Translator: CinderTL
The next day dawned clear and bright, sunlight streaming through the glass windows of the Lord's Manor's eastern courtyard and spilling across the stone-tiled floor.
Paul had just finished reviewing a military report in his office when Marianna entered, accompanied by two young girls.
They appeared to be around fifteen or sixteen years old and were nearly identical twins—long, golden hair cascading to their waists like strands woven from sunlight; delicate, petite features with fair skin and eyelashes that fluttered faintly in the light; and simple, gray-blue dresses. They stood shoulder to shoulder, like a pair of fledgling birds too afraid to move in the wind.
Their heads were bowed, fingers tightly intertwined, their expressions timid, lacking the courage to even meet anyone's gaze.
Whenever Paul's gaze swept over them, one of the girls would tremble slightly, and the other would immediately shrink her shoulders in response.
"Marquis Grayman, this is Beverly Taylor, and this is Harriet Taylor," Marianna introduced softly. "Twin sisters, daughters of a deceased friend from the Arcane Order."
She paused, then continued in an even tone, "They were originally registered members of the Arcane Order, but their abilities... are somewhat peculiar, and rather awkward."
Paul observed them without rushing to speak.
Marianna continued, "Their ability could be described as... a form of telepathy. When one sister focuses her thoughts and emotions entirely on the other, the other can clearly sense those feelings and even receive vague impressions of her thoughts. But that's all. They can't manipulate elements, cast spells, or perform any practical magic. After testing, the Arcane Order classified their ability as within the realm of magic but deemed it useless, categorizing them as 'null talents.'"
The two sisters beside her wore expressions of disappointment.
Marianna's voice carried a hint of regret. "Within the Arcane Order, power reigns supreme. 'Half-baked' spellcasters like them, who contribute neither combat strength nor merit a place on the roster, are seen as burdens. Since childhood, they've been ostracized, ridiculed, and even barred from basic mage training. In a few years, they'll likely be conscripted into the Fire Dragon Legion. The Legion's soldiers are primarily composed of individuals who can sense Magical Power but lack the ability to cast specific spells. But I don't want them sent to the dangerous battlefield."
Marianna turned to Paul. "I've heard you've been secretly sheltering Spellcaster refugees from Horns Bay in Alden—those who have nowhere else to go and simply wish to live peacefully. That's why I brought them here."
Her tone was earnest yet measured. "They don't want to be witches, nor do they aspire to wield great magic. They only wish to live like ordinary people in a place where no one knows them—free from scrutiny and contempt."
Beverly glanced furtively at Paul before quickly lowering her gaze again. Harriet gently tugged at her sister's sleeve, her lips moving slightly as if silently conveying something.
Paul studied the sisters and nodded slowly. "The Northwest welcomes all who are willing to abide by the law and work hard. They may stay."
"Thank you, Lord Grayman!" Beverly bowed deeply, pulling Harriet along with her.
Paul regarded the sisters calmly. "Your telepathy... does it have a range limit? For example, if one of you were in Northwest Bay and the other in Gabella, could you still sense each other?"
Beverly, standing slightly ahead, raised her head, her voice as soft as wind whispering through a window crack. "No... there's no distance limit. As long as we focus, no matter how far apart we are, we can sense each other's... heartstrings."
She paused, then added timidly, "But... we can only transmit feelings, vague impressions. We can't even articulate a single clear sentence. Lord Grayman, I'm sorry to disappoint you. The Arcane Order tried using our abilities to transmit information over long distances, but we're utterly... incapable of conveying specific details."
Clearly, she had already guessed Paul's intentions.
"We apologize for disappointing you," the sisters said in unison, bowing deeply.
Paul murmured a noncommittal "Hmm," showing no sign of disappointment, and quickly changed the subject, asking if they would like to reside in Alden, where the Council of Administration could arrange simple clerical work for them.
But inwardly, his mind was churning like a stormy sea.
No distance limit.
These five words struck him like lightning, flipping a switch deep within his memory.
Those fools at the Arcane Order! Their understanding of information is so superficial!
As a programmer in his previous life, he understood the fundamental nature of information. Whether it was sound, text, or images, everything could ultimately be broken down into binary code—sequences of 0s and 1s. The abilities of the Taylor Sisters before him were essentially a form of long-range information transmission:
Thinking = 1; Not thinking = 0. Sensing = Connection; No sensing = Disconnection.
If they could establish a coding system—for example, using three seconds of focused thought to represent "1" and one second to represent "0," with a ten-second data packet cycle—they could break down text into binary sequences.
The elder sister would transmit coded thoughts, while the younger sister would receive them on the spot. An assistant would then decode the binary sequence back into intelligence, eliminating the need for messengers. The information would be delivered instantaneously and undetectably. This wasn't just an upgrade in communication methods; it was a quantum leap in strategic capabilities.
While not as efficient as true telegraphy, it was far more effective than the flag-raising signal system he was currently building.
He forced himself to breathe steadily, suppressing any outward signs of emotion. Now wasn't the time for excitement; he needed to confirm more details: Could the sensing be interfered with? What was its efficiency? But these questions couldn't be asked now.
There were some things he didn't want Marianna to know too much about, even though she was his mother.
He said gently, "Settle in first. If you need anything, I'll arrange for someone to help you get acquainted with the area."
He turned to his mother. "Ms. Marianna," he said, "you mentioned earlier that the Taylor Sisters are considered null talents by the Arcane Order. Are there others like them—either among your associates or that you know of?"
Marianna paused, seemingly surprised by the question. After a moment of silence, she nodded. "Yes, there are."
She looked at Paul. "In the Arcane Order, they're mostly marginalized, excluded from core affairs. Some work as clerks, others as laborers. They're not considered combat assets and aren't trusted. Over time, they've grown accustomed to keeping their heads down."
Paul's gaze fell on Beverly and Harriet, who remained with their heads bowed, their fingers tightly intertwined as if they were each other's only support.
"Tell them," He said, his voice calm yet resolute, "Alden welcomes them."
"Not as witches or mages, but as ordinary people. As long as they're willing to work and abide by the law, the Northwest will offer them a place to belong—free from discrimination, without the stigma of being 'null talents,' and without anyone questioning what they can or cannot do."
(End of the Chapter)
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