"Sorcerer-exclusive weapon: Fallen Longsword! Length: 1.67 meters, width: 0.03 meters. Interior inscriptions include advanced Energy Convergence Runes, Fire-attribute Brand Runes, and Shadow-type Amplification Runes... Estimated finished grade: High-grade Magical Item!"
The holographic projection of the longsword cast by the Chip spun endlessly before Leilin, with dense rows of data listed all around it.
"The design is completely finished. All that's left is to find the materials and actually forge it..." A look of delight spread across Leilin's face.
But the moment he submerged his consciousness into his Sea of Consciousness, that joy quickly faded.
After two years, the silvery crystal in his Sea of Consciousness remained as sturdy as before, though its volume had subtly decreased.
As for the spiritual power he could release, it had elevated Leilin from the strength of an ordinary First-level
As for the cracks at the edge of his Sea of Consciousness, they still hadn't fully healed.
However, the mark left by the Third-level Wizard Aivik had been thoroughly expelled by Leilin.
But the tenacity of the spiritual power imprint left by a Third-level Wizard still somewhat exceeded Leilin's expectations. He had originally estimated it would take about two months to completely purge the imprint, but in reality, it wasn't until a year ago that he managed to fully eliminate every last trace of Aivik's imprint from his Sea of Consciousness.
"Perhaps! I should find an opportunity! To make contact with the Wizards of the underground world!"
Previously, due to his severe injuries, Leilin could only exert the strength of an ordinary wizard and had chosen to lie low. Now, having recovered to peak First-level strength—a level that was considered top-tier throughout the entire Dark Polar Domain—he naturally wanted to venture out.
Moreover, the sluggish progress of repairing his Sea of Consciousness was making Leilin frown deeply.
He planned to go outside and search for methods to accelerate the process. Otherwise, relying solely on the slow passage of time here, he had no idea how long he would have to wait.
At the thought of this, a wave of irritation instantly filled Leilin's heart.
His expression shifted, and he unfastened a black water pouch from his waist, taking a sip. His expression gradually relaxed into a bitter smile. "And! I must find a way to counter the emotional volatility that comes with being a Sorcerer!"
For Sorcerers, the ancient bloodlines they carried brought not only tremendous power but also a flood of negative emotions.
These emotions would lurk deep within their blood and even their souls, surfacing at random intervals to wreak havoc, plunging Sorcerers into extreme emotional turbulence.
For Wizards who pursued rationality and possessed an intense desire for control, this was almost unbearable.
As such, Leilin had always been searching for a solution to this problem.
"The South Coast's lineage suffered a break in transmission. Very little from ancient times survived—even Sorcerers were mentioned only in passing fragments. It's extremely unlikely any method still exists there! But this place is different!"
A gleam of hope shone in Leilin's eyes. "This is the Dark Polar Domain! Part of the first underground world layer! And because of the severed connections, it hasn't been influenced by outside forces, preserving the ancient heritage relatively intact. If there are a few places besides the Central Continent that might hold research materials on Sorcerers, this is definitely one of them!"
Leilin stroked his chin at the thought.
"Burt Town is ultimately too remote a location, and the resources of the Wailing Wasteland can attract at most a few apprentices. I can hardly meet any real Wizards here. It seems I'll need to push deeper into the Dark Polar Domain..."
Burt Town was just a small town within the vast Dark Polar Domain. In over two years of staying here, Leilin had hardly encountered more than a handful of Wizards.
Above the town were larger cities, tiered one above another, and at the very top was the Eastern Domain Capital!
Leilin was quite certain that within those cities, a great number of Wizards resided!
The rules of the underground world differed somewhat from the South Coast. Wizards' existence was relatively public; they wouldn't deliberately hide away in remote corners, creating an atmosphere of isolation.
But Wizards who commanded such power naturally held lofty status—even nobles had to bow when they encountered them.
"Although the Dark Polar Domain's total population is only about half that of the South Coast, thanks to the widespread dissemination of advanced Meditation Methods and their simplified variants, the occurrence rate of Wizards here is actually quite high. The overall wizard hierarchy is somewhat similar to the South Coast's. What I don't know is how many Third-level Wizards there are, and whether Morning Star Wizards exist..."
Leilin propped his chin in his hand, sinking into deep thought.
On the table, a candlestick emitted a dim yellow flame, casting Leilin's shadow long against the wall, where it swayed and flickered...
The next afternoon, little Lombard arrived at the shop right on time.
"You're punctual! I like a kid who understands the rules!"
Leilin had languidly taken over Vilin's original position behind the counter, yawning as he casually pointed toward the storeroom. "Your task is to move all those anvils to the empty ground out back!"
"Boss, isn't this—" Vilin's face twitched repeatedly before he finally couldn't hold back, pointing at the storeroom and addressing Leilin. "Those anvils are each heavier than Lombard himself!"
Following his finger through the half-open storeroom door, one could see row upon row of head-sized iron anvils stacked inside.
These were the raw materials Leilin used for smelting—extremely dense, and their weight was positively terrifying.
When they had originally been delivered, Leilin had hired three burly men who spent an entire afternoon hauling them all in. In Vilin's eyes, assigning this kind of task was clearly tantamount to bullying a child.
"He can do it or he can leave—his choice!"
Leilin shrugged, then found a reclining chair and settled into it for a comfortable nap.
"Big Brother Vilin! I want to try!" Little Lombard stared at the mountain of anvils, swallowing hard. But then he glanced at Leilin, who was pretending to doze nearby, and a look of determination crossed his face. He stepped forward and began to lift.
The anvil's weight was tremendous. Simply raising the iron block a centimeter off the ground caused both of Lombard's arms to tremble.
Thud! Lombard hunched his back, inching slowly across to the flat ground behind the shop. The iron block dropped with a heavy, muffled sound.
"Huff... huff..." Just one trip left Lombard gasping for breath, beads of sweat the size of beans dripping from his face.
"Lombard, you can't keep doing this—it'll cause permanent damage to your body..."
Vilin knew full well that this level of grueling labor would absolutely leave permanent harm on a child who was still growing—possibly even cripple him!
Setting aside the matter of Lombard's beautiful older sister, Vilin felt he simply couldn't let this kid he'd grown fond of continue.
"No!" Lombard glanced in the direction Leilin had walked off to, a stubborn expression on his face.
And so, throughout the entire afternoon, the residents of Burt Town could witness a peculiar sight at Leilin's weapon shop: A small, thin boy, carrying a black iron block nearly half his own height, inching along the ground bit by bit.
By the time his two hours of work were done that day, Lombard's hands and legs were shaking uncontrollably. He had no strength left to tinker with any swords—he simply dragged his exhausted body home.
This continued for ten full days before Lombard finally moved every anvil from the storeroom to the yard behind.
"Your work efficiency is really quite slow," Leilin remarked with an expression of dissatisfaction. "Next, I need you to move all those anvils back into the storeroom. Understood?"
"But, Master Leilin..." At hearing this new task, Lombard's body visibly shuddered. These ten days of intense labor had already left his back aching constantly—he couldn't even sleep at night from the pain. Move them back? Lombard felt he would literally be worked to death!
He didn't come here just for fun! He still had to help his parents with work every day!
"Boss! You're just toying with him!" Vilin finally couldn't watch anymore and jumped out, shouting.
"Shut up." Leilin said mildly, but the look in his eyes sent Vilin stumbling backward, clutching his chest, unable to utter another word.
"I'm the boss here! What I say goes!" A mocking smile played at the corner of Leilin's lips. "Kid, you're free to leave—but don't ever set foot in my shop again."
Lombard stood in a long silence, then walked to the anvil without a word and began moving them back.
"What an interesting kid."
Leilin poured himself a glass of mint-flavored drink and leisurely watched Lombard bustling back and forth.
He still needed some time to prepare before leaving. He happened to be a bit bored, and the Chip's daily calculations only required his attention at a broad level, so he had the leisure to tease this kid a bit.
This kind of heavy labor wasn't something a child could withstand, and it was easy to get injured if one wasn't careful during the moving. Leilin had already spotted bruises on Lombard's calves and arms.
"Just how long can you hold out? I'm quite curious, you know?"
Leilin stroked his chin, the corner of his lips curving into a meaningful smile.
A few more days passed, and Lombard's eyes had gone vacant. He could barely walk without swaying, making one wonder whether the kid might simply drop dead.
And then, right on cue, someone came to visit Leilin's shop.
"Honorable Master Leilin!" A young woman in a coarse linen dress, strikingly beautiful, lifted her skirt hem and curtsied to Leilin. "Please, could you find it in your heart to forgive my brother? Little Lombard has been doing grueling labor here for a full fifteen days now. The way he is now... I'm truly afraid he can't hold on any longer..."
The young woman sobbed softly while producing a white handkerchief from within her bosom.
Unfolding it, inside were several silver coins and copper pieces, along with a small fragment of a gold fel—roughly a quarter of its original size.
"If it's to compensate for his earlier offense, I'm willing to pay—"
Leilin gave the young woman a detached glance and shook his head.