I Want To Be Low-Key, But My Strength Doesn't Allow It

As they walked, Old Narton instructed his disciple, "When we return and see His Majesty, just report truthfully. Don't say anything extra."

"Why?" Sanders asked, confused.

He looked around, his eyes filled with knight-themed items.

On the wide avenue, spacious enough for eight carriages to pass each other, there was a knight statue astride a mount every ten meters. These lifelike statues depicted knights slaying demons, battling savage foreign tribes, or striking heroic poses with swords raised high or lances at the ready.

Even ordinary people would feel a surge of excitement and a sense of awe upon seeing these statues.

Besides the statues, the most common shops lining the street were weapon shops, armor shops, and tack shops, followed by various knight training academies.

Looking further into the distance, one could see that the wide avenue was truly flanked by knightly arenas of all sizes.

Old Narton sighed, "The current Barbarossa is a pure knightly nation."

Knights are revered! Knights are paramount!

All other professions take a backseat.

In the entire Barbarossa Empire, those involved in knight-related professions accounted for at least eighty percent.

Even infantrymen were either mounted infantry or knight escorts, archers were knight archers, and below knights were just common militia.

This gave a rather top-heavy impression.

It couldn't be helped. A hundred years ago, when magic vanished, it was the knights who defended the empire's borders with their own flesh and blood, and naturally, they became the mainstream of the empire.

When his Master said this, Sanders was somewhat speechless.

In fact, when they arrived at the imperial palace and went through the layers of reporting, they were granted an audience with the emperor in less than an hour.

However, the grandeur of the occasion made the two of them a bit nervous.

The emperor received them in the main hall, with the commanders of three knightly orders and the patriarch of the Church of Light standing by his side.

"Black Shadow, Dark Guard, my two loyal subjects, speak of what you have seen and heard before these esteemed individuals." Emperor Barbarossa XIII, in his sixties, looked frail. His long white hair was covered by his crown, otherwise, his receding hairline would have been quite noticeable. The wrinkles on his face and the crow's feet at the corners of his eyes seemed to tell tales of his and the empire's hardships.

Sanders felt the piercing gazes of the important figures, even the coldness of his white dragon leather armor couldn't offset the heat of their stares. At that moment, he even felt, in a daze, that the heroic spirits represented by the three-meter-tall knight statues surrounding the hall had transcended time and space to cast their gazes upon them.

Old Narton spoke first, "My judgment is—that was indeed a living Legendary Archmage!"

A low murmur rippled through the hall.

"Please continue your statement, Lord Black Shadow." The Grand Chamberlain waved his hand, temporarily quelling the stir among the commanders.

Narton recounted how he followed the route provided by King Cervantes to infiltrate the Dragon's Lair mountain range, then found the valley, discovered the white dragon corpse at the valley entrance struck dead by lightning, was discovered by a fire bat after entering the valley, which displeased the Archmage Lein, and finally how he assisted in retrieving the white dragon's treasure and helped build the mage tower.

He had not concealed anything throughout the entire process.

"A Legendary Archmage with a Legendary Neutral Evil fire bat familiar?"

"Don't forget, his disciple rode a Wind-Riding Steed."

The commanders immediately began to argue.

Seemingly realizing the futility of their debate, the emperor waved his hand, and silence fell upon the hall once more.

"Regardless, thank you for your hard work, my loyal Black Shadow." The emperor gestured, and a servant stepped forward with a small box.

The servant opened the box, and Old Narton glanced inside.

The emperor's reward was quite generous: a land deed for a small manor on the outskirts of the capital.

Honestly, the location was decent. As compensation for a Legendary Shadow Dancer risking his life to probe a potential Legendary Archmage, the reward was acceptable.

However, compared to that person who casually gifted white dragon leather, the emperor seemed a bit stingy.

Truly, the emperor was busy with state affairs; who knew if his disciple and he could have obtained a set of white dragon leather armor!

And so, the master and disciple were dismissed.

"Master, will they invite Lord Tesla to the imperial capital?"

Old Narton shook his head, "No! This is a knightly nation."

Sanders froze for a moment, then gave a bitter smile.

This was a sentiment every citizen of Barbarossa deeply understood.

The nation, protected by the blood and sacrifice of their knightly predecessors, would not easily relinquish it. Perhaps, in the emperor's eyes, maintaining the balance was the most ideal scenario. But how could such a vast country change?

It would require a catalyst, a truly monumental catalyst.

Of all this, Lein was unaware and had no energy to concern himself with it.

Not long after seeing off Old Narton and his disciple, Lein received a system notification.

[Congratulations to the host, your strength has been recognized by the Legendary Shadow Dancer Narton * Black Shadow. Your notoriety in the entire human world has increased by +1.]

Seeing this notification, Lein blinked.

He read it again carefully, understanding that this was essentially an official endorsement. The news that had spread from the Kingdom of Cervantes had now received certification from the Empire of Barbarossa.

If Old Narton's parting words were correct, then it was highly unlikely that any more insignificant individuals would bother him from now on.

Either they wouldn't come at all, or if they did, they would come to invite him to become the Imperial Archmage of a nation.

"Master, if you really don't want to be some Royal Archmage, you can just refuse directly! Have a king pass on the message," Downs suggested.

No, actually I want to! Easy work, good money, slacking off, and being worshipped daily.

But as your master, I'm afraid of being exposed!

What Lein wanted to say turned into: "I have no interest in worldly power. I just want to complete my research discreetly."

"I know you want to keep a low profile, Master, but your strength won't allow it!"

Is it the innocence of children? No, this is the innocence of youth!

Downs, after picking up a certain habit from a transmigrator who occasionally let slip some quirks, spoke like this, and someone genuinely enjoyed hearing it.

No matter how much he enjoyed it, Lein couldn't show it. He put on his master's air: "Hmph! I have my own plans. As for you, once you advance to a high-level mage, don't you dare stay with me. Reading ten thousand books is not as good as traveling ten thousand miles. The rise of every legendary figure is unique. You'll get out of here immediately after you reach high-level."

"Yes..." Downs's voice instantly lowered.

Lein continued his lecture: "The so-called [Law of Conservation of Mass] states that in physical changes, regardless of how the shape, state, or position of an object changes, its mass remains constant..."

As if struck by inspiration, Downs took out a small dagger. In front of Lein, a large number of black dots flew out of the soil and gathered on the dagger. In just a few breaths, the dagger had transformed into something resembling a long sword.

Looking at the system prompt, Lein knew his disciple had once again independently comprehended a magic. He said coldly: "You attached the metal from the soil to the dagger. This is a process of mass increase. It does not violate the Law of Conservation of Mass."

"Master, I was thinking, what if I removed the 'mass' from this metal sword at this moment?" As he spoke, Downs gestured with his hand, and the long sword, which looked crooked and even a bit rusty, moved from its original spot. However, the sword moved, but what was that remaining at the original spot?

Lein looked at the system prompt with immense frustration: [Congratulations to the host. After your disciple successfully cast Level 3 Evocation Magic (Dance of Steel), he successfully cast Level 3 Illusion Magic (Greater Illusion)!]

What the heck!

This works too?

First, create an item, then with the power of 'I reckon', remove the 'mass' from it, and the remaining image is an illusion?

Downs, are you sure the 'mass' you're talking about is the same as the mass I'm talking about?

Physics... no longer exists!