Chapter 18

Chapter 18

The flame horse, with hooves like fire, leapt nimbly, but the carriage, engraved with magical runes, remained unwaveringly smooth. Gis looked down with scorn at the dirty commoners who were as filthy as rats.

The sole value of these commoners was to amuse him with their ridiculous and comical antics.

The thought of the imminent cries and pleas for mercy brought a hint of twisted amusement to his face.

But as his lips curled up slightly, he was thrown off balance by a sudden, tremendous impact, tumbling haphazardly inside the carriage.

"Ahhh— Guards, help— My tongue!!!" The interior of the carriage, adorned in a uniform style of dazzling jewels, tossed the tender-skinned Gis around for a good while, his body getting painfully knocked by the gems.

The carriage, a symbol of nobility, was not only aesthetically grand but also highly practical. Its compartment, inscribed with numerous protective runes, was many times sturdier than ordinary materials and only shattered into countless pieces after rolling over a dozen times.

"Cough, cough, cough..." Gis, clutching his mouth and climbing out from the debris, was still dizzy but his loud voice was not hindered.

"Who is it?! Who dares attack me?! Guards! Kill him!!!"

The scene, previously a chaotic mess, fell into an eerie silence. The commoners, witnessing the disheveled Gis, felt they wouldn't live to see the afternoon sun. Having seen the young master's disgrace, how could they possibly survive!

But then...

An overwhelming sense of oppression came from above. In a fleeting glimpse, they could only discern a person dressed in black, who had appeared out of nowhere and with a mere kick, sent the carriage flying, killing the horse and wrecking the carriage, leaving the well-protected young master Gis covered in disarray and wounds.

The man in black didn't speak, but the intangible aura of authority he exuded made everyone freeze.

Phelos, paying no heed to the ranting Gis, found a staff of level 30 and used its built-in skill to demonstrate an Arcane Missile, pulverizing the stones on the ground into dust. His attributes were so high that in his anger, he could not guarantee perfect control of his power; an unmeasured Arcane Missile might just blow the city apart, hence the use of the equipment's innate capabilities was preferable.

Then, he instantly cast a group resurrection spell.

But he forgot that the arcane missiles that come with level 30 equipment require casting time: half a second. Not long, but just enough to be outpaced by the instant group resurrection spell.

Fortunately, the group resurrection spell restores half of the necessary mana, so there's no worry that those just revived will die again immediately.

As the divine light descended, Hailey, who had died, once again smelled the pungent stench of blood. She was somewhat disoriented, but her consciousness gradually returned, and she felt an immense relief from the pain that had once tortured her every moment. Yet, for some reason, it felt as if she was being pressed down by some immeasurably heavy object.

But then, that oppressive weight lifted.

Is this what it feels like after death? If she had known dying was this relieving, she would have embraced it sooner! It’s just a pity, after finally having the chance to taste candy, she missed out in the end...

As a wanderer always on the brink of death, Hailey realized at the first moment of the accident that she was going to die, her only instinct was to protect her brother Rocco.

Right, Rocco? Although she instinctively shielded her brother, she was well aware that she wasn’t strong enough to make a difference; there was no chance Rocco could have survived.

Being together in the afterlife seemed like a good choice, but where was her brother Rocco?

"Rocco—," Hailey abruptly sat up, but before she could finish calling her brother’s name, the familiar streets halted her.

The world after death... why does it look exactly like the world before death?

“Sister!” A cheerful and lively voice rose from her embrace. As a sister who played the role of both mother and father, Hailey knew Rocco’s voice all too well. But how long had it been since she last heard such a sound?

Hailey felt as if she was floating in a dream, yet her brother's warm touch reassured her this was not a dream.

Both siblings were still stained with blood on their bodies and clothes, clinging to each other in confusion, yet the expected relief of having survived a disaster did not shine in their eyes.

"Annie!!!" The parents, having regained their daughter, cried out her name as they sobbed with overwhelming joy, "By the Light Above, I shall offer my most devout faith every day!"

The collapsed wall concealed the shocking event of their resurrection neatly; the whole process from death to revival took but seconds, so brief that even the dead themselves hadn’t realized they had passed.

Despite being a level 32 mid-level swordsman, Gis was the last to catch on.

"Phelos?! You dare strike me?!" Disbelief filled Gis's eyes, "Bold move! Very bold, Phelos! Just you wait! Even if you are the lord, I will make sure you kneel and apologize to me!"

No one knew who Phelos was, but hearing Gis's words, the crowd then realized that the priest who had healed so many in an instant was actually their lord!

When it came to trash-talking, Phelos was not to be outdone, but dealing with such a low-level pushover who could be easily crushed was simply uninteresting.

Phelos, who had moved beyond petty amusements, had Gis tied up and thrown into the dungeon directly.

"Phylus?! How dare you! How dare you do this to me?! I will make sure you're weeping at my feet in regret!"

"Tch." Phylus, with little patience, withdrew his leniency, sending four arcane missiles hurtling towards the man's limbs.

"Aaaahhhhhhhhh!" Giselle, with a pitifully low tolerance for pain, let out a piercing scream.

Phylus, far from remorseful, launched an arcane lasso, binding the man's ankles tightly.

"Buzz~" The twenty-centimeter-long pocket devilfish conscientiously flew up and clamped onto the staff.

As Phylus descended from the sky, the crowd instinctively parted to create a wide path for him, knowing well his aversion to kneeling; they instead bowed their heads in respectful homage.

"Lord, thank you for your mercy!"

"Lord, we are grateful for your bounty!"

"Lord, you are an incarnation more benevolent than the sun itself!"

"Lord, ..."

A chorus of praises spilled from the people's lips, to which Phylus seemed oblivious, his brow not even twitching.

However, Giselle's increasingly agonized screams seemed to subtly reflect Phylus's good mood.

Just minutes ago, the once imperious Giselle was dragged by his bare feet, the rough ground and embedded stones tearing through his expensive and elegant clothes, grazing his tender white skin, leaving a trail of blood behind.

At first, Giselle hurled insults and screams, but after one street, his delicate throat became hoarse; after two, a taste of blood silenced him.

"Lord!" Blaze hurried from the safe zone as quickly as he could, but he was still too late.

Phylus probably guessed what Blaze wanted to say next and preempted with, "Spare me your prattle or leave."

Blaze closed his mouth.

With no more words to sour his mood, Phylus benignly instructed Blaze, "Draft a recruitment notice. Have it posted on every street."

Giselle could be dealt with any time; Phylus had no moment to waste on him. What mattered now was the business of the factory.

Even with his heart of stone, the sight of his skeletal-looking people stirred something within him.

Opening the factory and paying wages was, after all, the most pressing matter at hand.

After giving the order to Blaze, Phylus realized it was a bit impractical: "Not many can read; therefore, write a stack of magical announcements, the kind that can speak out loud."

Blaze: "???"

Blaze immediately snapped out of his anxious fear.

While every command from the lord was right, a magical announcement seemed too far-fetched! Who could even create such a thing?

Phylus caught Blaze's blank and bewildered expression and frowned incredulously, "You can't do this either?"

Audio retention magic is merely a level 5 spell; isn't Blaze already a level 28 sorcerer? How can he not know something so fundamental?

Sorcerers, like mages, are casters, though their magic diverges in focus. Sorcerer's magic is more enigmatic, often leaning towards buffing abilities.

Mages, on the other hand, favor high-impact, showy spells, particularly elemental mages who seem to find no purpose in life if not to dazzle.

Yet, audio retention isn't exclusive to mages, it's just a level 5 universal skill!

"Observe." Phylus had no particular love for teaching, but if he had to personally handle such trifles in the future—what was he, a lord or a factory foreman?

Considering Blaze probably hadn't mastered the skill of instant casting, Phylus deliberately elongated the chanting syllables and made the magical circuitry light up bright red.

"Recruitment notice: Lansville Factory No. 1 requires 1,000 gathering workers, gender irrelevant, ages 4-12, meals included; 1,000 fire stokers, gender irrelevant, ages 12-18, meals included, 100 copper monthly; 500 porters, gender irrelevant, over 18 years of age, meals included, base pay of 300 copper with commission. Exceptional employees will receive additional bonuses."

"Interested parties should inquire with Steward Blaze at the Lord's Manor; successful interviewees will be employed."

As the sparkling script appeared on the paper, it drew exclamations of surprise.

"Lord!" Blaze shouted in disbelief, "There are so many people here!"

The emergence of a powerful transcendental being was a matter that could overturn the status quo. Unlike the nobility, who were always few in number, the commoners and slaves were the "majority" of this world; statistically, it was more likely for those with high talents to emerge from amongst them.

To maintain their long rule, the nobles not only assimilated high-talented slaves and commoners into their class but also monopolized knowledge.

The nobles hoarded knowledge from the commoners and slaves, and also from each other.

The greater the noble house, the more "geniuses" it seemed to contain. Was it really because of their superior genes? Perhaps partially, but the root lay in their accumulation of knowledge.

Every spell, combat technique, skill, potion formula, and methodology... was a closely guarded secret.

For Phylus to conduct a lesson in the presence of a large crowd—albeit on a simple low-level spell—was an unprecedented act!

What to do if these lowly commoners learned it!

Blaze glared fiercely at the civilians around him, especially at the casters; he was itching to pounce on them and end them there and then, yet he was also delighted to have witnessed the magical circuit of a new spell.

Phylus, ignoring Blaze's turmoil, simply asked, "Have you learned it?"

A caster’s mental and intellectual attributes are never poor, and a clear sign of high aptitude in these is an excellent memory.

Blaze nodded as quickly as possible, "I've memorized it."

The other casters quietly committed the spell to memory while discreetly preparing to leave.

Secretly learning a spell was a serious offense; demonstrating a magical circuit openly on the street could very well be a trap.

For instance, using the audio retention spell as bait—those tempted and caught could suffer tortures with no recourse, as neither the Empire nor the Church would support them for stealing a spell.

And it was quite possible that they might be coerced to surrender their own confidential spells in return.

Unconcerned with the undercurrents in the street, Phylus instructed Blaze to handle the recruitment and then turned to leave.

The Cloud Shuttle Devil Fish swiftly followed; Gis, barely having caught his breath and relying on his level 32 recovery ability, had his skin's abrasions start to scab over, only to be dragged along and re-injured, the pain now even more excruciating than before.

"I'll kill you! Phylus, I swear I'll kill you!"

It was as if Phylus had only just remembered Gis's presence, glancing down at him with an indifferent curve appearing at his lips, "Do you truly know the taste of death?"

"Isn't there a tool room next to the underground wine cellar? After moving the stuff out, throw him in there, lock the door, and no one is allowed near without my command."