"The Aetherial Filament."
As Elias heard this from Earl Alaric, he felt a strange familiarity.
So it was a type of tea... As the dusty box of memories was opened, Elias immediately recalled a series of events tied to the Aetherial Filament. He had drunk it before. It was a green leaf tea that Calder particularly liked. When brewed, the tea was a light green, and the needle-like leaves danced up and down in the boiling water. Looking at the verdant color, it was as if he was seeing a lush forest.
As for the taste, Elias couldn't remember. It was probably just bitter water, right? Because Old Calder always drank it.
"Is there anything strange about the Aetherial Filament?" Elias asked Calder.
Calder's expression didn't change, but a hint of doubt flickered in his eyes. "There's nothing strange about it... They're just ordinary tea leaves. All of you have drunk it, and so have your parents, but..."
"But if you really want to say there's something special about it, there's only one possibility."
"What possibility?" Elias pressed quickly.
Calder didn't answer immediately. He asked the mute servant to step out before slowly saying, "The tea seedlings of the Aetherial Filament did not originate from this realm but came with me from another world."
Before Calder could finish, Elias rolled his eyes. "Alright, since Earl Alaric didn't come for you, but only for the Aetherial Filament, I'll send him an invitation to the manor for tea tomorrow night."
He didn't want to listen to Calder's outrageous "otherworld theory" at all. With that, Elias turned and left.
Calder looked at the tea box in Dorian's hand and fell into silence.
Water vapor filled the air, and wisps of smoke rose slowly.
Dorian lay on a craftsman's table, watching the tea leaves in his transparent cup rise and fall under the scour of boiling water. This was the Aetherial Filament. It didn't look like anything special.
Dorian privately liked to drink strong tea with milk. The rich milk and tea residue would cling to his lips, and he would lick it away with his tongue, feeling incredibly satisfied.
Calder always liked to tease him, saying that only children liked to drink milk. So, to appear more mature, Dorian usually drank only the bitter tea with the scent of grass and trees in front of others.
He had drunk the Aetherial Filament countless times. It was bitter with a sweet aftertaste. The flavor wasn't particularly special, so why would Earl Alaric specifically ask his brother about it? Could it be, as his mentor said, they had doubts about the origin of the tea seedlings?
Dorian pondered for a while, but an answer wouldn't come. He simply gave up and continued to read the materials on his mentor's bookshelf.
The materials were mostly knowledge about the Kingdom of Veridia and its surrounding countries, including language, culture, history, characters, medicine, astrology, and more.
Dorian finished reading an epic praising the sea warriors. At the bottom, Calder had written a comment: "The language is exquisite, and the organization is well-structured, but there are too many words of praise, making it impossible to deduce any useful historical information. It can only be used as a supplement to the historical records of the Vargan Empire."
Calder used to study physical data and biological forms, but later discovered that some of the physical constants in this world didn't follow the rules of Earth. This made him realize how strange this world was. In recent years, he preferred to organize and study literary and historical materials instead.
The Kingdom of Veridia and its surrounding countries didn't seem to have a formal historical record. The materials Calder had organized over the past decade were truly unique. Dorian was also very interested in them and read them carefully.
Flipping through the historical records, Dorian saw a new paragraph at the beginning of the next parchment scroll. Calder had annotated a paragraph in Mandarin:
"The people of this realm are not very literate, and basic knowledge seems to be non-existent. For example, ancient civilizations on Earth had a concept of a round sky and square earth to describe the macro environment. Although this understanding was wrong, they still had a concept of the planet they lived on. However, the people of this realm only see their world as a country, and have no concept of a unified macrocosm. I hope I can find the name of this planet (world) in other documents... If I can't find it, I'll name it myself."
Below this, Calder had begun to record some of the universal values of the people in this world. As a native, Dorian knew these materials well, so he simply glanced at them and opened another scroll.
"A Guide to the Application of Traditional Mandarin Medicine and Western Medicine in This Realm." This scroll was written entirely in Mandarin. It was likely that only Dorian and Calder in this entire world could understand its meaning.
Unknowingly, dusk arrived, and the fireplace was lit by the servants. The warm firelight, the chirping of crickets outside, and the cawing of crows from who knows where made for another gentle night.
Meanwhile, on the plains outside the Town of Eldoria, rows of temporary tents surrounded a roaring campfire. What was most striking was the huge and magnificent black tent with gold trim in the center of the camp. The other tents were like stars surrounding the moon, protecting the black one.
This was Earl Alaric's temporary base, but the black-topped tent was not his.
The biting cold wind of the Winter Soil Month howled. Without the shelter of trees, even the knights in armor began to shiver. Earl Alaric, seeing this, ordered a pair of knights to patrol the camp while the others rested by the fire.
After making the arrangements, Earl Alaric slowly walked into the magnificent black tent. The moment he entered, the majestic expression he had while giving orders disappeared, replaced by one of respect and deference.
The tent was sparsely decorated, but every item held a hint of mysterious power. In one corner, a white-bearded old man in a black robe was writing furiously. A crystal ball floated eerily beside him, with mist swirling inside. The old man would glance at the crystal ball, then return to his writing. Alaric looked at the crystal ball but quickly felt dizzy and looked away.
"Did you find the Aetherial Filament?" a hoarse, low voice came from the old man.
With a hint of fear, Earl Alaric recounted his conversation with Elias Varen at Varen Manor.
"Oh?" The old man put down his quill and blew on the blood-red ink. "Even though he said he didn't know about the Aetherial Filament, his expression changed after seeing the wooden box... Could the one who made the box be a person of interest, or perhaps even a magic wielder himself?"
Alaric secretly glanced at the paper. The blood-red lines drew swirling waves, and in the middle were strange symbols. Just one glance made his eyes ache.
"The magical runes on this scroll are called 'Rolling Waves.' They will be useful in the war with the Vargan Empire." The old man paused. "It's a pity you don't have the talent, otherwise you could have left the Old Earth Continent with the family."
Alaric's face darkened. "Father... I will be satisfied if I can take Allan and Irene away. As for me, it doesn't matter if I stay with the family."
The old man sighed, then his expression softened as he thought of his two grandchildren. "A wizard's talent has always been rare. In some places, it's one in ten thousand. It is a blessing that our family has produced two in a row. Since Allan and Irene are my grandchildren, I will take care of them with all my heart."
"It's a pity my talent isn't high. I estimate that in a few years, I will have to rely on my grandchildren." After speaking, the old man looked at the wooden box on the table again.
"The carving is interesting, but the patterns have no magical fluctuations. He must be just an ordinary person, right?" The old man shook his head. Where could he find a magic wielder on the Old Earth Continent? Even elemental fluctuations are imprisoned on this continent. Mystical and bloodline magic wielders can't find the materials they need... After all, this is the Forgotten Continent.
"Since that fellow Elias refuses to tell the truth, he leaves me no choice." Earl Alaric clasped his hands in a fist salute, a cold glint in his eyes. "It concerns Father's promotion; this is a huge matter! Tonight, I will have Mar lead two teams of knights to flatten Varen Manor!"
The old man didn't speak, which was a silent approval. Although he was a White Wizard and wouldn't kill ordinary people without cause, if it concerned his own promotion, a few deaths were acceptable. Besides, while White Wizards are seen as good, that's a joke. The true difference between White and Black Wizards is in the philosophy of magic use; their values are similar. They are simply too lazy to cause more bloodshed.
Earl Alaric discussed the details of Allan and Irene's departure with his father and prepared to leave.
Just then, Knight Commander Mar knelt outside the tent and requested an audience.
"Reporting, Earl, Lord Elias Varen of Varen Manor just sent a messenger over with an invitation