Chapter One Hundred: The New Continent

“What’s going on?” Count Clay hurried back as soon as he received the news.

“Lael, how is Henry?” Seeing Bejen weeping ceaselessly, Count Clay turned his eyes to Lael instead.

“Don’t worry, my lord. Young Master Henry is simply unconscious for now—there are no other injuries,” Lael reported the results of his examination to the count.

“That’s good,” Count Clay replied, trusting Lael’s judgment.

“My lord, I—” Bejen began.

“Enough!” Count Clay’s stern voice cut off whatever she intended to say.

“Go back and rest for now. Lael, take the lady back with you,” he said irritably, glancing at Bejen.

“Yes, my lady, please,” Lael said, gesturing politely for Bejen to follow.

“I…” Bejen looked at Henry anxiously, unwilling to leave, but the count’s gaze silenced her. “Very well, I’ll go back now,” she replied at last, resigned.

Count Clay then sat alone in Henry’s room, watching over his son as he lay in bed.

“Ugh… What happened to me?” Henry awoke in a daze, his mind clouded and confused. He remembered only that he had opened the box, and then everything faded into blackness.

“The box!” The thought jolted Henry, and he tried to look for it, but found he had no strength at all—he couldn’t even sit up on his own.

“What’s wrong with me?” Henry looked around and realized he was indeed lying in his own bed.

“You went into Hughes’s room,” Count Clay said, watching his son struggle.

“Father, I—” Henry tried to sit up and explain, but forgot in his panic that he was too weak to move.

“There will be no next time. Rest now,” the count said curtly and left the room.

Left alone, Henry lay in bed, filled with regret for having entered Hughes’s room at all.

Lady Bejen also came by secretly to see Henry, assuring him it was nothing but a temporary weakness, and he would recover after some time. Henry was much relieved to hear it; he had feared he might be bedridden for life, and all his past efforts would have been for nothing.

After that, Henry stayed quietly in bed, eating nourishing foods every day. Gradually, his strength returned, and he was soon able to move again, much to his delight.

As for Hughes, he paid no mind to whoever might fall victim to the trap. That box was indeed his handiwork—he had sealed a spell inside, one with no real harm, only enough to render its opener extremely weak. It was a trick he had set out of mischief before leaving, caring little for who might open it, since it wasn’t deadly.

Hughes was now aboard a merchant ship bound for the continent of Yalkrey—his destination this time. However, his true goal lay at the very heart of Yalkrey, while this ship would only take him to its outermost edge.

Gegare’s map included an introduction to the lands of Yalkrey. The continent was several times larger than the Far North, and was home to many races—not only humans, but elves, beastkin, and dwarves as well. All manner of creatures coexisted on Yalkrey, making it a land bustling with life and prosperity, known as the Land Favored by the Gods.

Though separated from the Far North by only a sea, the distance was insignificant to a wizard, given the endless variety of spells and knowledge in existence.

Hughes did not know how long the magic left by Gegare on his body would last, nor could he guess whether the Shadow Circle would send people after him if they discovered his defection. Still, he looked forward to reaching Yalkrey; even though Gegare’s map gave only a brief description, Hughes could already sense its vibrancy and could hardly wait to experience it for himself.

But for now, distance was an unforgiving reality, and he could do nothing to speed up the ship.

To tell the truth, Hughes was growing weary of sea voyages. Every journey seemed to last an eternity, and he was finding it increasingly intolerable. Yet ships were essential in this world, and there was no alternative way to reach his destination.

He decided to use the two months aboard to fully assimilate his mental runes. According to the chip’s analysis, it would take about two months, and Hughes resolved to complete the process on the ship. Once in Yalkrey, he would find a place to attempt his advancement to a true wizard.

The gulf between a third-tier apprentice and a fully-fledged wizard was immense. Hughes knew that only after advancing would he have the strength to fend for himself, even if the Shadow Circle sent agents after him.

“My lord, lunch is ready,” the captain came in person to summon Hughes.

Ever since Hughes had demonstrated his magic before the captain, the man had treated him with the utmost deference, personally attending to his every need, lest he incur the wizard’s displeasure.

“Understood,” Hughes replied, withdrawing from his meditative state.

The ship was far larger than the last one—the Transcendent—measuring over eighty meters long, the largest vessel Hughes had seen since arriving in this world.

“My lord, are you bound for Yalkrey on business?” Captain Vili asked cautiously as Hughes began his meal.

“Is there something you want?” Hughes replied, not fond of being interrupted while eating.

“No, no, I was just curious. Most wizards like you usually head for the Far North,” Vili whispered, glancing around nervously.

“So you know of the Far North?” Hughes asked, intrigued. Then he realized it made sense; a captain with such a ship would have traveled widely.

“I’ve been there—once. Never dared return. There are too many wizards in the Far North. If anyone on a passing merchant ship says the wrong thing, they can count themselves as good as dead,” Vili said, his face pale at the memory, as if the Far North had left him with nothing but nightmares.

“Aren’t there many wizards on the continent of Yalkrey?” Hughes asked, setting down his utensils.

“That’s something you might not know. Across all of Yalkrey, wizards are extremely rare. Those with talent are often recruited by the empires. It’s hard to see them in daily life,” Vili said, growing bolder as he spoke, and he sat down to continue their conversation.

“Why so few?” Hughes doubted that with so many people on Yalkrey, there could be so few wizards. He had hoped to find advanced meditation lore there; if Vili were right, his plans would be in vain.

“Well, my wizard friend told me that Yalkrey has little in the way of magical inheritance, unlike the Far North, where it’s intact. So most talented individuals travel north, where there are two wizard academies,” Vili explained, withholding nothing.

“Have none of the apprentices who left Yalkrey ever thought to return?” Hughes wondered. Even if Yalkrey lacked legacy, over millennia surely some system would have formed. How could it be as lacking as Vili claimed?

“That I don’t know, but wizards are indeed rare in Yalkrey. If you ever run out of money there, just reveal your identity as a wizard—plenty of organizations, noble families, and empires will seek you out,” Vili said, glancing at Hughes with envy, wishing he himself had the talent for magic.

“Do you know about the elves?” Hughes asked, satisfied for now and turning his curiosity to other matters.

“Of course! I’ve even seen them at auctions,” Vili replied, his eyes shining at the mention of elves.

“Auctions? Elves are auctioned?” Hughes stared in disbelief. He had read that elves were born strong, and upon reaching adulthood, were said to match the power of a true wizard. Could such beings really be put up for sale?

“My lord, is something wrong?” Vili was startled by the sudden intensity in Hughes’s voice, worried that he had said something amiss and angered him.