Chapter 228: Fragments

Chapter 228: Fragments

The Mist’s spontaneous counterattack caught Ancient Tree off guard. By the time he realized what was happening, the Mist had already fled far away. He could only watch helplessly as the Mist plunged into the City Manor. Sighing, he hauled the dazed and disoriented Shajia back to his side.

Shajia, suppressing her lingering fear, asked, “Is the Great Wizard angry?”

“No, he’s still in a daze,” Ancient Tree stated with certainty. “And he wouldn’t be angry with me anyway.”

Ancient Tree, having failed to show off, bid farewell to Shajia and slunk away. Shajia, aching all over, limped back home.

Once home, Shajia pulled out the leaf Ancient Tree had given her from her chest. That was close! That power had already swallowed her whole, but it spat her out just as casually when it touched this leaf.

It was a harsh lesson. Anything involving power should never be taken lightly. While warning herself, her desire for power grew even stronger.

She liked Ancient Tree, this monster who would listen to her stories. But if she wanted to get a little closer to him, she also needed the support of power.

Shajia’s hair slowly writhed. Every strand was her hand, her sword, her shield. Back in Sandstone City, this full head of hair was her pride. If not for everything that happened later, that pride might have lasted forever. Maybe she would have become a legend of Sandstone City alongside Kkel and the others.

Becoming a brave and beautiful female Knight—this was her childhood dream and her father’s hope, but it ultimately turned to dust.

But there was still a chance, a chance to become a legend.

During this time of learning under the White Robes, she gradually understood their undisguised thoughts. Following the Great Wizard wasn’t just about power for them.

Some of them were already too old. Pachu, for example. How many more years could he struggle even if he gained power? He just wanted to live a little longer, to secure a larger part in the legends.

Pachu, that kindly old Wizard, paid a lot of attention to her and often praised her talent. She understood Pachu’s thoughts. He needed a successor to pass on his legacy, to add a richer stroke to his legend. He picked and chose among the young Wizards until he met her. Pachu must have learned about her in detail, so he patiently waited for her to resolve the knots in her heart.

She had also learned about Pachu. A woman who wasn’t annoying always found it easier to gather certain information.

Before, although Pachu had always served Anya, he wasn’t an Anya Person. He came from a minor noble family in Lianhai. This kind of obscure minor noble wouldn’t be acknowledged outside Lianhai, but it didn’t diminish the advantage of his birth—a relatively good education.

Driven by a thirst for power or other reasons, the young Pachu came to the Anya Defense Line, the front against the Demon Clan. There, he gradually made a name for himself, and then the White Robes sought him out.

She always thought Pachu was a kindly old man, but the young Wizards from Anya were very afraid of him. Through observation, she began to understand. In a reality where power commanded respect, how could mere kindness earn the approval of the other White Robes?

She didn’t know why Pachu was so scary. But she had already realized that with some people and some things, it was too late by the time you felt afraid. So she always remained humble. Perhaps it was this very humility that made Pachu value her.

She lacked the high spirits of the other young Wizards, possessing only caution and wariness.

…

Finding a talented disciple wasn’t difficult, at least not for the current Northland City. After a period of interaction and observation, most of the White-robed Ones had their preferred candidates.

Pachu wasn’t the only one who saw potential in Shajia, but he acted quickly enough that the others didn’t try to compete for her.

Pachu saw his own younger self reflected in Shajia. Only, her luck was better; she learned Reverence at this age. Those past experiences, in Pachu’s view, were precious treasures, even though many saw them as too heavy a burden.

Everyone had their secrets, especially regarding a Wizard’s abilities. Even if laid out completely, the details would be hard for outsiders to grasp. Moreover, how could matters concerning one’s very life and death be shared without reservation?

Pachu’s eyes were more than just weapons. Occasionally, he would see some Fragments. These Fragments shaped who he was today.

After his Awakening into a Wizard, Pachu acted like a king and tyrant in his hometown for a while. After all, it was a remote place without any truly powerful figures. At a gathering of country nobles, he met a beautiful young woman. At that moment, a vision appeared in his eyes: a warm hearth fire, and by the fire, a plump woman.

The beauty faded. Pachu instantly lost interest. It was only many years later, when Pachu recalled that image again, that he understood the warmth within it. Did he regret it? Perhaps he should have had a warm, happy home.

He fled his hometown, not to achieve great deeds, nor with a clear destination. Only because—the beauty was gone, and he didn’t want to grow old and die in the countryside.

A country bumpkin landowner, unused to the wider world and accustomed to lording it over others, inevitably had some foolish arrogance. So, carrying this foolishness and the aggressive attitude honed from bullying the countryside, he ventured out.

After a meal, during a verbal confrontation, he met a kind-hearted person. After praising his extraordinary valor, this person pointed him towards a bright path. It was truly a shame for a fierce warrior like him not to seek glory and achievement. Filled with gratitude and pride, he set off without looking back for the Anya Defense Line. Because in that instant, he saw a mighty army following behind him.

Pachu arrived in Anya as a country noble and joined the ranks of the mighty army. There was indeed an army following behind him—because he was thrown to the very front. Run. Run desperately. If he slowed down even a little, he would be trampled to death by those behind…

His vision was always like this. He could see others clearly, but never himself clearly. By the time he learned to understand himself through others, he was already entering his twilight years.

He thought his life would just be like this. Occasionally, he would still think of the plump woman by the hearth fire, that warmth that had become unreachable.

Until the Anya Delegation sought out the White Robes, sought him out…

…

Many people in Northland City wanted to leave their mark, to make their influence last. A few did it through successors, but more did it through marriage and children, like Mary in the City Manor.

As the first person in the Bran Family preparing to settle down and start a family, it was only natural she received attention. Although Bran didn’t want to, Mary’s actions forced him to pay attention.

The room. After marriage, the two of them must have a room big enough. The bridal chamber also had to be prepared in advance. Bran couldn’t be bothered to deal with her. So Mary, embodying the Northlander spirit of fearing neither death nor hardship, began large-scale construction within the City Manor.