Meeting

It was somewhat cold outside. Merlin wrapped his heavy coat tightly around himself and followed Pula for about a hundred meters, arriving beneath a mottled stone wall. Suddenly Pula stopped in his tracks, turned toward Merlin, and said, "Young Master Merlin, we are here. This is the place."

Merlin looked in the direction of Pula's gaze. Sure enough, not far ahead, a strange gust of wind had appeared out of thin air. This bizarre wind was not large in scale, forming a vortex that spun continuously, from which emanated faint, infant-like wailing sounds.

Strange, the wind isn't blowing anywhere else!

Merlin frowned. This truly was a freakish gust of wind; aside from this specific spot, there was no wind blowing anywhere else in the surroundings. Merlin took a few steps forward, getting closer to the anomalous wind. He keenly discovered that the wind was not chaotic, but followed a certain order, as if some mysterious power were controlling it.

"Young Master Merlin, the force of this wind is considerable. A few of our knights once tried to investigate what was happening inside, but they were injured by stones flying out from within the wind. When the wind stopped, we went to inspect it closely, yet found nothing unusual. It's very bizarre."

Pula glanced at Merlin and said softly.

Yet Merlin was no longer paying attention to Pula's words. At that moment, he was using his Mental Power to examine the strange wind.

Within the perception of his Mental Power, Merlin sensed countless wind elements, all of them extremely berserk. Yet these berserk wind elements seemed to be imprisoned by an orderly force, constrained to operate according to certain rules.

Making elements operate according to specific rules—this was the hallmark of a spell! The spells released by a spellcaster actually relied on the action of a Spell Model to make the elements operate according to specific rules.

Take the Fireball that Merlin had currently mastered; it operated according to the Spell Model of a Fireball, compressing all those berserk fire elements into a tiny fireball, which was why it possessed such terrifying destructive power.

As for the strange wind before him, it seemed to be a kind of spell!

However, this type of spell was extremely scattered, and its power had been reduced to the barest minimum, barely able to sustain wind elements within a radius of a few meters. Therefore, this should not be caused by a spellcaster driving a Spell Model, but rather a spell automatically released by a spellcasting tool without anyone controlling it.

Spellcasting tools were items created by spellcasters to assist in casting spells. Things like magic staffs and scrolls all belonged to spellcasting tools. Merlin had read in old man Aita's spell notes that every single spellcasting tool was extremely precious, usually crafted only after powerful spellcasters of the first rank or higher expended a massive amount of effort and materials.

Consequently, even old man Aita did not possess a spellcasting tool.

The thought that the strange wind might be caused by a spellcasting tool filled Merlin's heart with excitement. Any spellcasting tool whatsoever was something every spellcaster dreamed of.

Although his heart pounded with excitement, Merlin's face betrayed nothing unusual. Instead, he said calmly, "Uncle Pula, wait here. I'll get a bit closer to take a look."

Commander Pula urged cautiously, "Young Master Merlin, you must be careful. Don't get too close, lest you get hurt."

Merlin nodded, then immediately took a few steps forward and approached the strange wind.

The force of the wind was indeed formidable, and on such a cold day, it lashed against his face like cutting knives. Yet Merlin did not stop; instead, he radiated his Mental Power, beginning to search for the source of this bizarre wind.

Only by finding the source of the wind could he find the spellcasting tool that released it.

Uncle Pula and the others searched long ago but found nothing. That implies this spellcasting tool might not be on the surface, but buried underground.

Merlin analyzed carefully. Aided by his Mental Power, he could easily probe for the source of the strange wind. It lay beneath a corner of the wall, extending directly underground, which matched his previous analysis nicely—there was definitely a spellcasting tool buried beneath the earth.

Having found the source of the wind and deduced that a spellcasting tool was likely buried somewhere underground, Merlin had no opportunity to unearth it right now with Pula watching nearby. He could only silently commit the general location to memory, waiting to search for it tomorrow during daylight.

Having made up his mind, Merlin retreated. Pula hurried forward a few steps, illuminating Merlin with the faint light of a candle, and asked caringly, "Young Master Merlin, are you alright?"

Just now, Pula had seen Merlin standing motionlessly in front of the strange wind and found it very strange, fearing Merlin had been hurt by it.

Merlin shook his head slightly and said, "I'm fine. Let's go back."

Pula checked Merlin over carefully from head to toe, finding no injuries, and with his mind somewhat at ease, he followed behind Merlin, preparing to return to the castle.

Yet just as they walked halfway back, they heard the sound of hoofbeats from outside, and a troop of riders charged straight toward the castle.

Joy flickered in Pula's heart, and he hurriedly said to Merlin, "It must be Lord Baron returning! Young Master Merlin, let's go quickly to welcome Lord Baron."

Father?

Merlin muttered softly, his expression shifting uncertainly. He had been in this world for some time now, and at last he was going to meet Old Wilson.

Old Wilson was Merlin's closest relation, and Merlin had no idea whether Old Wilson would discover any clues about him.

"Young Master Merlin, let's hurry. Even when Lord Baron is out in the territories, he constantly talks about you."

Commander Pula saw Merlin standing motionless and urged him anxiously.

"Alright, let's go. It is time we met..."

Pula failed to notice the change in Merlin's expression, so he walked briskly toward the castle.

Before long, numerous servants emerged from within the castle. They decorated the stronghold until it was brilliantly illuminated, bright as day, respectfully welcoming Old Wilson's return.

"Lord Baron!"

Pula took a swift stride forward, dropping directly to one knee on the ground to salute Old Wilson.

Old Wilson was currently mounted on a horse. He wore a suit of black armor, his build exceptionally sturdy with thick eyebrows and large eyes, radiating a terrifying aura akin to a wild beast.

At this moment Old Wilson held a greatsword in his hand, fresh blood still lingering on its blade. It appeared he had just come through a fierce battle.

"Hmm? Merlin?"

Finally, Old Wilson's gaze landed upon Merlin. The terrifying, beast-like aura that had just emanated from his body instantly transformed into a deep, tender affection the moment he saw Merlin, filling Merlin with a sense of warmth.

"Father!"

Merlin drew a deep breath, stepped forward a few paces, and called out.