Druid Spells (Part 2)

"Oh? You can cook too? It smells wonderful!" Just then, the Druid returned.

He eyed it suspiciously, took out a wooden spoon, ladled himself half a spoonful, and took a sip. His spirits immediately lifted.

"It really isn't bad!" he praised.

Romon said nothing. He took a wooden spoon himself, ladled half a spoonful, and drank it. He found it rather ordinary—only very fresh. That was thanks to the chicken essence, while the fishy smell was indeed gone, largely due to the wine.

Still, for people of this world, it seemed quite good already.

He served up the fish soup and carried a bowl to Nick, who had just woken up. Nick accepted it gratefully, as though he had never tasted such delicious fish soup before. His appetite surged, and before long, he gulped it all down.

After drinking, Jefa sat comfortably on a wooden stump and carefully examined the youth.

There had been matters to attend to earlier, so he had not observed him closely. Now, the youth's green aura was exceptionally clear: a faint green core, barely visible, with a thin layer of natural spiritual energy forming a protective shield.

This was the typical sign of a Level 1 Druid. Seeing it, surprise rose in Jefa's heart, along with a faint trace of jealousy.

Jefa himself had only become a Druid at twenty-three. Before that, he had endured wind and meals in the open, sometimes confronting road-blocking bandits and fighting wild beasts. Yet this brat had become a Druid at fifteen. Once he stepped through this gate, the road ahead would lie wide open.

Though he thought so, Jefa still smiled. "Now that you've become a Druid, what are your plans?"

Romon thought properly for a moment. "I want to study Druid arts under Master Jefa. I also want to open a small shop in town and sell herbs and healing potions."

It was a perfectly normal idea. Jefa nodded. "Very good. Although you are already a Druid, there is still much for you to learn. Come here one day every week from now on. Mm, opening a small shop in town is also good. How about this? I'll write you a letter and recommend you to visit the lord. That will make things more convenient."

Romon looked deeply grateful. Rising to his feet, he said, "Thank you, Master."

Jefa wrote a letter. Its main point was that Romon was his disciple and wished to open a small shop; only at the end did he offer a few casual words of recommendation. Romon looked it over and accepted it.

Romon was not exceptionally clever, but he had lived in a modern city for twenty-five years. What he had seen and heard had taught him quite a bit, especially about competition for jobs. In this world, master-disciple relationships were far less important than they had been in ancient China.

Once the matter was settled and he saw Romon accept the letter, Jefa was quite pleased. "Nick can stay here with me. Go back and take care of this matter first."

Seeing him say so, Romon thanked him for his kindness, then took his leave.

It was afternoon by then. As he stepped outside, the autumn wind blew against him. This forest was not far from town, but it lay amid rolling hills. The shrubs had indeed begun to yellow, and looking around, the dying breath of the season had begun to settle over everything.

Descending through the hills and reaching the main road, he unexpectedly spotted a merchant caravan. It had around ten people and three carriages, struggling onward along the road.

Though it was called a main road, it was really nothing more than a path paved with gravel.

A middle-aged man rode atop one of the horses.

Romon approached. The moment he drew near, the two men at the rear immediately became alert, gripping their sword hilts. Only when they saw he was a youth did they reluctantly relax somewhat.

"Mr. Barnel, you've come to town?" Romon greeted him first.

"Oh... so it's little Romon. What are you doing out here?" The middle-aged man examined him before barely recognizing him from memory. Hearing that Romon knew him, the two men behind him relaxed.

Barnel came to town every month. With a caravan of this size, he could only travel along the main roads.

Roads connected the various towns and cities. Patrols, mercenary groups, and armies swept through them from time to time to ensure the safety of the routes. Under normal circumstances, bandits would not dare interfere on these roads, for it would bring disaster crashing down upon them.

However, the remote roads were infested with bandit groups of every size and race. There, safety was much harder to guarantee.

"It's nothing. I went to see Master Jefa, and now I'm heading back to pay respects to the Baron. I'm already a Level 1 Druid! Master Jefa gave me a letter of introduction and told me to see the lord!" Romon scratched his head and spoke happily.

"Ah, you've already become a Druid?" Barnel, who had been absentminded before, immediately brightened. His expression and tone became much warmer.

Only then did he examine him closely. The youth had short hair and quite a handsome face. Barnel remembered him being around fifteen or sixteen, but now his demeanor seemed greatly changed, carrying a trace of... maturity?

Although Druids were now far less esteemed than priests and mages, and were even secretly ostracized, they still ranked above warriors. After all, they possessed natural spells, and spells were power.

"Yes. When I get back, I plan to open a small shop in town to sell some small potions and herbs." Romon said happily, "Perhaps I'll be doing business with Mr. Barnel then!"

"Of course, of course! Leave it to me from now on. I certainly won't let you suffer a loss!" Barnel immediately wore a merchant's smile and thumped his chest loudly.

Talking as they walked, they reached Rika Town before the sun set.

It was a small town situated on the edge of the ocean and forest. A river wound its way through the town, bringing it fresh water before stretching onward toward the distant sea.

Five hundred meters beyond the town stood dense forest.

At that moment, looking into the distance, hundreds of wisps of cooking smoke could already be seen drifting slowly upward. It was time to prepare dinner.

Barnel let out a breath, his taut nerves finally relaxing. Though safety on the main road was somewhat assured, one still had to remain on guard. Now he could rest in peace, and tomorrow he could begin trading.

Rika Town naturally had soldiers. They spotted the group from far away, but everyone was familiar, so after a brief inspection, they were allowed through.

There was still some time left. Barnel went directly to Motte Inn, while Romon headed to the Earth Goddess's temple. Before meeting the lord, he hoped to obtain Miss Eileen's help.

However, the moment he reached the entrance, a carriage startled him.

The carriage was quite large. Though its exterior was plain, a golden emblem was set into its roof, the mark of nobility or the church. Yet the thick mud staining its wheels and the sides of its carriage showed that it had already traveled a long distance.

Romon quickly stepped aside to make way.

But someone inside the carriage pulled open the curtain, looked outside, and asked, "Is this the temple of the Goddess of Agriculture?"

An old man poked his head out.

"Yes, sir. This is the temple of the Goddess of Agriculture!" Romon replied respectfully.

The old man nodded slightly, but the carriage did not stop. Something gleaming with golden light fell down, making a crisp sound against the stone pavement.

The carriage continued onward.

"Master Ankas, is something the matter?" a woman's voice asked.

"Nothing, Miss Puli. Since there is a temple of the Goddess of Agriculture here, it is at least a good place to tend to wounds. Send someone to contact this temple later," said the mage called Ankas.

"Oh, then that youth just now was?"

"A beginner Druid," Ankas replied somewhat carelessly.

"Very well. We'll rest here for a while, then head for Troll Forest. We are determined to obtain this matter. We must move quickly—I don't think it can remain secret for much longer."

"Indeed." The carriage went farther and farther away.

Romon bent down and picked up the object. It was a gold coin, gleaming brightly, worth ten silver coins.

Romon entered the temple in high spirits. The person he sought was not in the outer hall, so he passed through the garden behind it. This was in fact the temple's herb garden. Though no precious flowers were planted there, it was lush with more than a hundred kinds of medicinal herbs, including Hornflower, Nightmoon Grass, and Bluegrass. These herbs were used to treat and nourish the body.

"Mr. Ansen, hello!" Seeing an old man emerge from one of the buildings behind the garden, Romon hurried forward to greet him.

Ansen was an apothecary and the keeper of this herb garden. For most ordinary townsfolk and farmers, expensive divine healing was fast and effective, but it could not compare with cheap medicinal herbs.

Thus, Ansen, who had served as an apothecary for thirty years, was deeply loved by the townsfolk and nearby tenant farmers.

"Mm, so it's Romon." Looking at the youth, Ansen smiled. "Why have you come today?"

The last rays of the setting sun slanted through the temple windows, dyeing everything with a layer of golden light. Flowerbeds surrounded the front of the temple, blooming as though it were spring in every season. Even in winter, flowers would blossom there—this was the power brought by the temple. Not only were the flowers especially brilliant, even the green leaves were exceptionally lush.

"I want to see Miss Eileen! Mr. Ansen, do you know where she is now?"

"What do you need Miss Eileen for?" a woman's voice asked. A woman emerged from behind him.

"Madam Salin!" Romon bowed slightly.

Madam Salin, the female steward, appeared to be around thirty years old and wore a blue dress.

"I have a letter from Master Jefa, and I would like to ask Miss Eileen to deliver it to the lord," Romon said. But before Madam Salin could speak, Miss Eileen appeared behind her.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Oh, Miss Eileen, I wish to meet the lord, but I don't know what path I should take. Can you help me?" Romon took out the letter. Miss Eileen accepted it naturally. After opening and reading it, she immediately smiled with delight. "Oh my, oh my, our little Romon has actually become a Druid. What joyous news! Madam Salin, arrange dinner tonight. From now on, little Romon is qualified to dine with us. As for introducing him to the lord, no problem—he is my father!"

"Ah!" Romon was somewhat startled. Miss Eileen was the local lord's daughter. Perhaps this was not a secret, but it was not something he would have known.

Miss Eileen was gentle and charming. Time always passed swiftly and comfortably in her company. She was nothing like the noble lady he had imagined in his heart.

Just then, Priest Tennis followed from behind. Seeing her brimming with joy, he asked, "Eileen, what has made you so happy?"

As he spoke, he secretly cast Romon a glance tinged with dislike.

"Priest Tennis, Romon has become an official Druid. This is happy news. Tomorrow, I will introduce him to Father. When Father hears of it, I'm sure he will be happy as well," Miss Eileen said with a smile as she put away the letter.

Upon hearing this, Priest Tennis's formerly cheerful face immediately darkened.