Quel'Thalas.
Kainar Flamesun's somewhat handsome face lay pressed against the desk, squashed slightly out of shape as he listlessly flipped through a knight novel.
"This is so boring. Sigh... when will this pig-raising job ever end...
"Though the pork chops are delicious, the pay's pretty good, and the supervisor's quite pretty... hehehe... hehehehe. Slurp."
Wiping the drool from the corner of his mouth, Kaynell slapped his own lecherous face hard.
"Ow... a little too hard."
He bared his teeth in regret.
Just then, a commotion came from outside the window.
Gently rubbing his swollen cheek, he looked out curiously. His coworkers had gathered outside the door, excitedly arguing about something, their expressions brimming with joy and excitement.
Kaynell put on his protective clothing and hard hat. Lord Al had required these, saying something about "feed pigs without due care, and your loved ones will shed tears."
When the 250-year-old Kaynell first arrived, he had been disdainful, believing the supervisor was invoking Lord Al's name to impose rules.
But when an 800-kilogram breeding boar charged at Kaynell in a frenzy, it was already too late...
Who could have imagined that an 800-kilogram breeding boar could leap three meters into the air and knock Kaynell unconscious in a single blow?
What followed was extremely bloody... ahem, extremely harmonious. For some time afterward, Kaynell couldn't hold his head up around his coworkers.
As he stepped outside, his coworkers' voices grew clearer, and Kaynell shamelessly squeezed his way into the crowd.
"Have you heard? Master Al is leaving for Dalaran before the end of the month..."
"Fake news, surely? What's worth visiting in the humans' magical kingdom? Could they even understand the children's class textbooks from Falthrien Academy? Haha!"
"Hahaha! Herbo, your tongue's as sharp as ever."
Kaynell listened blankly to his coworkers' conversation...
After a long while, the crowd dispersed.
Only then did he gradually come back to his senses.
"An opportunity!"
His eyes lit up, and he leaped three feet into the air. Just as he was about to pack his bags and head straight for Dalaran, he stopped, as though remembering something.
"Never mind. I'd better tell the supervisor first."
Scratching his head helplessly, Kaynell headed toward the supervisor's office.
During his year working at Ayou Farm, Kaynell's outlook had undergone enormous changes.
He had resisted coming here at first, but a weaker arm couldn't twist a stronger leg. Master Al had personally appointed him a swineherd, and even Headmistress Faselyn couldn't stop it. He could only slink over here.
As time slowly passed, the life he longed for drifted further away. He had felt lost, indulged himself, and pondered his future path, until an elf appeared and changed everything...
An elf named John arrived at Ayou Farm.
That farmer's such a rustic. He probably doesn't even know what magic is, does he? What a country bumpkin.
That was what Kaynell thought.
After arriving at Ayou Farm, John worked conscientiously and diligently, earning the supervisor's praise for several consecutive months and an extra six months' wages as a bonus.
What's so great about that? However hard you work, aren't you still just raising pigs?
Kaynell kicked away a pebble by his foot, thinking sourly.
"Kaynell, why are you still here? The cafeteria's already serving food."
Carrying his lunchbox, John walked up to the irritated Kaynell.
"Go away. Do you know who I am? You're standing before a noble mage."
"Haha, even a great mage has to eat, doesn't he?"
"The food here isn't worthy of my status. My business is none of your concern."
"Grrr... grrr... grrr..."
Kaynell haughtily turned his head away, but the strange noises from his stomach left him unable to save face.
"Here, eat this. I'll go get another serving."
Kaynell had intended to knock the lunchbox away and make this vulgar peasant understand the difference in their status.
But when he saw that face, he froze. That face, uncommonly unattractive among elves, held no mockery or ill intent, only utter sincerity.
Kaynell turned away. He didn't know what had happened; tears fell against his will, until he could no longer contain himself...
John said nothing more. He simply patted his shoulder, carefully set the lunchbox beside Kaynell's feet, and silently left.
Once the elf was far away, he quickly picked up the lunchbox. The food inside was ordinary, little different from pig feed to the pampered Kaynell.
Tears fell into the lunchbox one drop at a time, making the already unremarkable food taste even worse.
Yet Kaynell kept chewing huge mouthfuls. Somehow, he felt warmth in his heart for the first time in ages.
From then on, a former farmer and a former intermediate mage, two elves separated by a vast gulf in social standing, became friends.
"Kaynell, you're slacking off again."
"Shut up, you idiot. Don't let the supervisor hear."
The two, who were supposed to be working the night shift, sat on a pile of straw without a care for appearances.
The stars were particularly brilliant that night, and the two lay leisurely on the straw, gazing up at the sky.
"Hey, John, what plans do you have for your life?"
Kaynell held a stem of foxtail grass between his lips, without a trace of a great mage's airs.
"What are plans?"
"Idiot, I mean what do you intend to do in the future? Or do you have any dreams?"
"Oh, that. I'm really just a farmer, without any great ambitions. If I have a dream, it's probably for my daughter to graduate smoothly from Falthrien Academy's intermediate class."
"You rascal, you've even got a daughter already?"
Kaynell hooked an arm tightly around John's neck and teased him.
"Hehe, hehe."
John said nothing, merely smiling guilelessly.
"Ah, what a shame..."
Kaynell sighed.
"If I were still at Catherine Academy, I'd look after your daughter."
He spoke with a regretful expression.
"If you were still a great mage at Falthrien Academy, we wouldn't have become friends, would we?"
John spoke earnestly.
"Ha! You actually managed to say something so logical. That's really unlike you."
Kaynell burst out laughing, but as he laughed, he began to cry.
John was somewhat at a loss. He was only an honest farmer, and rough as he was, he didn't know how to comfort others.
After a long while, Kaynell suppressed his grief and said calmly:
"My father used to be a farmer, just like you. My mother died young, and he raised me alone. Ever since I was little, he told me I had to work hard, work hard, and work harder..."
John didn't interrupt Kaynell's recollections, merely listening attentively.
Kaynell sheepishly wiped his swollen eyes and continued:
"I loved playing as a child. My father enrolled me in Mentor Anselon's introductory magic class, but I often skipped lessons to go play. When he found out, he gave me a rare beating, but I still didn't take it seriously and kept skipping class...
"Until one day, a powerful noble from Silvermoon City wanted to acquire our land to grow Bloodthistle. You know Bloodthistle, right? Never mind, you probably don't. Bloodthistle is a highly addictive herb. Once ordinary people touch the stuff, their lives are basically ruined...
"But this herb is one of the nobles' favorite luxuries, and its price has risen accordingly. Although His Majesty has always forbidden its cultivation, those greedy nobles and capitalists clearly refused to give it up, so they set their sights on farm owners like my father...
"The powerful nobles were willing to pay a large sum for our land and farm, and my father happily agreed. But just before the deal was completed, he learned from the noble's attendants that they intended to grow Bloodthistle...
"So my upright father refused, gave that noble's lackey a tongue-lashing, and drove him off our farm..."
At this point, Kaynell's voice began to fill with anger. Only after a long while did he calm down and continue:
"Later, my father was murdered by those powerful nobles' assassins. I was lucky enough to see him one last time..."
The elf's voice, which had only just regained its calm, grew distorted:
"He said... sob... he said... sob, sob... he said that was just how the world worked, and told me... sob... to climb... step by step... one step at a time. Sob... only by becoming a so-called important person could I do what I wanted..."
John calmly patted Kaynell's back. After a long while, he took a notebook from inside his clothes and slowly opened it before Kaynell.
A yellowing photograph was tucked inside. The family of three in it smiled brightly. John stood on the left, scratching his head guilelessly, while a beautiful female elf on the right held his arm. Between them stood an exquisitely pretty little girl, playfully clutching John's trouser leg and pulling a face.
There was a quiet strength in John's voice. A hint of tenderness appeared on his rough face as he slowly said:
"This is my late wife, Hannah, and my daughter, Katie..."
Kaynell, who had still been sobbing, stopped and looked at the photograph in John's hand.
"My wife died in a riot. It was those nobles' doing. They incited the commoners... and that was how my wife..."
John's expression dimmed. He gently stroked his wife's face in the photograph and continued:
"But I don't hate those poor people... the damned nobles are the murderers who killed my wife."
Kaynell looked at John with a complicated expression. This guileless, even rustic man had a past like his own.
"But I have no talent, much less the courage to take revenge on those nobles... I spent that time in a daze. If Katie hadn't been beside me, I might already have gone to the other world to look for Hannah..."
John smiled self-deprecatingly. The pain and sorrow in his expression resonated deeply with Kaynell beside him.
"Later, I learned from the newspaper that even after suffering thirty-six assassination attempts by those shameless nobles, Lord Al had held to his convictions and kept Ayou Farm, this project benefiting the people, going...
"So I decided to come here and contribute what I could. Hehe, aren't I useless?"
John smiled guilelessly.
"No. You're a good father, and a hero."
Kaynell's eyes shifted evasively. He had personally written and polished that article. Although there had been a few assassination attempts against Lord Al, they were nowhere near the exaggerated figure of thirty-six.
Yet this lie had sustained this resilient man, helping him live on and contribute what he could to ordinary commoners, while he himself had written that flattering, even sensationalist material merely to secure his own future.
Kaynell turned away in shame, unable to meet this weathered man's eyes.
And so, after that night, the two became friends who could talk about anything.
Five months later.
John died, reportedly at the hands of assassins sent by nobles. When Kaynell first heard the news, he sat motionless for an entire day. Trembling, he took out a pipe his father had left him. A flame flickered on his finger, yet he simply couldn't light the tobacco in the pipe.
How absurd. Why would those noble lords ever assassinate a mere farmer?
Kaynell fought to control his emotions, even producing a mocking smile uglier than crying.
But when John's coffin was presented before all the farm's employees, everyone fell silent. Even some elves who had disliked John or competed with him lowered their heads and pressed their hands to their chests, silently gazing at their former coworker.
Kaynell stared blankly at John's contorted expression in the coffin. He crouched helplessly, muttering to himself as though unable to believe the scene before him.
Three days later, after attending John's funeral, Kaynell came to the supervisor's office.
"Why?"
Kaynell's voice was frighteningly hoarse. Without listening carefully, it was impossible to make out what he was saying.
The supervisor was a young, beautiful elf woman. She wearily rubbed her temples, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"Don't ask, Kaynell. This isn't something you can interfere in. I know you and John were..."
"I. Asked. You. Why."
No longer able to control his emotions, Kaynell roared out each word.
"You... sigh..."
The supervisor's expression was equally grim, though not because of Kaynell. She stood and paced nervously, looking conflicted.
After a long while, she leaned toward the elf's ear and whispered.
John, that resolute man, seemed to have an inescapable fate. He had still died at the nobles' hands... A few days earlier, Ayou Farm had selected a plot of land, but nobles wishing to grow Bloodthistle had also set their sights on it. For once, John hadn't remained silent, arguing his case with the steward sent by that powerful noble.
Because of the Salona Family's influence and Sun King Anasterian's favor, Ayou Farm ultimately secured the lease, but John, a commoner, became the target of the nobles' anger...
In the end, Kaynell didn't take revenge on those nobles, because he remembered his father's words. This world... had always been like this. Only when he had enough strength of his own could he...
Recalling those painful memories, Kaynell shook his head with a rueful smile. But his resolute eyes made it clear... the old Kaynell, mercenary, sycophantic, and timid as a mouse, was already dead. The Kaynell of today was about to welcome his new life.
Kaynell left John's home. Having left all his savings to John's adorable daughter, he felt unburdened.
"Dalaran... Mentor Al, here I come!"
The elf strode south.
PS:
First, let's celebrate this book making the app's featured new books and the website's new-book recommendations. Apparently, they're pretty good recommendation slots. Looks like this author's efforts have earned recognition from everyone and the editors after all. (A little bragging isn't illegal, right?) Haha.
Reading the reviews, I see there are still readers who dislike this book, mostly because of the writing style and the memes. Some say the memes break immersion, while others say the Chinese idioms break immersion...
But honestly, that translated-Western-fantasy style is very easy to write. Keeping the whole thing in that style without memes would be even easier. I basically wouldn't need detailed outlines or any brainpower, just follow the main plot. Wouldn't eight thousand characters a day be child's play?
But there's nothing I can do. You can't please everyone, after all. Some readers love this flavor, and others don't. Let's do a survey: if you think this writing style doesn't work and can't get into it, leave a comment in the chapter comments or reviews. I'll find time to reply. If you think it's decent and fun, leave a comment too, to give me more motivation to keep writing.
Second, I originally intended to get into the main plot in this chapter, but somehow, while writing Kaynell, I had a spark of inspiration. I felt this character should have a story and personality of his own, rather than being an insignificant clown who only appeared to lighten the mood.
I don't know whether little stories about insignificant people in World of Warcraft can touch readers' hearts, but I think touching my own is enough. After all, little people have their shining moments too. Isn't that cool?
Excluding the author's commentary, here's six thousand characters. Thank you to all the readers who've supported me along the way.
A grateful bow~