Murder

The alarm clock rang out in a series of sharp chimes at five in the morning, loud enough to wake the sleeping doves, which grumpily flapped their plump wings in protest.

Du Pont glanced at the wake-up service he had set for himself, climbed out of bed, and gulped down a mouthful of water with a strained expression.

Today, he was going to try killing a large animal. It was both to steel his nerves and to earn Experience Points. He could not let laziness get in the way.

You have 28 days left until your debt is due.

Your physical condition has recovered somewhat. The Constitution penalty caused by malnutrition has changed from -3 to -2.

After washing up, Du Pont took advantage of the morning air to Scribe Scrolls again.

After returning from the dining hall yesterday, he had copied another two scrolls, spending 20 Experience Points and bringing his total down to 434. After deducting meal expenses, his assets stood at 1 gold, 4 silver, and 70 copper, along with 8 first-circle scrolls and 3 blank parchments. He could also collect another 10 today.

Though it was still a drop in the bucket compared to 1,000 gold coins, his wealth had grown considerably since the day he first arrived. At least life seemed promising now.

However, perhaps he had risen too abruptly, or perhaps his mind had been elsewhere. A moment of distraction gave the arcane energy, which his mental power had forced together, an opening. It scattered away with unusual liveliness, and a section of the Elvish script whose ink had already dried suddenly vanished from the scroll, making Du Pont's heart sink.

Damn. This scroll was ruined.

Although the magic within it had not yet completely dissipated, once the incantation was damaged, there was no remedying it. Fresh ink would not enter the magical circuit that had already formed. This scroll had no value left to save.

A scroll worth 1,000 copper had just become toilet paper.

It left Du Pont feeling miserable. He had to count every copper coin he spent now, and this was no small loss to him.

He had to hold magic in reverence.

Du Pont silently repeated those words to himself.

He hung the ruined scroll in front of the window. Seeing that he still had plenty of time, Du Pont washed his face and tried again.

This time, his mind was completely focused. It took him twenty-six minutes.

The improvement was obvious, but Du Pont still wrote a few words on that discarded parchment and hung it from a nail in the window frame.

Stay cautious. Stay calm at all times.

After putting away the scrolls, Du Pont picked up his cane and headed for the dining hall. The Mage Academy was especially quiet after the holiday began. Only his footsteps echoed through the corridors, the faint reverberations making it seem as though this extravagantly built academy belonged to him alone.

Unfortunately, that was just an illusion. Du Pont smiled mockingly at himself.

When he reached the dining hall, the human cooks in the kitchen were already busy. Still, they were somewhat surprised to see an apprentice heading toward the back kitchen.

Although fewer people would be eating today, ensuring there was enough food remained their top priority. Even if there was extra, there could not be too little, or they would be punished.

As for waste, the academy was rich. What the hell did it have to do with them?

Judy looked Du Pont over carefully. "You actually got up. You mages usually love sleeping in. I thought you wouldn't come."

"As long as I promise someone something, I will naturally do everything I can to accomplish it." Du Pont nodded to the kitchen helpers, startling them into hurriedly returning the gesture before keeping their distance from him.

Though they were also cooks, they were all temporary workers—nearby villagers who helped Judy and learned cooking from him. Whether teachers or apprentices, they saw them as noble mage lords, people they absolutely could not afford to offend.

Du Pont was somewhat surprised by their constrained behavior, but he quickly understood it.

This world had been unequal from birth. The gap between Classed individuals and commoners might not have been as vast as the gap between mutants and ordinary people in X-Men, but powerful adventurers seemed capable of anything in the eyes of ordinary people.

At the lesser end, they could hunt tigers and slaughter bears alone, or wipe out Gnoll tribes that plagued an area. At the greater end, they could slay dragons, destroy nations, cut down massive mountains and turn them upside down to create floating cities, or pilot magical ships away from Toril to conquer other worlds.

Of course, people capable of the latter were nearly mythical figures from a distant age. There were not many floating cities drifting through the skies of Faerûn anymore. But adventurers who could help ordinary people quell all manner of disasters truly did live in their world.

They provided people with security, and adventurers were generally not stingy with gold, buying the crops they grew and the services they provided. Yet for every helpful adventurer, there was another who acted with reckless abandon. They robbed, murdered, and committed every imaginable evil. If they were in a bad mood, there was no telling how terrible their actions might become.

Although this world had no internet, it still had newspapers and bulletin boards. Over time, ordinary people naturally came to regard adventurers with respect and fear. They were people from two different worlds.

Among them, mages were the most unusual of all.

Haluar was Faerûn's most powerful Mage Country. Most of its followers worshipped Mystra and belonged to neutral alignments. Public order was good, magic was advanced, and many ordinary people knew minor spells and cantrips. It was one of Faerûn's strongest powers and had maintained centuries of peace through its strength.

But being neutral did not mean they would not do evil. Though the council's restrictions meant they might not dare deliberately kill people for experiments, mages could still become exceptionally mad in pursuit of experimental results. Even destroying the local ecosystem with spells during ordinary adventures was common enough.

Although most Haluar people had grown accustomed to such things, accepting them did not mean understanding them. To their eyes, mages—people who could kill at any moment even with empty hands—were far more dangerous than wolves.

Lost in thought, Du Pont had already reached the slaughterhouse. He turned back to look at the Gothic Mage Academy, and a sense of awe rose within him.

There was a vast chasm between ordinary people and Classed individuals. How great was the gap between a little apprentice like him and truly powerful people?

It was probably even greater than the difference between humans and dogs.

He had no choice but to push himself.

With that thought, Du Pont's expression cooled. Soon, he saw the two animals prepared for slaughter today.

One was a huge pig, bound up and weighing at least three hundred jin. The other was a small calf, tethered to a stone pillar and struggling constantly.

Although he had already prepared himself for bloodshed, Du Pont still felt reluctant when he saw the calf. He asked the halfling beside him, "This calf can't be more than a few months old, right? How much meat could it have after the bones are removed? Was it sent here by mistake?"

"It wasn't a mistake. Lavoisier is picky about food, and today he wants calf thymus." Judy looked at the calf with some regret as well. He reached out to stroke its forehead, soothing the frightened little creature. It was a fine, healthy calf, and its price had not been much lower than that of a full-grown cow. "Cattle lose their thymus once they grow up. Only calves have it. Don't think too much about it. We paid enough, and the farmers didn't say anything. Just kill it."

Du Pont did not know who Lavoisier was. After several seconds of silence, he turned toward the sturdy Butcher nearby, a nearly two-meter-tall man sitting atop the pigpen and drinking, his upper body bare. "Excuse me, how can I kill them cleanly and efficiently?"

"Why are you talking like such a pussy? You're the one who wants to learn slaughtering?" The Butcher drained the remaining liquor from his bottle and let out a loud belch. His uninhibited, rugged body and unique bearing gave Du Pont an answer as to his identity.

He was not an ordinary Butcher, but a Barbarian with class levels.

And his level was not low. Just standing before him, Du Pont could feel a trace of pressure.

His sixth sense warned him that this man was extremely dangerous.

"Yes." Du Pont nodded, without the slightest fear in his eyes. "I want to end their suffering as quickly as possible. How should I do it?"

"Seems you've got a decent heart." The Butcher muttered, then drew a sharp dagger about thirty centimeters long from his waist with his left hand and placed it beside him. "This is the pig-killing knife I've used for years. The pig is already tied up. You can stab it through the middle of the throat, and it'll stop breathing soon enough. Or stab diagonally behind its left elbow. That's where its heart is. That way, it'll die faster and suffer less."

After speaking, the Butcher walked over to the calf and took a small iron hammer from his belt. "As for the cow, it's too big. You're built well enough, but piercing its heart will probably still be difficult for you. The mage lords here don't like cow brains because they think they smell gamey. Hold your breath and strike its forehead with all your strength. One blow will be enough."

Du Pont nodded, took the hammer, and stepped forward. The calf seemed to understand its fate. Fear flashed through its eyes, and its legs could no longer support its body as it desperately tried to break free.

Du Pont shook his head, while Judy walked aside and turned his back. Looking into the calf's terrified eyes, Du Pont thought for a second before swiftly chanting an incantation. His robe gave off a dazzling glow.

Light Spell.

A sudden flash of brilliant light appeared before it. The calf reflexively closed its eyes, and Du Pont brought the hammer down.

With a bang, Du Pont's right arm ached slightly. The calf lost all its strength and collapsed to the ground, never opening its eyes again.

As though it sensed something, the fat pig, which had secretly been watching the whole time, let out a horrifying squeal and struggled desperately.

Seeing the notification that he had gained 10 Experience Points brought Du Pont no joy. He looked at the calf, now lying silently still, then at the unconcerned Barbarian, and quietly asked a question that made the other farmers shudder.

"Does killing a person require this much force?"