Chapter 22

The Orc Wolf Rider Band, having brought this trouble upon themselves, left behind two piles of environmentally hazardous refuse, from which the clever young mage Palin salvaged several items of considerable value.

Two tattered warlock robes, which required mending. Once repaired, they should enhance the wearer's affinity for fire-based power, suggesting that the two orc warlocks were likely fire specialists.

Two broken extended-range magic wands, of little value for repair, though the two magic crystals serving as their cores remained intact and were quite valuable—in fact, the primary worth of an extended-range wand lies in its core crystal, as the wand itself is merely a simple wood carving, not difficult to produce.

A complete space bag containing a fair amount of wealth, taken from the second slain orc warlock. This fellow was likely the leader of the three warlocks and a minor chieftain within this bandit gang. Beyond a hundred or so gold coins, his private stash included several precious gemstones. By estimation, the total might be worth around two thousand gold coins. As for the space bag, while not a high-end model capable of reducing weight, it was still worth five or six hundred gold coins.

As for the rest, it was merely worthless clutter. Palin did his best to sort through the spellcasting materials the two warlocks had carried, but could only scrape together items worth less than two gold coins.

"Stop fussing, it's already dark!" Seeing Palin holding a torch and laboriously searching through that pile of disgusting, putrid flesh for anything of value, Gerald could no longer watch and called out loudly, "If you don't get some rest, you won't have any energy tomorrow!"

Palin respected him greatly, so he gave a quick response and returned, looking somewhat dejected.

"Logically, since they were fire specialists, they should have at least carried amulets made of red crystal—but I couldn't find any." He said, blaming himself, "My magical knowledge is still lacking; otherwise, I surely would have been able to identify them!"

"Forget it, forget it. How old are you? To have found this much already is quite impressive!" Gerald said with a smile, handing over a magic crystal and the two warlock robes, "Take these. Once you modify the robes, you can wear them, and you can use the magic crystal to craft a wand for yourself. No sense in wasting them."

"...These are your spoils of war; I cannot take them!" Palin was stunned, instinctively refusing.

Gerald shrugged and said with a chuckle, "Then consider it an investment in a future great mage. Once you become strong, you can naturally repay me."

Palin hesitated for a moment before accepting the gift.

In truth, he understood that with the absurdly powerful strength of "Brother White," even if he were to grow into a high-level mage in the future, he likely wouldn't be able to offer him much help. Perhaps only by breaking through the limits of mortals and stepping into the legendary realm of eternal life could he truly be of assistance.

"Brother White, there is a question I don't know if I should ask..." Old Soth approached, looking quite hesitant.

"If you have a question, just ask. I will certainly answer what I can."

Having received Gerald's affirmative reply, Old Soth still hesitated for a moment, glanced left and right, and lowered his voice to ask, "Have you truly already stepped into the 'Legendary Realm'?"

Gerald froze for a moment, instinctively wanting to shake his head. Yet, he dared not be certain if that answer was correct, and he could not help but fall into deep contemplation.

What is a legend?

According to Gerald's impression, a legend is a super-powered individual who has broken through the limits of mortals, is no longer bound by birth, aging, illness, or death, and possesses near-eternal life and unimaginable power. They are strong enough to decide the future of a nation single-handedly, or even stand upon the world's chessboard and influence the rise and fall of all races.

So, does he count as such a powerhouse?

No longer aging, no need to worry about lifespan—on this point, he was likely fine. In fact, he had already died; his current body was merely a creation of His Majesty Oscar. Even if this body were to age or be damaged, His Majesty surely had the ability to repair or even recreate it. In this sense, he had indeed transcended aging and death.

Powerful strength—he had that, too. At first, he hadn't noticed, but as the number of battles he experienced increased, he gradually realized the might of this body. He could run faster than a galloping horse, possessed strength greater than a bear or tiger, his flesh and blood were as sturdy as armor, and he could even withstand powerful spells with only negligible surface wounds... If this didn't count as powerful, then what did?

In that case, was he already a legendary powerhouse?

He spread his hands, looking at his thick, solid palms, and a sense of unreal absurdity rose in his heart.

A few days ago, he was still a wanted fugitive, living a miserable life in a desolate village outside the civilized world, ostracized by the village's de facto ruler, his life dull, tasteless, and somewhat destitute.

A few days later, he had been transformed, gained powerful strength he previously couldn't even imagine, and had even become perhaps the first believer under a great deity. His future was foreseeable, vast, and his prosperity beyond words.

All of this, at its core, stemmed from the grace of His Majesty Oscar.

Having figured it all out, the giant let out a long breath and smiled. He smiled with composure and comfort, calm and warm.

"I do not know if I count as what you call a 'legend'." He replied in the same low voice, "However, I believe I have found the correct path. As long as I keep walking, the legendary realm is not out of reach."

Old Soth and Palin both noticed his change; at this moment, his aura was deep and steady, like a towering mountain, eternal and unchanging. This presence was something he had never displayed before, and it was truly convincing.

Perhaps he was not a "legend," but there was no doubt that at this moment, he had truly stepped into the world of the strong and had grown in spirit.

With his astonishing talent and ability, after taking this step, becoming a legendary powerhouse was merely a matter of time.

When sleeping that night, the well-traveled Old Soth recalled the giant's calm and composed expression and couldn't help but smile.

He had witnessed the key step in the "birth" of a legendary powerhouse; this was a glory worth boasting about to his descendants and recording in his family's annals. Being able to build a connection with such a kind legendary powerhouse would surely be of great benefit to his family!

But as he smiled, he sighed softly.

How envious he was! If only he could also become a legendary powerhouse, how wonderful that would be...

As for young Palin, he didn't think so much. He simply smiled, silently encouraging himself to work harder, to become an excellent mage as soon as possible, and eventually reach the height where Brother White stood.

The fire of ideals in the young man's heart had been ignited, destined to burn fiercely in the days to come, becoming the driving force that pushed him ever forward. Regardless of whether he could reach that height in the future, when he looked back on his life at its end, he would smile happily at the emotion and determination of this moment.

While Old Soth and Palin smiled, "Bloodhand" Luer paced back and forth like a beast trapped in a cage, restless and uneasy.

He was no fool without experience; he certainly saw Gerald's prowess. Offending such a powerhouse left him deeply worried. Yet, thinking of the legendary treasure on that powerhouse, his heart was filled with greed.

A massive crisis and a massive benefit were both before him—what path should he take?

"Old Burke, what do you think we should do?" He asked the bandit group's second-in-command, the shaman who served as his strategist.

The old shaman, the eldest and most experienced in the entire bandit group, shook his head. As silent and reticent as ever, he offered no valuable advice.

This did not exceed Luer's expectations. He paced around the temporary camp, one moment wanting to retreat, the next wanting to take the risk regardless, caught in a dilemma.

"Those damn pickpockets! I knew they didn't have good intentions when they brought me this news!"

He complained and seethed, distressed by the predicament that left him unable to advance or retreat.

Losing two warlocks, including the leader of his spellcasters, was a massive blow to the bandit group. If he just let it go, he would be truly unwilling. Moreover, it was a heavy blow to the morale of the entire group and would severely damage his prestige.

However, wanting to try again to seize the giant's treasure... the mere thought of the giant's god-like strength made his heart tremble, making it difficult to summon the resolve for a fight to the death.

"If I truly ordered them to fight that big guy to the death, the boys would probably just scatter and run for their lives..."

He sighed deeply, found a tree stump to sit on, rubbed his forehead with his fingers, and pondered intensely.

Giving up was highly inappropriate, yet a direct confrontation was impossible. How could he manage to secure some benefits?

He spent the entire night pondering this.

"Bloody Hand" Luer had always prided himself on his ruthlessness and sharp wit. He had never thought much of those who relied on clever schemes to navigate the world, but at this moment, he couldn't help but loathe himself for not being clever enough to come up with a win-win solution.

He thought and thought, and only when the sun rose did he realize he hadn't slept a wink all night.

Dizzy and lightheaded from overexertion, the bandit leader stood up shakily, intending to wash his face in a nearby stream to refresh himself. Just then, the scout responsible for monitoring the merchant group's movements returned.

"Boss, that group has set off again. It looks like they're heading toward Gold Rush Town."

"Good. We'll follow from a distance, but don't get too close. Wait for an opportunity," Luer ordered casually.

This command made his subordinates feel less tense and helped dissipate some of the heavy atmosphere in the camp.

But as the bandit troop passed by the village where the merchant group had camped the day before, a flash of inspiration suddenly struck Luer, and he thought of a plan.

The feasibility of this plan wasn't very high, but there was no harm in trying. If it succeeded, he might just hit the jackpot!

He called over one of his men and whispered some instructions. The subordinate's green face turned pale instantly, and he shook his head so violently it looked like it might fall off.

"It's just delivering a letter, what are you afraid of!"

Yet the subordinate continued to shake his head, terrified out of his wits.

After some threats and inducements, the subordinate accepted the order with a bitter face, mounted his worg, and with the expression of someone heading to their own execution, rode off after the merchant group.

"Alright, we stop here," Luer shouted to his men. "No need to follow. If things go smoothly, that big guy will come back on his own."

The subordinates immediately fell into a panic, their faces etched with anxiety, which made Luer's temper flare. He felt like butchering every one of these spineless idiots right then and there!

A while later, the subordinate who had gone to deliver the letter returned, and not far behind his mount, the giant approached step by step, unhurried and radiating an invisible pressure.

"Big guy!" Luer shouted. "I want to talk business with you!"