After having dinner with the sisters Daili and Daisy, Daisy began pestering Laine again, asking him to teach her water magic.
Just as Laine was about to agree, Daili couldn't stand it anymore and dragged Daisy away to wash the dishes.
Looking around, Laine realized he had pretty much finished his work for the day, so he yawned and returned to his room.
Back in the butler's quarters, Laine lay down on the bed. Although old Ram had passed away there earlier that day, Laine felt no unease about it.
After all, sleeping next to the mangled corpses of fallen comrades had become commonplace for him.
Laine was quite satisfied with his day's work as a butler.
Taking care of children and handling miscellaneous tasks wasn't tiring at all, especially with two maids helping out.
It worked out well, since Laine had been disconnected from society for ten full years due to his duties as a knight. If he were to suddenly try living independently in the city now, even with the added benefit of his transmigrator's memories, he would likely struggle to find his footing.
Lying in bed, Laine carefully listened to the subtle sounds in the stillness outside as he slowly closed his eyes.
♤♡♢♧
As night fell, the door to Nanaly's chamber slowly opened. Her petite figure crept stealthily through the darkness until she reached the dining table.
Carefully pulling out a chair, Nanaly sat down without making the slightest sound.
Looking around the spacious environment, Nanaly let out a soft breath and extended her right hand. Her azure eyes gleamed faintly in the reflected moonlight.
"Through the meridians, feel..." she murmured, silently reciting an incantation in her mind.
In the next moment, Nanaly felt something being absorbed into her body, flowing through her, leaving trails of warmth in its wake.
Suddenly, a faint yellow glow emanated from her hand, and a small flame appeared, flickering in the darkness.
The flame was tiny, struggling against the encroaching darkness, seeming as if it might extinguish at any moment.
Even so, Nanaly's face lit up with joy.
Unfortunately, after a short while, the flame finally succumbed to the darkness and disappeared.
"...Still failed, huh."
The joy faded from Nanaly's small face along with the flame.
She tried casting the flame-summoning spell several more times, but each attempt ended in failure.
Finally, Nanaly gave up. Sitting in the silent darkness, she stared down at the table, lost in thought.
"Young miss, who taught you your magic? The teachers at Olcott Academy?"
A voice suddenly came from nearby.
Nanaly jumped in surprise, quickly lifting her head and turning toward the voice like a startled kitten.
She saw Laine standing not far from her, watching her with a smile.
Seeing him, Nanaly pressed her lips together, her face reddening as she asked, "When... when did you..."
Her voice was clearly flustered.
It was understandable - after all, specifically choosing the dead of night to practice magic alone without making any sound clearly indicated she didn't want anyone to see her.
Laine stroked his chin and said:
"I arrived during your third-to-last attempt at magic, young miss. Did I frighten you? I apologize."
After maintaining eye contact with Laine for a moment, Nanaly's emotions finally settled, and her tone regained its coldness:
"As you can see, I was just practicing magic. It has nothing to do with you. I hope you can forget everything you just saw."
It seemed the young miss still had some pride.
As for the coldness in Nanaly's voice, Laine noticed it seemed more like a facade, as if she was deliberately trying to hide something and keep others at a distance.
But Nanaly's deliberate concealment was somewhat clumsy.
Instead of responding to Nanaly's obvious attempt to dismiss him, Laine silently raised his hand.
As Nanaly looked questioningly at Laine's raised palm, a roaring flame suddenly appeared in it.
The flame was notably brighter than the small one Nanaly had summoned, dispelling large patches of darkness, its form reflecting in Nanaly's pupils.
"I actually know a thing or two about this kind of magic. Perhaps I could help you, young miss."
Laine said with a gentle smile, while carefully observing Nanaly's changing expressions.
Nanaly stared at the flame in Laine's hand for a moment, then opened her mouth as if to say something, but swallowed her words back with reddened cheeks.
After a while, Nanaly whispered in a barely audible voice: "Rolin..."
"Rolin?" Laine asked, puzzled.
"My magic teacher, Rolin Wenzer, is a renowned magic instructor in Atte City..."
Nanaly said bashfully, keeping her head down. If Laine looked closely, he would see that her face was red enough to drip blood.
This statement answered Laine's initial question while also indicating her acceptance of his help.
After all, Nanaly couldn't bring herself to directly ask Laine to teach her magic, both because of how she had just tried to dismiss him and because of her own personality.
Could it be that our young miss is a bit tsundere?
Laine seemed to have discovered some interesting traits in Nanaly.
As for the magic instructor she mentioned, Laine could tell there were problems with their teaching method just from watching Nanaly cast magic.
Everyone has different magical aptitudes, so the same method of casting can't be applied to everyone.
Nanaly had magical aptitude, but the instructor was clearly using the same approach for all students, which happened to be ineffective for her.
Logically, if this instructor had always used this method, there should be quite a few children like Nanaly.
To confirm this, Laine asked, "Among that instructor's students, roughly how many are unable to learn magic?"
"About two-thirds," Nanaly answered, notably more cooperative than before.
It was clear that she really wanted to learn magic.
This confirmed that the problem lay with the instructor.
However, even so, having one-third of the students able to cast magic seemed unusually high.
Likely, among these students, there were quite a few self-taught prodigies with exceptional talent.
nd fell into a coma while saving his younger sister from an out-of-control car. He became a vegetable. No one knew that his consciousness had crossed into a world of cultivation. Over the course of sixty years, he began as the lowest kind of mine slave, struggling to survive amid mountains of corpses and seas of blood. By sheer chance, he eventually obtained the complete memories of a fallen Immortal King. Alchemy, medicine, formations, feng shui, physiognomy, artifact forging… Every great inheritance of the cultivation world was now his. But when he opened his eyes again, he discovered that ten full years had passed in the modern world. To pay for his treatment, his father had sold the family’s shop and house, leaving himself covered in lasting injuries and illness. His mother had cared for him day and night, and more than half of her hair had already turned white. His younger sister, who had been only fifteen back then, was now twenty-five. To help repay the family’s debts, she had been forced to lower her head and put on a smiling face in places of glittering lights and endless revelry. Only then did Chen Xuan understand that what he had lost was not merely ten years. He had lost the life his entire family was meant to have. The good news was that he had brought back the memories of an Immortal King’s entire lifetime. The bad news was that his soul had returned alone—his cultivation had not come with him. Spiritual energy was scarce, resources were depleted, and the modern world still had firearms, surveillance, capital, and laws. If he wanted to protect his family, break free from everyone’s control, and become truly invincible beneath the heavens, he would have to start all over again.
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
s + Rent Collection Wealth】 At the start, he inherited a rundown house in the urban village from his grandfather. The house had no tenants, but the moment he was diagnosed with a terminal illness, a self-proclaimed empress from the Tianxuan Continent arrived as his first tenant. Ye Chuan soon discovered that with every new tenant moving in, not only did he receive massive daily payments, but he also obtained unique items related to their backgrounds. 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Tiger Strength Pill—dramatically enhances physical power!】 【Acquired Bai Qianshuang’s related item: Deer Blood Pill—significantly boosts vitality!】 …… From that day on, all sorts of bizarre tenants began appearing in the house: the empress from Tianxuan Continent, an apocalyptic sorceress from the Magic Realm, a mysterious scientific girl who fell through a spacetime rift… Every single day, he received strange, powerful items and endless money. Then one day, he suddenly realized—he had become invincible. Enough, enough! Stop giving me more!
e bizarre and supernatural had descended. The previous emperor was a thoroughgoing tyrant; no longer satisfied with human women, he had set his sights on a stunningly beautiful supernatural entity. He met his end in his bedchamber, drained of all his vital essence. As the legitimate eldest son and crown prince, Wang Hao was thus hastily enthroned, becoming the young emperor of the Great Zhou Dynasty. No sooner had he awakened the "Imperial Sign-In Intelligence System" than he was assassinated by a Son of Destiny—a classic villain's opening. The Great Zhou, ravaged by the former emperor's excesses, was in national decline. The great families within its borders harbored their own treacherous schemes, martial sects began to defy the imperial court's decrees, and border armies, their pay and provisions in arrears, grumbled incessantly against the central government. Fortunately, the central capital was still held secure by the half-million Imperial Guards and fifty thousand Imperial Forest Army who obeyed the court's orders, along with the royal family's hidden reserves of power, barely managing to suppress the realm. As the Great Zhou's finances worsened and supernatural activities grew ever more frequent, the court sat atop a volcano. Ambitious plotters everywhere dreamed of overthrowing the dynasty, and even some reclusive ancient powers emerged, attempting to sway the tides of the world. At the first grand court assembly, the civil and military officials nearly came to blows, fighting tooth and nail over the allocation of fifty million taels of silver from the summer tax revenues. The spectacle opened Wang Hao's eyes—the Great Zhou's bureaucracy was not only corrupt but also martially proficient, a cabinet of all-rounders. Some officials even had the audacity to suggest the emperor release funds from the imperial privy purse to address the emergency. Wang Hao suddenly felt weary. Let it all burn.
