Tower Exile

"This was exactly what confused me."

Bronson's gaze was once again firmly drawn to the red crystal in Roland's hand.

After a moment, he forced himself to look away, brow furrowed tightly as he paced back and forth across the somewhat cramped room. The soles of his shoes rubbed against the wooden floor, producing a faint creaking sound.

After a long while, his footsteps suddenly stopped, as if he had remembered something important. He slowly began to speak.

"I once read something in an ancient text about this world. The specific details are a little hazy now, but the general idea was..."

Bronson raised his head and looked out the window. As the bright moonlight fell across his face, his voice grew low and hoarse.

"Everything in this world follows the law of reincarnation."

"Just like flowers blooming in spring and withering in autumn, eventually turning into decay that nourishes the soil; streams rushing down from mountaintops into the sea, then rising into clouds beneath the blazing sun, repeating the cycle endlessly; stars being born, shining, and fading away in the vast night sky, their dust giving birth to new light."

At this point, he instinctively folded one arm across his chest and raised the fingers of his other hand to his chin.

After pondering for a long while, he said in a somewhat uncertain tone,

"So I was thinking that perhaps magical essence follows the same cycle."

"You mean..."

Roland looked at the red crystal flickering with a faint glow in his hand and tentatively summarized,

"Magical essence is slowly reviving across this continent?"

"That's only my deduction, but..."

As he spoke, Bronson's brow furrowed even more deeply. He raised a finger toward the red crystal in Roland's hand.

"I would rather this were a coincidence, because as far as I know, this continent was not as barren and silent as it is now several hundred years ago."

His gaze grew deep as his fingertips gently rubbed the tabletop, as if touching a dust-covered memory.

"Back then, magical essence flowed naturally through the air, like breathing."

"The trees in the forests could grow hundreds of meters tall, their branches and leaves shimmering with a faint light. The water in the streams was not merely water, but liquid magical essence containing the power of life. A single sip could heal wounds. Even the most ordinary stones might develop a spirit over the course of many years and become living stones..."

"Wizards were not as rare and mysterious as they are now, either. They traveled between cities and wildernesses, using magic to build bridges, cure diseases, and even alter the weather."

"Ordinary people could also borrow the magical essence in nature through simple rituals to accomplish minor tasks, such as lighting a stove or accelerating the ripening of crops. It was an age when humans and magic coexisted."

Roland listened, fascinated. The red crystal in his hand seemed to respond to the description, growing faintly hot.

"But later..."

Bronson's voice suddenly grew heavy.

"Magical essence began to decline. No one knew the exact reason, but according to the ancient texts, when magical essence began to dry up, the people of that age called it the Year of the End, because they knew that a glorious era was about to come to an end."

"The wizards discovered that casting spells was becoming more and more difficult. The light in the forests gradually dimmed as well, and the creatures that relied on magical essence either went extinct or degenerated into the forms they have today."

He gave a bitter laugh and pointed toward the pitch-black night sky outside the window.

"Look. The night sky now contains only the light of the stars themselves. But according to the records, hundreds of years ago, magical auroras flowed across the heavens at night, like gauze and mist, dazzling beyond compare."

He paused, and a complex emotion blending yearning and worry flashed through his eyes.

"But that era was also filled with danger."

"The magical beasts born from magical essence were far beyond anything seen today. They were enormous, cunning, and savage. Some even possessed intelligence no inferior to that of humans."

"Humans, elves, and dwarves. The various races had no choice but to unite before they could barely drive them into the dark corners of the world."

Roland lowered his head and stared at the crystal, murmuring,

"So... if magical essence really is reviving..."

"If magical essence revives, then even if the magical beasts have degenerated into their current frail forms, they will adapt more quickly than we do. The other races will need time to regain control of magic, but magical beasts... only need instinct."

At this point, Bronson's mouth had gone somewhat dry, and his tone grew more urgent.

"And the dwarves, elves, and beastmen. These races grew weaker after the Year of the End and had no choice but to lie low."

"But if magical essence really is beginning to revive, will they truly be willing to let humans continue ruling this continent?"

Roland tightened his grip around the red crystal, his knuckles turning faintly white.

"So the revival of magical essence doesn't merely mean the return of magic."

"It means the return of war as well."

Bronson slowly shook his head.

"The Year of the End brought the previous era to an end. And now... we may be standing at the beginning of another."

After his words fell, the room sank into silence.

Seeing Roland's tightly furrowed brow, Bronson finally came back to himself from his vivid description.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, and the passionate fervor he had shown moments ago vanished without a trace.

"Roland, you really don't need to worry too much..."

Bronson returned to his usual timid appearance, his fingers unconsciously twisting the hem of his clothes.

"Everything I said just now... was merely recorded in ancient texts. If... I mean, if..."

He stammered, his eyes darting about as if searching for the right words.

After a brief silence, he suddenly raised his head, a spark of insight flashing in his eyes.

"If you know enough, you'll discover that history is something..."

Bronson slowly straightened his formerly hunched back, his voice gradually becoming firm.

"Like a blank sheet of parchment, left for future generations to write upon as they please. Besides..."

He paused, his tone growing steadier.

"Even if magical essence really has begun to revive, it will take at least several hundred years to return to the prosperity it enjoyed before the Year of the End."

"By then, you and I will have long since turned to dust. There's no need to worry about what might happen then."

"I understand what you mean, Mister Bronson."

Roland nodded lightly.

There was no denying that the scene of the Year of the End Bronson had described had given him a powerful shock.

But after calming down, those horrifying scenes instead seemed somewhat unreal.

Roland lowered his head and looked at his worn sleeve cuff, then gazed out at the muddy estate path.

Life here was almost indistinguishable from medieval Europe.

If he had not personally seen the rumored kobolds, he might even have thought this was a world without the slightest trace of magic.

As for the Year of the End Bronson had described...

It was practically an age from mythology.

Elemental tides had swept across the continent, and magic had been as commonplace as breathing.

Compared with this impoverished backwater where even lighting depended on oil lamps, it was practically an entirely different world.

Roland took a deep breath and temporarily pressed Bronson's words to the back of his mind.

He steadied his emotions, then suddenly raised his head as if remembering something. A meaningful curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"Mister Bronson, what you said just now..."

He deliberately drew out his tone and took a step forward.

"I'm afraid even those high-and-mighty noble lords may not know these things. So..."

"Who exactly are you?"

"Uh..."

Looking at Roland's increasingly robust figure, Bronson involuntarily retreated two steps, his expression turning somewhat strange.

The scene felt oddly familiar.

It was just like that day in the dining hall, when he had asked Roland where he had learned the term Silver Dust.

Is this little fellow doing it on purpose, or is it unintentional?

Thinking of Roland's embarrassed appearance that day, Bronson muttered a few words under his breath before simply sitting back down and spreading his hands.

"All right, Roland. Since things have come this far, and you've already agreed to become my assistant, I won't hide it from you."

His expression suddenly became melancholy.

"I came from the tower, the place where wizards are said to live. But because I was never able to master a meditation technique, I was expelled..."

"And if you still want to ask about the tower... I'm sorry."

Bronson gave a bitter smile and tapped his temple with a finger.

"I have a restriction placed here. It's like the curse described in popular novels. The moment I have any intention of revealing the tower's internal secrets, I'll die on the spot."

"To be honest, even my own recent memories have started to become blurred. Everything about the tower is slowly disappearing from my mind..."

Hearing this answer, Roland was not particularly surprised.

After spending this much time together and listening to their conversation just now, he had already more or less guessed Bronson's identity.

Even if he was not a wizard, he was certainly closely connected to them.

Seeing how calm Roland remained, Bronson seemed somewhat unwilling to have his embarrassing secret exposed. He quickly came back to himself and asked in return,

"What about you, Roland? Who exactly are you?"

"Me?"

Roland smiled faintly.

"Just an ordinary person with a bit of talent for blacksmithing, that's all..."

In the end, Bronson still failed to get the answer he wanted from Roland.

After all, Roland could not possibly tell him about the Profession Panel.

But as Bronson himself had said, he was not someone who liked digging into matters relentlessly.

Seeing that Roland was unwilling to say more, he did not continue asking. Instead, he turned to discuss the specific schedule for Roland to serve as his assistant.

As he walked along the silent estate path, the smile gradually faded from Roland's face. The scenes Bronson had described kept surfacing in his mind, along with the recent disturbances caused by magical beasts in the Black Fir Forest and Dawn Territory. A sense of urgency rose in his heart once more.

"I have to improve my strength as quickly as possible!"

With that thought, Roland quickened his pace and returned to the dormitory.

After washing up briefly, he lay down and quickly fell asleep.

He had neither wasted any time nor tossed and turned sleeplessly because of Bronson's words.

After all, tomorrow was the day of the Blacksmith Apprentice examination.

Thanks to Yijian Tengkong for the fifteen monthly tickets!

Thanks to Jimao Lingpai for the five hundred starting-point coins as a reward!

Thanks to my two adoptive fathers for your support. May everything go smoothly for you throughout the four seasons, and may all your wishes come true!

P.S. Please follow the book! Please add it to your collection! Xiao Lu is here to thank all my adoptive fathers!