Sewage

As a transmigrator, Lister honestly believed he was above average. As a noble in a fantasy novel, his elven bloodline had, as expected, granted him a unique talent. He knew he would eventually come into contact with magic and become a mage, but he also understood that learning magic was far from easy. To gain the corresponding power, one had to pay an equal, or even greater, price.

This was learning, too. As an adult before his transmigration—a twenty-four-year-old adult—Lister knew very well that only by investing vast amounts of time and energy and focusing wholeheartedly on a single subject could one earn high marks. If one merely aimed to pass, there was a high chance of failing instead. Only by giving it everything could one win.

He idly fiddled with the slingshot in his hand while Octas watched with narrowed eyes. It was a slingshot made from the simplest forked branch and ox sinew. It looked like a child's toy, but paired with sharp eyes and nimble hands, it was a disaster for field mice.

It was a simple pastime, but on a deeper level, it was introductory training in archery. Fleck understood the elves' strengths well: exceptional eyesight and agile bodies. Every wood elf in Silver Crown Forest was a deadshot archer. With sturdy builds, keen eyes, and the wealth of experience gained through long training, even without the aid of magic and using only ordinary bows and arrows, they could hit a mouse a thousand meters away with the naked eye.

Fleck's idea was simple. If Lister lacked magical talent, then he would train his archery. Lister did not disappoint him. He truly possessed astonishing talent with ranged weapons; at the very least, he never missed when shooting field mice with a slingshot.

To nobles, rats were utterly unfit for the table. But to the poor, rat meat was already considered decent food. In many places, poor people did not merely lack meat—they could not even find grain. Lister had experienced the pain of having nothing to eat, so there was nothing shameful about eating rat meat.

Everyone watched Lister curiously. Like a diligent little mouse, he constantly ran back and forth through the group. His crude slingshot fired ordinary pebbles from every unimaginable angle. The children could only see a black blur streak through the air, after which the little mouse would run dozens of meters away and pick up an unlucky victim from the yellow-green weeds. It was unbelievable. How did he spot those little creatures in the grass?

"They're nice and fat!" Lister raised the large catch in his hand. The field mouse was as big as an adult man's fist, its belly packed with thick fat. Several farmer children cheered. When Lister returned, they skewered the big fellow onto the branches they carried on their backs. Several branches already held thirty-two plump, unfortunate creatures.

"The airship is docked on that mountain over there." Octas looked toward the faint shadow in the distance. It was still twenty-one kilometers to "over there." That was a mana node, and airships docked there could replenish their elements from the natural mana node. Dalaran was over a thousand li away, with the dangerous Black Forest stretching for hundreds of li in between. Without taking an airship, they would have to travel at least twice as far. He looked at the children. "If we don't keep moving, we'll rest here tonight."

The eight children had no objections. They were all children of farmers from Fleck Village, and their usual farm work was far more grueling than this. The next moment, the clamor of carriages came from behind them. A group of people shouting and yelling made everyone turn around.

At the head of the procession were ten knights clad in black full-plate armor. The left side of each sturdy breastplate bore his family crest, while black-and-red rooster-tail plumes atop their helmets fluttered arrogantly in the wind. Their left hands held the reins with casual ease, while their right hands raised a large red banner high overhead, gleaming beneath the blood-red autumn sunset. The banner bore the crest of the Newman Family: a roaring one-eyed giant bear.

Everyone stepped aside, including Octas. Ambella Fleck stared intently at the knight in front. He rode a magnificent black stallion. Though he wore a full steel visor, the delicate fingers gripping the flagpole tightly made it clear that he was still very young.

"That should be Joel. He placed third in the Lordaeron Tournament last year, and King Terenas personally knighted him." Ambella's words drew cries of amazement from the others. Though they had no idea how prestigious such a grand tournament was, the knights thundered past, their hooves mercilessly trampling through the muddy water. Nobo Fleck failed to dodge in time and was splashed across the face.

"Damn it!" He could not help cursing as he angrily pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the sewage running down his face. Perhaps it even contained leftovers from the horses relieving their bowels. "Is this knightly spirit?"

"You're not allowed to insult him!" Ambella raised her voice, as agitated as a hen protecting her chicks. "You're not even a knight!"

"Of course I'm not a knight! I'm a mage. I'll be a mage someday!" Nobo roared furiously, his face flushed red. "How long are you going to keep swooning over him?"

"You..." Ambella wanted to say more, but the carriages had already arrived, and Octas reminded them in a low voice to remain quiet. "Count Newman is here."

The carriage, made from blackwood soaked in deep water for centuries, was inlaid with gold and silver ornaments. The extravagant scent of perfume drifted on the wind into everyone's noses. Twelve large carriages, each drawn by four horses, slowly rolled forward, followed by hundreds of imposing guards. The wind carried the laughter and cheers of the children aboard into everyone's ears.

These children all came from noble families in Newman City. They were well fed, well clothed, and pampered. Unlike Nobo, Ambella, and the other nobles raised in the countryside, they had neither undergone warrior training in the city nor endured the hardships of the fields. They only knew how to read and write. Making them walk from Newman City to this place would probably kill them.

"Are they going to the airship docking point too?" Lister's abrupt question made several people shudder. Just as Ambella was about to answer, Octas nodded. His dark eyes were as cold as an abyss. "Yes. They're going to Dalaran too."

Something white was tossed from the last carriage. Everyone looked over and discovered that it was a cake that had only been half eaten. White cream and pale yellow sponge were slowly swallowed by the sewage. They seemed to catch the precious sweet fragrance, and several children swallowed hard.

Reckless laughter came from inside the carriage. A blond little boy leaned out and looked down imperiously at the nine of them. Just as he was about to speak, he saw Octas and let out a scream. Like a cake trampled by horse hooves, he immediately sank back into the pitch-black carriage.

Everyone fell silent, looking at the cold sewage and lowering their heads as though mourning the cake.

Lister shrugged. He followed Octas's footsteps and strode onward.