A crescent-shaped fiery arc then created a swirling, pale red high-temperature airflow in the yellow sand, trailing white smoke. The crescent-shaped fiery arc caused sand and gravel to scatter in all directions, which was enough to prove its considerable destructive power.
"Hmm, not bad. Congratulations, Miss Styraatu, you have already become a qualified Mage. It won't be long before you can participate in the ceremony and receive the baptism from the starry sky under the Sun Disc, ascending to become a respected Ascended," the tall, thin man nodded with satisfaction, praising her.
"Does that mean I can go to the front lines and fight alongside General Aatrox?" The girl's originally clear and cold voice finally wavered as she asked nervously.
"Yes."
The tall, thin man affirmed, "Shurima will be proud of you!"
The image froze at this moment.
Crack!
With a shattering sound, the entire image completely split open like a broken glass mirror, then turned into nothingness.
...
Durin forgot how he fell asleep. He slept exceptionally soundly this time. When he opened his eyes again, the wall clock was ringing incessantly, and the sky outside the window had completely brightened.
7:00 AM, morning.
Get up, get to work.
Durin once thought he wouldn't dream of Stellatou the Darkin's memories again, because so much time had passed, but who would have thought he dreamt of them again last night.
The scenes from that memory were a bit blurry for Durin, the only clear image remaining in his mind was the girl casting a standard fire element composite rune.
He quickly picked up his pen and rapidly sketched the composite rune from his memory onto his notebook. He had a premonition that he might be able to master two spells at once.
One for defense, one for offense.
However, this composite rune was somewhat intricate, geometrically more difficult than the Mage Armor spell, but he still patiently traced it out bit by bit.
It was around 10:00 AM when Durin finally finished, having spent a full three hours to ensure no detail was missed.
After completing all of this, Durin put on his Mage Robe, confirmed he had everything, and then headed out.
Today, he planned to check other street taverns for suitable tasks and familiarize himself with other districts of Piltover, the City of Progress.
Along the way, Durin walked and stopped, occasionally entering a tavern to check the bulletin board, and if there was nothing, he would walk out and continue his search.
But soon, Durin discovered that the further south one went in Piltover, the lower the land prices, commodity prices, and wages became, and the reduction ratio was extremely mismatched—in areas near Zaun, the work remuneration was even less than one-fifth of that in the central area, yet commodity prices and land prices were still one-third of the central area!
For the same job as a waiter, one could earn around 5 silver lun coins per month in the Harbor District; however, in the districts in the southern part of the city near Zaun, one couldn't even earn two.
Moreover, Durin would often hear these locals proudly boast about Piltover.
"We have no nobles, and commoners don't need to become fuel for the empire like the Noxians. Here, everyone is equal before the gold cogwheel!"
That's right, in Piltover, the gold cogwheel was everything!
Even political power was influenced by money—in Piltover's newspapers, someone was using very direct language to solicit sponsorships from major businesses, hoping to raise enough political donations to join the lower house of the council and completely achieve class transcendence.
And upon his success, he would give investors "equivalent returns" and similar promises.
Everything seemed incredibly beautiful, everything seemed just as these Piltoverians said, that everyone was equal before the gold cogwheel.
Until Durin wandered to Mobil Street in the Brittany District in the eastern part of the city. This street didn't appear as prosperous as other streets; what Durin perceived more was desolation and decay.
The only opulent building was a church, but thankfully, the overall street was still clean and tidy, with two rows of well-maintained streetlights emitting bright light.
Its geographical location was remote, with a cemetery on the nearby hills, which was the Piltover Public Cemetery, where many commoners buried their remains.
Of course, those small and medium-sized families and Enforcers who died in the line of duty for the Piltover Guard were not buried here; they had their own exclusive cemeteries.
Durin arrived in front of a tavern, looking up he clearly saw the words carved with difficulty by a knife on the plaque above, in crooked Noxian script:
[Pink Mary Tavern]
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