Black Hearted Mage

Chapter 329 Paladin Training Camp

The banquet table was laden with a riot of delicious delicacies. Golden, glistening roasts shimmered in the candlelight, their rich aroma filling the dining room. Stews simmered gently in silver cauldrons, their aroma of spices tantalizing. Golden, fluffy omelets, adorned with verdant herbs, exuded the fragrance of egg and milk. Thinly sliced ​​savory beef, its texture distinct and tender, was equally juicy. A variety of seasonal fruits and vegetables were equally impressive: berries from the Endless Forest, still fresh with the freshness of morning dew, exotic fruits from the southern continent exuded a sweet aroma, and most strikingly, a deep-sea seaweed with a faint blue sheen, a delicacy rarely seen even at banquets in the imperial capital.

"My Lord Duke, I'm truly ashamed to say that I haven't been able to find a decent cook in this remote village. I can only ask you to make do with some simple meals!"

Caesars said this, his hand expertly shoving a piece of stewed meat with his silver fork. Just as he was about to enjoy it, a sudden crunching sound came from the corner of the dining room. The pup was devouring a meaty ox leg bone, its sharp teeth easily crushing the bone. The sound of chewing made everyone present swallow, their appetites whetted.

"Kaisas, why are you, fat dog, staring at the stew pot?"

As soon as Duke Solomon took the golden omelet cut by Old Roy, he noticed the puppy's scarlet eyes staring straight at the stew pot in the middle of the dining table, with greed in his eyes.

"Please forgive me, Duke. According to custom, all the leftovers from tonight's feast belong to it. It will not only keep an eye on the stew pot, but also on the dining table."

Before Caesars could finish his words, the dining room door suddenly flung open. Sean rushed in, breathless, his butler's uniform stained with mud and sweat dripping down his forehead. He clutched a yellowed parchment in his hand, his face brimming with excitement. "My Lord Earl! It's a rich mine! While the veins aren't large, the ore is of extremely high purity! Furthermore, they're shallow, making mining effortless! This is the prospector's detailed appraisal report, with all the data recorded!"

Caesars took the yellowed sheepskin certificate and gently stroked the red seal with his slender fingers. He narrowed his dark eyes slightly, his gaze swiftly scanning the paper like a hawk, taking in every crucial detail.

"Sean, what does it mean by deep prospecting?"

The moment Caesars raised his head, a strand of black hair fell from his shoulder. He stroked the frayed edge of the parchment, his voice filled with a hint of cautious exploration.

The middle-aged butler immediately took a half step forward, his boot heels clicking crisply against the floor. "My Lord, after preliminary surveys, the prospector believes the existing veins are likely to extend downward. He recommends digging two vertical shafts along the direction of the quartz veins," Sean explained, gesturing. "This will directly determine the gold content of the underlying rock mass. The prospector has discovered clear vertical gold lines within the slate layer."

The corners of Caesar's lips curled up slightly, his fingertips unconsciously tapping a brisk rhythm on the parchment. With this gold mine, he could finally put an end to those time-consuming and laborious tasks. Let Duke Solomon's men worry about the minutiae of mining and smelting, while he could simply sit back and reap the rewards, devoting more time to meditation and practice. The thought brought a long-awaited sense of relief to his chest.

As his thoughts drifted, Old Ethan's hoarse voice seemed to echo in his ears again. The elven elder had once meaningfully traced the star map with his withered fingers during their private conversation beneath the dragon's blood tree. The rivers of time between planes never flow parallel. When Caesars's ancestors returned from their previous teleportation, they wouldn't have to wait a thousand years. The time difference from the previous teleportation had distorted the world by over three hundred years...

Dinner officially began. Duke Solomon was in a good mood, and his appetite naturally increased. Many of the foods were new to him, especially the fruits from the Endless Forest, which were so tempting that he couldn't resist. So he ate a little too much.

As the first miners began to erect the headframe, Duke Solomon's carriage kicked up a cloud of dust. Before departing, the Duke deliberately detoured to the mining area, his gilded cane leaving a series of shallow dents along the edge of the pit. Tax collectors in the distant imperial capital had already received generous gifts, and the finance minister's ledgers had already registered this place as a poor mine. Even the reports sent back by the Empire's eagle-eyed spies portrayed the mine as nothing more than a worthless waste.

At this moment, Caesars sat cross-legged on the oak floor of the castle attic. The scattered magic crystals around him shimmered faintly in the twilight. He took long, drawn-out breaths, each one dimming the luster of the crystals. Outside, the chubby puppy rolled over contentedly, its stubby tail occasionally slapping the doorframe. The elemental energy seeping through the crack in the attic door was like an invisible warm current, giving its short fur a faint reddish sheen.

The castle's internal affairs were well-managed by the head maid. With the butler Sean patrolling the exterior, there was no need to worry about anyone stealing the gold. This gold belonged not only to Rose Castle but also to Duke Solomon.

At dusk two weeks later, the setting sun shone through the narrow attic window onto the oak floor. A series of rapid bangs shattered the tranquility of the meditation room, accompanied by the characteristically sharp barking of a puppy. Caesars slowly opened his eyes, a flicker of understanding in his dark pupils—the one that had caused this usually lazy, fat dog to become so restless must be the arrival of the Safin family.

"Stop it, damn dog!"

Cursing under his breath, Caesars stood up, his joints cracking from prolonged sitting. Outside, the chubby puppy was pounding furiously with its front paws against the solid oak door, so hard that the frame trembled slightly.

"You idiot, if you keep hitting this door, it'll shatter into pieces!"

He flung the door open and grabbed the soft flesh of the puppy's neck. The heaviness of his hand made him raise an eyebrow - this guy was gaining weight at an alarming rate.

"Damn it!" Caesars weighed the heavy puppy in his hands. "Last year, you could still nap on my lap. Now you must have gained more than ten pounds, almost as much as a one-year-old wild boar!"

The puppy being held in the air did not show any panic at all. Its four stubby paws were slowly moving in the air, its bloody mouth full of sharp teeth was exaggeratedly grinning, and its long bright red tongue was hanging out, just like a smug prankster.

"Lead the way, Fatty!"

Caesars threw it to the ground in disdain. The puppy's chubby body bounced twice on the carpet. Then it leaped out with agility disproportionate to its size. Its dark red fur left a blurry afterimage in the dim corridor before disappearing around the corner of the stairs in an instant.

Caesars adjusted his collar, embroidered with intricate magic patterns, and his fingertips caressed the badge on his chest that embodied his archmage status. He took a deep breath and slowly descended the ancient stone steps. The sound of his boot heels colliding with the stone steps was particularly clear in the empty castle.

In the ground-floor reception room, two visitors in dark green hunting suits fussed nervously over their teacups. Caesars narrowed his eyes—they were indeed Count Safin's brothers, though their chubby faces and thinning hair were drastically different from what he remembered. He didn't even bother to exchange pleasantries. He walked straight to the main seat, tossed his magic robe, and sat down.

"How much soufflé and cheese are there?"

Caesars asked bluntly, his slender fingers tapping impatiently on the oak tabletop. The magic lamp on the wall of the reception room flickered with his mood swings, stretching the shadows of the three people on the stone wall longer and shorter.

"Your Excellency, please review the inventory of this shipment!"

The middle-aged man, his hairline receding, hastily rose from his oak chair, knocking over the rum on the table. He didn't bother wiping the stains from his coat as he hurriedly pulled a yellowed piece of animal hide from his pocket. Detailed data was written in dark blue ink on the palm-sized hide, and the edge was branded with the Safin family's distinctive double-horned bull wax seal.

Count Caesars took the list in his slender fingers, his eyes quickly scanning the figures. The parchment detailed not only the quantity and price of the soufflés and cheeses, but also the total amount. Sunlight filtering through the stained glass windows shone on the ink, illuminating the words "Total: 52,000 gold coins."

"It seems the Gravel Kingdom is enjoying good harvests!" Caesars tapped the list with his knuckles, his golden cufflinks casting flickering specks of light on the table. "This output is equivalent to your family's harvest over the past four or five years!"

As he spoke, his left hand arced through the air, and five oak chests materialized from thin air on the wool carpet. As the lids opened, the clink of newly minted gold coins rang out with a sweet, crisp clatter. Then, as if by magic, the Earl produced two purses sewn from unicorn hide, their mithril drawstrings gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

"Here's 52,000 gold coins. Now, give me the storage ring you use to store your belongings, and you can just take this empty ring. This way, everyone can save a lot of trouble!"

Caesar's penetrating gaze drifted between the two men. His slender fingers slowly and gently pushed a storage ring inlaid with a sapphire across the polished oak tabletop. The Safin family representative carefully picked up the ring, his fingertips tracing the delicate cut lines on the gemstone's surface. A flicker of surprise crossed his eyes—not only was this ring exquisitely crafted, but the storage space within was also over 30% more spacious than usual. He looked up and exchanged a knowing glance with Caesar. A smile of satisfaction curled the corners of his lips as he solemnly slipped the ring onto his right index finger.

In the shadow of the gilded doorframe of the living room, the puppy, its fur the color of aged wine, remained sculptural and still. Its moist nose twitched slightly, and its scarlet pupils reflected the light from the kitchen at the end of the corridor, where the crisp sound of porcelain plates clattering could be heard.

The puppy doesn't care about the food in the kitchen now. It is waiting to get its share of soufflé and cheese after the transaction is completed.

When the seventh dusk fell, Caesars lifted the Soul Gem, once ablaze with brilliant white light. The gem's interior, like an extinguished star, was reduced to a misty gray, appearing dim and lifeless. The bone-chilling chill emanating from the Soul Gem reminded him of the unmelting ice of the northern tundra. The soul energy stored within was depleted.

Kaesus slowly opened his eyes, his fingertips caressing the gray crystal in his palm. This object, known as the "Soul Gem," glowed a sickly pale color in the candlelight, its surface covered in dark, spider-web-like lines. This wasn't a gem at all, but a demon core plucked from the skull of a brain-devouring demon. These terrifying creatures, dwelling on the fortieth layer of the abyss, delighted in piercing their prey's skulls with their slender mouthparts and sucking out the warm brain matter within.

He gazed into the solidified darkness within the gem, sensing its lingering hunger. A month ago, it had still emanated a milky glow, but now it lay like a lifeless pebble. Caesars loosened his grip, letting the Soul Gem roll to the side. Without a sufficient supply of soul energy, the magic power gained during meditation was less than 30% of his usual level.

"Looks like we need to go to the other side of the Emerald River!"

As Caesars rose, his black robe billowed like night mist, and the shadows on the wall distorted by the surge of magic. The Thorn Flower Trading Company's long-term commission required three thousand golden emblems of the Church of Saint Laurent. This mission was extremely difficult, but completing it would yield sufficient soul energy.

He slowly unfolded a yellowed parchment map. On the finely textured leather, he outlined the entirety of Bitterwater Farm with fine ink lines. In the western portion of the map, a magnificent mansion was marked in dark red, surrounded by a warning of extreme danger and the inscription "Necromancer Territory" in small letters. Beneath the mansion lay a complex network of underground passages, the winding lines seemingly wriggling under the light.

The center of the map was a vast expanse of green farmland, dotted with a few simple farmhouses. Irrigation canals crisscrossed like veins, connecting the various cultivated areas. To the east, a dense cluster of neatly arranged military-style buildings stood, their fluttering flags clearly visible. There, prominently marked was the "Paladin and Battle Priest Training Base."

He traced his finger along the southern edge of the map, stopping at the winding, emerald-green river. This river, originating in the south, formed a natural boundary downstream. Low, rocky hills dotted both banks, their rough, rocky contours clearly visible on the map. Across the river, eastward, about twenty or thirty miles away, the Paladin training camp was deliberately outlined in golden ink, gleaming in the sunlight.

According to intelligence reported by Eagle spies, the Paladin training camp was far weaker than expected. The camp consisted primarily of mid-level Paladins, clad in standard silver-white armor, who daily repeated basic swordplay and Holy Light prayers. Occasionally, a few experienced Paladins could be seen, but they were merely instructing the newcomers. Truly powerful high-ranking Paladins were few and far between—aside from the elderly instructor, there were only two Templar Knights who were constantly on missions and occasionally returned for rest and recuperation.

Such defensive strength is obviously not enough to deal with a sudden large-scale attack. Caesars stroked his chin, a trace of thought flashing in his eyes.