage contained metal parts.
It was very likely that the enlarged rat, as its intelligence gradually increased, understood the role of metal for itself and its offspring, and consciously collected these things.

Chapter 3 ◆ Opportunity
A flapping sound came from overhead, and the giant eagle descended, landing beside the female mage.
"You go first, I'll follow behind."
The female mage climbed onto the eagle's back, where a chair was placed.
Nice ran towards his carriage, got in, and urged the horse forward, but as soon as it approached the eagle, it immediately neighed in panic; it was already terrified.
Nice sighed inwardly; this warhorse, bought at great expense, was practically useless. Although it had no wounds, it was like a mentally ill person; once stimulated, it was likely to exhibit unexpected reactions. Sending such a warhorse to the battlefield was tantamount to playing with its life.
He glared fiercely at the female mage.
The female mage didn't take it seriously at all; she didn't even offer a hint of apology. To be honest, she didn't think much of the warhorse.
Thousand Forest Tower not only raises various magical beasts, but also ordinary livestock, with a large number of horses. Horses were one of Thousand Forest Tower's main sources of income, with annual transactions of around two to three thousand horses, all purebred thoroughbreds.
Seeing that the woman had no intention of apologizing, Nice had no choice but to accept his bad luck.
He untied the horse from the carriage, took out a knife, and shaved off a large patch of its mane. This was a mark to indicate that the horse was no longer suitable as a warhorse; otherwise, if it fell into someone else's hands and was ridden onto the battlefield, it could cause fatalities.
After finishing that task, he pondered how to acquire another horse. Just then, a childish voice rang out from afar: "I've finally found you!"
The voice was familiar, and Nice quickly turned to look. He saw a person running towards him, followed by a group of people.
As the person drew closer, Nice realized it wasn't "he" but "she"—the very little girl he had captured and then had relations with.
This girl was still dressed as a boy, looking like a prince, in a blue velvet dress with a red cloak draped over her back and a small crown on her head.
The only things that could prove she was a woman were the elaborate lace on her blouse, collar, and hem—female lace.
"What are you doing here?"
Nice looked around, his heart filled with worry.
The little girl had asked him to leave her at Raymond Cathedral. He watched her go inside and exchange a few words with a servant, after which the servant respectfully ushered her in.
Did the people of Raymond Cathedral offer the little girl to Duke Frederick?
The little girl hadn't revealed her identity, but she had joined Duke Louis's camp. Regardless, she and Duke Frederick were enemies, and venturing into enemy territory was a dangerous undertaking.
When Lionheart returned from the East, he had to disguise himself as a commoner before setting foot on the Holy Empire's territory. Even then, he couldn't return safely and was captured en route. It was then that he was imprisoned in the Lion's Cage. Although this ultimately forged his immortal fame, it's an undeniable fact that this king spent several years in prison.
The little girl clearly guessed Ness's thoughts, so she cried and said, "I'm being held here, will you save me?"
Ness had initially been worried, but seeing the little girl's expression, he no longer cared. This little girl's thoughts were ever-changing, always full of mischievous ideas, her words and actions a mix of truth and falsehood, making her unpredictable. But one thing was certain: if she were in trouble, she would never show weakness. On the contrary, she would bare her claws and act exceptionally fiercely, making her opponents hesitant to do anything to her.
Nice had experienced this little girl's tactics firsthand, so he knew it all too well.
Besides, looking at the respectful manner of those chasing after her, tinged with anxiety and wariness, they clearly cared deeply about the little girl's safety. These people didn't seem like pursuers at all; they looked more like servants.
"You've escaped, haven't you? I'll catch you and give you a reward. Don't forget, I'm also a subject of the Has family,"
Nice joked. He was a member of the church, and the Duke had no say in his affairs.
"No disrespect to Princess Anna!"
one of the attendants reprimanded sternly.
Nice completely ignored the man; he belonged to the church, and church members held a transcendental status.
"You're actually a princess?"
Nice was somewhat surprised.
Although he knew this little girl's identity was not simple, he hadn't expected her to be a princess.
Upon reflection, he seemed to understand.
No wonder this princess hadn't brought any guards, hiding in a troop sent by a count's territory. That troop wasn't led by the count himself, but rather by his sons. Clearly, the little girl's country, while outwardly neutral, was secretly siding with Duke Louis.
"Which country are you a princess of?"
Nice asked.
This time, the little girl had no reservations: "I'm not really a princess. My father is the governor of Iberia, Cerhalan."
As a member of the church, he certainly had some understanding of the various forces at play. Nice had, of course, heard of Governor Cerhalan, and when he met him, he understood why the little girl had said her father intended for her to inherit everything, and why her subordinates had been persuaded.
Iberia was a city, much like Asax. This governor was essentially one of the five powerful figures in Asax, except that he was the sole ruler, with no one else able to check his power.
Iberia's population and prosperity far surpassed that of a small port like Asax, but even with just one city, Marquis Cerhalan's status wasn't enough to make the two dukes wary.
The reason both dukes treated the little girl with such utmost respect was because Ibilisi had a colossal backer: the Gesar City-State Alliance.
In the south, there were four of the largest and most renowned city-state alliances: Bisa, Fren, Morang, and Vena, along with a multitude of much smaller alliances. In the north, there was only the Gesar City-State Alliance. While these alliances were not large in territory, they were incredibly wealthy.
Money could buy them talent, hire powerful individuals, forge the finest weapons and armor, and form mage legions. Therefore, even the slightly larger alliances were extremely powerful, and the two dukes would undoubtedly try their best to win them over. Even if they couldn't make these alliances allies, they at least wanted to keep them neutral.
Soulful, Nice now understood why the Gesar City-State Alliance had intervened in the struggle between the two dukes.
Legally, the five city-state alliances are also part of the Holy Empire, but most of the time they govern themselves and rarely interfere in the affairs of the Holy Empire.
Rarely interfering doesn't mean they don't interfere at all. For example, this time, the Gesar city-state alliance appeared neutral, but in reality, it sided with Duke Louis and secretly provided substantial financial support. Now that Upper Balia has won the war, the Gesar city-state alliance will certainly get a share of the profits.
The fact that the little girl has run to Elna again strongly suggests that the Gesar city-state alliance is planning to exploit the situation, trying to squeeze more money out of the losers.
Nice didn't intend to expose the matter. He had no liking for Duke Frederick anyway, and Luke and the others had already decided against serving the Hass family. Even if the duke suffered great losses, it wouldn't concern them.
Besides, even if he did expose it, the stubborn duke wouldn't listen.
"Who is this auntie? Could you introduce me?"
The little girl glanced at the female magician, feeling a pang of jealousy seeing Nice and the woman together.
The female magician had initially thought the little girl was cute, but the word "auntie" immediately changed her mind; she now found the girl incredibly clever.
"I have other things to do and don't have time to waste with you. If we don't leave right now, I'm not going."
She didn't intend to argue with the little girl and turned her attention to Nice.
Nice was quite annoyed; this was completely an unwarranted misunderstanding, but he couldn't explain himself. He could only tell the little girl, "I have something urgent to do right now and can't chat with you. I'll find you later."
As he spoke, he was about to get into the carriage when he realized that the horse was no longer usable. He felt embarrassed and glanced at the female magician, pointing helplessly at the horse.
The female magician snorted and said nothing more.
While the commotion was raging, another group of people approached from afar. Leading them was Duke Frederick, who was riding a horse, followed by a group of people, who also seemed to be riding horses.
To be able to sit on equal footing with Duke Frederick, their status was definitely not simple.
Nice glanced at the little princess beside him, vaguely guessing that these people, like the princess, were probably nominally neutral representatives. Perhaps the recently ended war had made this arrogant duke realize how lacking in supporters he truly was.
The duke also noticed Nice. Normally, he wouldn't have paid attention to such insignificant figures he'd only met once or twice, let alone remembered them. However, these five men had left a very deep impression on Duke Frederick.
Especially shortly after the war, the duke kept hearing rumors that this group was called the Achilles Squad, implying that he was Agamemnon.
This news led to another rumor: the defeat was entirely due to his unfair treatment, which demoralized his troops, discouraged skilled warriors from achieving merit, and instead promoted sycophants who performed poorly on the battlefield.
Furthermore, rumors circulated that after the unit penetrated deep into Upper Balia, it sent back intelligence that could have prevented the defeat, but he ignored it, leading to the final loss.
What infuriated Duke Frederick was that he had no way to refute this.
Because of this, the duke harbored no goodwill towards Nice, yet he couldn't simply ignore her.
"It's a pleasure to see you again,"
the duke greeted Nice, his words carrying little weight. "You and Princess Anna seem to know each other well. Have you known each other before?"
he said, turning his head to look behind him.
Behind him, on a horse, sat a stout man in his thirties with a round face that always wore a smile. He wore a large soft hat adorned with peacock feathers and studded with jewels. The man himself was also adorned with jewels, wearing a long, opulent gold silk robe that was somewhat gaudy.
"By the way," the Duke said, "because you left the battlefield so early, there's something I haven't had a chance to tell you. You won that competition. Tell me, what reward do you want?"
He wanted to prove he wasn't favoring the other team.
Those rumors made him feel very embarrassed. The first and third rumors were unchangeable; his men had indeed stolen the spoils, and he had indeed ignored the intelligence, ultimately even losing the war. However, the second rumor could be eliminated.
"If you must reward me, just give me a horse. My horse was frightened and is no longer usable."
Nice turned and glanced at the giant eagle; it would kill two birds with one stone.
"That must be Miss Linda from Thousand Forest Tower. Why do you seem to be in such a hurry to leave?"
The Duke was far more polite to the female mage; her reputation as a genius had already spread far and wide. She would surely become a great mage in the future.
Duke Frederick always valued the strong.
"I'm just going to take a look; I've heard they have some magical beast cubs there. Your Grace, the Duke, surely knows that anything related to magical beasts will definitely pique our interest in the Thousand Forest Tower," the
female mage said, showing the duke the respect due to her. Although her status was extraordinary, the magic tower couldn't be completely detached from worldly affairs; as the representative of the Thousand Forest Tower, she had to maintain good relations with the major powers.
Duke Frederick had heard of Kaoni. He had contributed to the eradication of the rat infestation, and afterwards, his men even brought back half a meteorite from Kaoni. He was planning to gather the best alchemists to forge a divine artifact for him, adding another piece to his treasury.
"Good luck,"
Duke Frederick waved to the female mage.
Everyone else followed him away, except for the one wearing the large soft hat. The little girl, usually very lively and never quiet, was unusually docile at this moment.
Nice had already guessed that this person was likely Marquis Cholharan.
"Would you like to walk with me?"
the Marquis invited.
Nice glanced at the female mage Linda, who snorted and dismounted from the giant eagle. Although the Gesar City Alliance was not as powerful as Hasburg, it was not someone she could afford to offend.
Elnaya was not a single-pointed circle; the inner city was not entirely within the outer city, but slightly off-center, with one side extending outwards and connecting with the mountains.
Nice followed behind the Marquis, and the two rode on horseback. He was still riding that broken horse, a horse unfit for battle but perfectly fine for everyday riding.
The little girl rode with him. She clung to Nice's waist, their expression quite ambiguous. But the father in front of them seemed oblivious.
The Marquis of Cerhalan didn't know what had happened between his daughter and the man who had captured her, nor did he care. He only knew that his daughter hadn't suffered any loss or done anything irreversible, and that was enough.
"I've heard a lot about you and had someone investigate. Your experiences are indeed very interesting, and I have high hopes for you."
The Marquis stopped at a relatively quiet spot, and what he said was one of the reasons he tacitly approved of his daughter's actions.
Nice is best known for his business acumen and shrewd management skills, and Iberia, being a city-state primarily focused on commerce, desperately needs such talent.
Marquis Cerhalan even hopes to win over the entire Rosicrucian Order, so he has thoroughly researched each member of the team.
Nice excels in planning and management, Ister in construction, Metro in business, and with Luke, who can bring them together, this team is undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with.
"I want to test you,"
the Marquis gestured to the surroundings, and an eerie silence fell.
Nice was slightly taken aback; he hadn't expected the Marquis to be a mage, and a rather skilled one at that.
Generally speaking, most lords choose to become knights, rarely pursuing a career as mages. This is because learning magic requires too much time, and lords are most vulnerable to assassination; those with superior martial arts skills are less likely to be targeted, a disadvantage mages have no advantage in this regard.
"If you were a neutral party, unrelated to either of the two dukes, who would you choose to invest in?"
the Marquis asked.
"Is that even a question? Duke Louis, of course,"
Nice replied without hesitation.
"Young man, don't just look at immediate gains,"
the Marquis said enigmatically, a hint of disappointment in his voice.
If the two dukes were likened to businessmen, one would be extremely shrewd, the other an ambitious but incompetent spoiled brat. Investing in the former might be very profitable, but the returns wouldn't be substantial. Doing business with the latter, however, would be risky; he could easily make a fortune simply by undermining others.
This time, the forces represented mostly by city-states, and they shared the same opinion. If forced to choose, they would undoubtedly side with Duke Louis, but in terms of investment, Duke Frederick was an excellent target.
"I stand by my opinion,"
Nice said, unwilling to admit he was wrong. He knew there was no absolute right or wrong in this world. Looking at a problem from a distorted perspective would lead to distorted conclusions, but failing to stand by one's own viewpoint and blindly following others was absolutely wrong.
"Tell me about it,"
the little girl interjected from behind, her words clearly biased towards Nice.
The Marquis of Cerhalan didn't object; he was powerless to object either. He had always been helpless with his precious daughter.
Nice knew the little girl was helping him, and he didn't want to be looked down upon.
"God gives a person a wonderful opportunity, but if that person not only doesn't seize it but also ignores it, they will be punished by God. How could I possibly invest in someone who is destined to be punished by God?" "Ah?" The Marquis was greatly surprised; this time he really wanted to hear Nice's thoughts.
"Tell me quickly," the little girl urged immediately, knowing her father's thoughts best.
Nice no longer kept them in suspense. When the old man Simon took him away from Frankish and to Admont, he had analyzed the situations of various countries. Now, he not only understood the old man's analysis but also had his own insights.
"The Frankish king colluded with the Pope to move the Papacy to Avignon, but the Papal States still exist and still consider themselves the legitimate authority. The Church is now a mere shell. If I were Duke Frederick, I would never vie for the title of Emperor of the Holy Empire. That's just an empty title, and even if I obtained it, its usefulness would be very limited. I would take advantage of this excellent opportunity to fully support the Papal States while infiltrating into the Papal States and the Church, targeting the pro-Haas faction..." Nice spoke eloquently, and Marquis Cerhalan's expression grew increasingly solemn.
He hadn't thought of this, nor had his subordinates. It wasn't a difference in intelligence, but rather a difference in perspective between worldly people and church members. Worldly nobles had always been wary of the high and mighty church, only wanting to keep their distance and never considering turning around to control it.
In this respect, King Philip IV of Frankish insight was indeed far-sighted, far superior to that of other monarchs. However, his actions went too far, angering various nations and causing the Papacy to lose its former prestige.
No nation can prosper forever. Although the Frankish Kingdom was currently glorious, it would eventually decline. When the Frankish Kingdom fell into turmoil and could no longer support the Papacy, the Papacy would naturally relocate back to its original location. At that time, whoever held the most power within the Papal States would be able to control the Papacy and, consequently, the entire Church.
Understanding this, Marquis Cerhalan felt incredibly frustrated. His city was in the north, making intervention impossible; the southern city-states, on the other hand, had a better chance.
"So, city-states like Pisa and Florence are the most suitable investment targets?" the Marquis asked. He was merely testing the waters and certainly wouldn't actually do it. He himself owned a city-state, and was both a collaborator and a competitor with those city-states—a situation that was absolutely unchangeable.
"They have long been under the oppression of the Papacy and least want the Papacy to return. If my guess is correct, those city-states will take this opportunity to strengthen their own power, consolidate their secular authority, and try to break free from the control of the Church as much as possible." Nice didn't say one more thing: all these city-states were too small to swallow the behemoth that was the Papacy. The only ones with the qualifications and suitable geographical location were the Frankish Kingdom and the Has family.
He didn't say it because the Gesar city-state was similar to those other city-states, and the marquis might lose face if he did.
"If you were in my seat, what would you choose?" the marquis asked. This wasn't just talk; he was actually somewhat tempted. He wouldn't mind letting this young man marry into the family.
He had this idea because his family didn't need to rely on political marriages to consolidate their position. This was the advantage of city-state nobles compared to territorial nobles. Territorial nobles needed to form alliances and help each other, while city-state nobles were bound together by interests. For them, marriage was just icing on the cake.
Nice understood the implied meaning in those words, but he wasn't tempted. A sword always hung over his head; even if he were married off, it wouldn't be his true strength. With a single order from the Papacy, he would still be imprisoned and burned at the stake.
However, he decided to prepare for this possibility.
"Like the city-states of Pisa and Florence, you can take this opportunity to strengthen secular power and weaken the Church's influence. If everyone joins forces, this will be much easier. Besides, the southern city-states have to worry about future Church backlash, but you don't need to. In Iberia, the Church's power is much weaker, so you can act more boldly." "As a member of the Church, yet you're trying every means to weaken its influence…" The Marquis looked at Nice strangely.
"The Knights Templar are also part of the Church, and their members are far more devout than I am, their contributions to the Church far exceeding my own," Nice casually remarked.
Marquis Cerhalan was speechless.
Every cause has its effect; the false accusation against the Knights Templar had dealt a severe blow to the Church's prestige. Many factions within the Church were becoming increasingly wary of it, and the current turmoil within the Church, besides the Papacy's relocation, was largely related to this incident. Nice
was unaware that the various city-states had actually been in contact with each other two years prior, all harboring a growing desire to break free from the Church's influence. Therefore, the Marquis hadn't previously shown particular surprise.
However, before this, no one had analyzed the situation as thoroughly as Nys had just done. Everyone else simply felt it was a good opportunity; the internal strife within the church had weakened its control over the secular world.
The little girl had been listening quietly the whole time. Seeing her father's satisfied expression towards Nys, she immediately seized the opportunity to ask, "I'm planning to go and see his territory, is that alright?" She was indeed good at judging opportunities, knowing her father would definitely agree.
"Alright, but be careful not to get captured again."
They went as a pair, but returned as a large group.
Two days later, the little girl was already by the canyon in Kaoni, enthusiastically rubbing the little thing. She wasn't as rough as Margaret, but she still made the little thing feel very uncomfortable.
"I was captured by this guy, wasn't I?" The little girl finally understood how she had been captured.
She had been wondering whether the silver object that had knocked her off her horse was some kind of magic or a special hidden weapon.
Nice glanced apologetically at the little creature. He had guessed this would be the outcome, which was why he hadn't revealed it; this time, he couldn't hide it any longer.
The female magician Linda also looked at the little creature with great envy.
Before coming here, she and Nice had visited the Hidden House and obtained two more baby mice. She had also seen the adult offspring.
The mouse was a descendant of the Rat King, but there were differences.
The one Nice held was a hybrid, a descendant of the large rat and some kind of squirrel.
Mice and squirrels look completely different, and their habits and diets are worlds apart; they are entirely different species. Generally speaking, it's unlikely they will produce offspring. However, if such a hybrid does occur, there's a high chance of mutation. Most monster mutations result in increased power, usually by adding a new attribute to an existing one, or by fusing existing attributes.
The more she knew, the more jealous the female mage became. She turned her head away coldly, muttering, "Hmph, what's so great about that?"
Meanwhile, a group of servants were pouring a large amount of powder into a fermenting pool.
It was mineral powder bought on the return journey, including pyrite, sphalerite, and dacite. All the minerals were fairly common. Malachite could also be bought, but that's used to make wall decorations, so it's more expensive.
The mineral powder was poured in, mixed thoroughly, and then two servants used large ladles to scoop it down into the canyon.
The rats in the canyon were already impatient; they all rushed to the foot of the cliff, trampling each other, their sharp noses twitching anxiously as they squeaked.
As soon as the fermented feed arrived, all the rats immediately began to fight over it like mad. To them, this strange-smelling stuff was an absolute delicacy.
Tens of millions of rats jostled and scrambled for food, creating a spectacular scene.
An ordinary woman witnessing this would surely be horrified, but the two women above the canyon were different. The young girl was fearless, while the female sorceress was an expert in this field; many of the spells she had seen were far more grotesque and disgusting.
After continuously feeding the rats from the two fermentation pits into the canyon, ensuring they were all well-fed, the sorceress Linda began chanting incantations. She continuously pulled powder from her pocket and gently tossed it into the air, where it solidified, forming a spreading cloud of mist.
Suddenly, she made a few casual strokes. With each stroke, a luminous line appeared in the mist, and moments later, these lines formed a massive magic circle.
Once the magic circle was complete, the female mage pressed her hands down, and the mist descended towards the bottom of the canyon, enveloping it and trapping the rats beneath. The
rats, already full and leisurely scurrying about, didn't appear much different; they still looked the same. However, anyone with even a slightly sensitive sense could detect the atmosphere of the entire canyon gradually changing, becoming suffocating.
In the eyes of Nice and the female mage, the previously calm magical elements in the canyon began to tremble violently.
One or two rats wouldn't be a threat, but there are tens of millions of rats here. If each one becomes even slightly stronger, the combined effect is considerable.
The little creature sensed this change and became unusually excited.
Suddenly, it darted to the edge of the cliff, pushed off the ground with its legs, stood upright, and let out a piercing scream.
This scream was far inferior to the scream of the large rat; it seemed to be responding, or perhaps surrendering. At the same time, a red mist rolled and rose, slowly ascending and gradually condensing into a ball in mid-air.
"This is—the Blood Sacrifice!"
The female mage's eyes widened.
She desperately wanted to replace the little creature with the two baby rats in her hands. The blood sacrifice was proof of the Rat King's legitimacy; that was the true Rat King.
Previously, the large rat had only controlled the horde through intimidation. Those rats, lacking intelligence and living by instinct, naturally couldn't know anything about the blood sacrifice.
But now, the demonic blood within these rats had been awakened. They had transformed into magical beasts, possessing no intelligence, and received an innate inheritance: the "blood sacrifice" was their acknowledgment.
Finally, this land had a true Rat King.
The little creature leaped up, pouncing towards the red mist. The mist quickly condensed, turning into a drop of blood. The drop of blood "whooshed" into the little creature's body, rapidly merging into its flesh and blood.
Almost instantly, the little creature's aura changed, becoming terrifyingly unapproachable, as if it weren't a rat but a ferocious beast.
Meanwhile, the millions of rats at the bottom of the canyon seemed to have fallen seriously ill, all lying on the ground, abnormally weak.
The blood sacrifice wasn't just an affirmation of the king; the soul itself was also a form of offering.
Seeing this, although it was the first time he'd heard the term "blood sacrifice," Nice understood everything. From now on, the little creature would no longer need to consume the blood clots within the soul-devouring vessel; the blood sacrifice would be more efficient and more effective.
"What effect does the blood sacrifice have on those rats?"
Nice turned to ask the female mage.
"That's for sure. This drop of blood has shortened their lifespan by at least two-thirds,"
the female mage said irritably. She was actually envious; if it were her two pets receiving the blood sacrifice, she would never have said such a thing.
Although the rats' lifespans were shortened by two-thirds, they originally only showed slight signs of demonic transformation, with lifespans of only two or three years—not much longer than ordinary rats. Now that their demonic blood had been awakened, their lifespans had increased several times over. This increase and decrease still resulted in a much longer lifespan than before.
This suited Nice quite well; he didn't want these rats' lifespans to become too long.
Rats are already incredibly prolific, and if their lifespans were increased several times over, they would quickly overpopulate again, making the outbreak much harder to manage than before.
"You've gotten a huge advantage. Don't even think about competing with me for the magic cores from those dead rats anymore,"
the female mage said, growing increasingly angry.
"Why? We agreed on a 30/70 split, and you've already taken the majority,"
the little girl beside Nice retorted before Nice could react. The future governor of Iberia naturally possessed a businesswoman's temperament; she was meticulous and calculating whenever profits were involved.
In fact, she already considered everything Nice possessed as her own.
"Didn't I tell you? He got a huge advantage. Don't underestimate that little bit of blood; it contains most of the rats' essence, which will shorten their lifespan considerably. And the longer a magical beast lives, the more its magic core accumulates. What I'm getting now is definitely not as much as before..."
The female mage retorted confidently. Women, after all, are good at bargaining; those as straightforward as Elena are rare.
"You're going back on your word! You've already made a decision, and now you're going to back out? If a merchant acted like you, no one would do business with you,"
the little girl retorted, equally unyielding.
The two women began to argue.
Nice pretended not to hear. He had no interest in haggling like this. Perhaps it was because he had spent so much time with Dean Glorill, but he always took a step back first, setting his bottom line, and then refused to budge. If negotiations failed, he simply wouldn't make a deal.
This was the only way to deal with that skinner. If he tried to bargain little by little, he would eventually be taken advantage of.
As far as he was concerned, the magic cores he received from the agreement with the female mage Linda to split the profits 30/70 were meant for his little creature to devour and continue evolving. Now that he had the Blood Sacrifice, he didn't need those magic cores anymore.
At this moment, he was more concerned about his pet. The little creature had already jumped back to the edge of the cliff. His aura continued to rise, and suddenly, he stood upright once more.
Another piercing screech rang out, this time much louder and more ear-piercing than before, rolling away like a tidal wave.
Seeing the little creature stand upright, Nice was already on guard, quickly setting up a barrier.
The tidal wave-like screech caused the barrier to tremble violently, like a candle flame in the wind or a withered leaf in the rain. Because it was set up hastily, the barrier wasn't very large, only protecting those within a five-meter radius. Many were outside the barrier, clutching their heads and kneeling in pain.
Fortunately, the screech came and went quickly. From the degree of suffering, Nice could roughly estimate the little creature's strength, which was still far inferior to the giant rat from before.
The giant rat's screech was so loud it kept Wood and Tamorjiang rolling around in shock, and the rat's location was exactly where the church is now, while they were in the very center of the estate, two or three hundred meters apart.
However, with the blood sacrifice, his pet would gradually approach the giant rat's strength. He even had a further plan: if fate allowed, he could find another source of supply, perhaps allowing the little creature to break through the limitations of its bloodline and evolve into a higher-level magical beast.
This wasn't possible before, but after getting involved with the female mage Linda, he had this idea. That's why he hadn't refused the woman's excessive demands. While
Nice was deep in thought, the little creature came up with another new trick.
Just when everyone thought the little creature had finished its madness, it suddenly rolled onto the muddy ground beside it and pressed the ground with its tiny, almost invisible front paws.
The ground, which had been lush and covered with a layer of fine green grass, suddenly began to grow wildly upwards. Grasses that were originally just over an inch long grew at a speed visible to the naked eye.
The others were simply shocked by this sight, but the female magician Linda was the only one who understood the mystery. Her eyes widened, her jealousy intensifying, and she muttered to herself, "This is a mutation. The earth and water attributes have merged, creating a plant attribute."
Nice remained silent. He knew very well that he had probably misjudged this time. This wasn't a mutation, but its own ability—an ability it inherited from its mother.
I'd read in books before that sometimes a monster that recognizes a master can gain some of its abilities from them, while in other cases the opposite happens—the master gains abilities from the monster. Both scenarios seem to depend on luck and there's no fixed pattern.
Right now, the little thing is stimulating plant growth, just like when he used the giant rat's diagram to turn the area around the platform into green space. Even the newly sprouted plants are radiating a soul-like aura.
The little creature was clearly not satisfied with such a small patch of grass. Its current intelligence was equivalent to that of a seven or eight-year-old child, so in its eyes, the grass was like fermented feed.
Once it understood this, it immediately ran forward. Wherever it ran, the surrounding grass grew wildly, just as it had before. In the blink of an eye, the hillside, which had previously been covered in patches of grass like a scab, transformed into a lush green expanse.
Seeing this, not only the female magician Linda, but even Nice himself felt envious. He envied his pet, and he envied the little creature's ability. Although he could also make grass sprout, he couldn't do the same for such a large area. This wasn't just about the strength of magic, but also about efficiency.
Humans use magic in countless ways, but their efficiency is far inferior. Monsters, on the other hand, possess only a few abilities, but by pushing these abilities to their limits and consuming soul-like magic, they can accomplish things dozens of times more powerfully than humans.
Suddenly, he felt as if his back was on fire. He quickly turned around and saw the female mage's eyes, blazing like a soul. On her beautiful face, the left side read "jealousy," the right side "envy," and her forehead "resentment."

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