Over the years, the resource inspectors came twice more, and each time it was a different person.
But all of them conducted themselves strictly by the book. They left after finishing their inspections and never gave Lynn any trouble.
Clearly, someone higher up had put in a word, allowing him to live comfortably.
Of course, Lynn had never stopped offering his "filial contributions" over the years. Each payment was delivered on time and in full, without any tricks.
It was not worth offending a whole chain of people over such trifling gains.
Now, his garrison assignment was nearing its end.
Lynn packed up and headed to Soul-Sinking Outpost to complete the handover.
Inside the outpost's cold, gloomy stone hall, Grom still sat in the seat of honor, quietly sipping fragrant tea.
His life as the person in charge was comfortable as well. As long as he remained at the outpost, a steady stream of resources flowed into his pockets.
It was perfectly suited for someone like him, who had no hope of advancing to a "Holy Mark" and could only retire in peace.
Lynn pushed open the door and entered, bowing slightly. "Lord Grom."
Grom raised his eyes toward him, about to nod in response as usual, but his gaze suddenly froze.
He was stunned.
For an instant, he even suspected there was something wrong with his perception.
But every repeated scan with his spiritual power gave the same result. The aura emanating from the young man before him was no longer that of a second ring, but...
"Third ring?" Grom's voice was hoarse, and he rarely lost his composure like this.
Lynn nodded. "I was fortunate enough to advance."
Grom fell silent.
He stared at Lynn for a long while, his expression shifting from shock to complexity, then