Mist Plane
"Lord Romon, you've come?" Before a magnificent building stood a carriage. A young man in Druid robes stepped down from it. Though he wore no overly luxurious accessories, his bearing was uniquely captivating.
The gatekeeper of the Noble Library at the city's southern end immediately hurried over ingratiatingly when he saw the young man alight.
"Take this. Come wait here for me at dusk." Romon tossed a silver coin into the hands of the coachman behind him.
"Rest assured, my lord. I'll come early." The coachman bobbed and bowed, agreeing without the slightest objection.
After all, wealthy and generous customers like Romon were hard to come by.
After dismissing the coachman, Romon turned back and asked the gatekeeper, "Is it crowded inside today?"
"Lord Romon, there aren't many people inside today. You'll definitely have peace and quiet if you go in." The gatekeeper grinned.
He watched the carriage depart, his eyes full of envy.
There was no other reason. The coachman who had been bringing Romon here to read every day lately had made a small fortune.
At the very least, the money from these few trips had covered half a year's expenses.
Unlike him, who guarded this gate every day and earned barely anything.
Especially as he watched the young Druid's retreating figure enter the building, his eyes brimmed with both jealousy and envy.
People truly could not be compared. He toiled himself half to death in wind and sun every day, yet the money he earned in a month was not even a fraction of what that man spent in a day.
Still, there was nothing to be done about it. He had heard that this young man was the descendant of a noble. Though some said he was a high-level professional, what Druid above Fifth