A small courtyard with a few thatched cottages shivered in the cold wind blowing north from Longnu City. This was where Gaia and his old servant lived—a place not even fit for stables compared to the luxurious estate of his "father," the head of the Xien family, Xien Gangluo. Even the head's steed, Southern Rose, ate better than his own son.
Above the small courtyard, two voices suddenly echoed through the dark night sky.
"Master..."
"Victor, you needn't say more. I know your thoughts."
Yet the earlier voice persisted.
"Master, I beg you to help him."
"Victor, are you recalling your own ordeal?"
"Master, Victor remembers his own ordeal. Have you forgotten your childhood?"
"The Infinite Devouring Body is the ultimate shortcut for those who cultivate against the natural order. It transcends the ninth-level inheritance of the apocalypse. If passed to the wrong person, it will inevitably unleash a slaughter that shakes the heavens. How can we make such a rash decision based solely on our compassion?"
"Understood."...
Faithful old servant Anderson sat in the carriage, cracking his whip. The dilapidated cart and its aged horse had been rented for fifty silver coins—an expense naturally drawn from Uncle Francis's money pouch, which held twenty gold coins. That equated to two thousand silver coins, or two hundred thousand copper coins. It sounded like a fortune, but for a lord about to take office with only twenty gold coins to his name, it was barely enough to scrape by.
Countless cold fronts had swept through Dragonrage City this winter. The biting wind howled, whirling dry grass about. The streets lay deserted, not a soul in sight. Shops hung thick cotton curtains over their windows. Lord Gaia of Greenland left through the northern gate of Dragonrage City, heading to assume his duties in his fief. Accompanying him was only one elderly servant. This lord was no better off than a commoner's child, Kang Le.
He scrimped and saved along the way. Gaia was no naive youth; he understood the financial workings of the Abyss world. He knew that twenty gold coins might sound like a decent sum, but it was a mere drop in the bucket when it came to organizing a fief.
Yet he possessed no other savings. His father, the family head, showed him such disdain that any extra allowance was utterly out of the question. Other relatives, even if well-meaning, dared not offer aid after witnessing their father's icy glare.
Uncle Francis, a notorious playboy, squandered his wealth on the women of the imperial capital, Dragonrage City. Having given Gaia these twenty gold coins, he would likely be confined to his quarters for the rest of the month, unable to spend moonlit nights with noble ladies. Giving Gaia twenty gold coins was already the absolute limit of what he could afford.
Along the journey, master and servant subsisted on simple fare. Old Anderson, once a high-tier Silver Warrior and a Level 2 professional in his youth, still possessed the strength of an entry-level Silver Warrior despite his age. When game could be hunted, it became their sustenance.
Chewing on tough, raw meat, Gaia uttered not a single complaint. It was old Anderson who often shed silent tears, blaming himself for failing to care for the young master properly.
Food was manageable, but the further north they traveled, the colder it grew. This was the harshest season of the year in the Abyss of Magic. The biting winds blowing from the north were nearly unbearable even for a fourth-tier professional, demanding thick fur robes for warmth. Yet old Anderson wore only a thin cotton shirt.
Seated inside the carriage, Gaia watched Old Anderson shivering violently outside and felt profoundly saddened. His loyal servant had served him faithfully, yet he couldn't even provide him with warm clothes.
As they passed a small town, Gaia suddenly spoke up: "Anderson, let's go in and take a look." Old Anderson paused, then recalled that to save money, they had barely stopped in towns along the way. Gaia, after all, had the playful spirit of youth.
"Yes, young master." Anderson drove the carriage into the town. Gaia lifted the curtain to peek outside. "Wait a moment." Anderson quickly halted the carriage. Gaia had already darted out and slipped into a nearby shop. Before Old Anderson could recover from his surprise, Gaia returned holding a thick magic rat fur coat.
"Anderson, try it on."
Anderson gaped. "Young master, this coat costs at least three gold coins. We only have nineteen left—we can't be throwing money around..." He began, trying to push the coat back.
"Anderson!" Gaia's small frame stood firm in the biting wind, her voice loud and clear. "Does my word as young master mean nothing? I command you to put it on!"
Though her voice still held traces of childishness, it carried an unyielding resolve.
Old Anderson seemed to understand something. Silently setting his whip aside, he immediately began putting on the coat. Only after seeing him dressed did Gaia flash a mischievous grin, scrambling up onto the carriage with hands and feet. "Alright, let's go!"
"Giddyup!" Old Anderson's eyes brimmed with tears as he cracked the whip. The old horse strained, pulling the carriage slowly out of town.
"Anderson."
"Young master?"
"Is it warm?"
"Warm... warm..." Anderson's voice cracked as he fought back sobs, tears blurring his vision. His mind still lingered on those three gold coins: "Young master, once we reach Greenland, there will be plenty of expenses. This coat you bought for your old servant is far too costly..."
"Don't worry about the money. It's my duty as your young master. Anderson, you're my only family now. You've endured nothing but hardship following me. If I can't even provide you with a warm coat, what kind of young master would I be?" Gaia sighed deeply.
Outside the carriage, Old Anderson wiped away tears and cracked his whip with renewed vigor....
"Master, look—"
The two voices echoed through the sky once more.
"Ah..." The master sighed deeply. "Victor, prepare the equipment."
"Thank you, Master!" Victor's voice brimmed with unhidden delight.
...
Old Anderson tossed a bundle of firewood into the campfire. The crimson flames dimmed momentarily before flaring back to life. Gaia sat hugging his knees, staring blankly at the dancing flames.
"Young master, get some rest. We have a long journey ahead tomorrow."
Gaia nodded and crawled into the sleeping bag beside him. The fire warmed the entire cave, and any chilly gusts swept in through the entrance were quickly absorbed by the heat. Old Anderson, wrapped in his magic rat fur coat, dozed off beside the flames.
In the dead of night, a howling wind whistled through the cave entrance. Suddenly, two shadows materialized at the opening, as if they had been standing there all along.
The servant-like figure drifted ghostlike toward Old Anderson. With a gentle swipe of his palm before the old man, Anderson's snoring began.
Witnessed by an observer, the sequence would have been astonishing: in mere moments, this servant demonstrated mastery of both potent wind magic and hypnotic enchantments. Hypnotic magic belonged to the grand mental arts, yet most mages in the Abyss possessed only one magical affinity. To wield two required at least the rank of Archmage—and this servant possessed strength rivaling an Archmage!
Without pausing, the servant swiftly inserted six sapphire-blue magic crystal prisms, each engraved with intricate magical patterns, beside Anderson's sleeping bag. They formed a hexagram array.
Next, he produced six identical prisms, this time crimson in hue, and soared to the cavern ceiling, precisely aligning and securing them above the ground-based prisms. Any mage witnessing this would have gasped in astonishment: a three-dimensional magic array!
"Master, Victor has completed the setup."
The master nodded. "Take it outside and secure it."
"As you command." Victor vanished without a sound. At the cave entrance, a long shadow was dragged inside.
The master lifted the hood of his trench coat, revealing an aged yet refined face. The old man gazed at Gaia, sleeping soundly in her sleeping bag, his eyes softening with tender affection.
After a moment, he casually reached out into the air. A box of simple, ancient design materialized, its unadorned patterns appearing as if conjured. This display of spatial magic alone would have made any titled Archmage of the Abyss blush with shame.
Three magical locks secured the box. Each had to be unlocked before the box could be opened.
The old man flicked a finger, sending a surge of magical energy into one of the prisms.
With a hiss, a beam of light shot from the magic crystal prism, striking another prism and refracting further. Soon, twelve prisms formed a three-dimensional magic array. Within the magical glow, Gaia's sleeping bag and clothes dissolved automatically, though he remained utterly unaware.
With a casual gesture, the old man summoned a conical flask from the box, filled with fiery red sand.
"Curse of the Gods!" As the old man chanted, the crimson sand drifted and gathered in the air, coalescing into a strange talisman. The moment it formed, a burst of flame erupted with a boom.
The old man released his fingers, and the flame sigil fell into the magic circle. In an instant, the flames filled the entire magic circle, instantly engulfing Gaia's small body.
With another flick of his hand, another conical flask flew out of the box. This time, it contained a skeleton formed from green gas!
"Blessing of the Demon!" chanted the old man, releasing the gas skeleton. The moment it escaped the flask, the flame skeleton expanded infinitely, instantly filling the entire cave. The old man flicked his finger, pointing toward the magic circle. The flame skeleton transformed into a green beam, shooting into the magic circle with a whoosh.
The flames within the magic circle had been gradually subsiding, condensing into a translucent medium that filled the three-dimensional array like glassy water. Yet the moment this green streak surged in, the mysterious substance within the magic circle erupted violently. It bubbled and churned like molten lava from a volcanic eruption, roaring and churning with a gurgling roar.