Chapter 1: The Last Metatlin

The northern port of the Skognar Empire, the city of Ceylon.

A sudden torrential rain poured in through the gaps in the fortress. The sky turned as black as if stained with dragon's blood ink, and fishing boats huddled in the harbor as huge waves crashed against the embankment, splashing up water mist over ten meters high with a deafening roar.

The rainwater accumulated and quickly spread in the slums, with water on the streets getting deeper and deeper. The drainage system, which had not been repaired for at least five years, was useless, and in an instant, the slums became a vast expanse of water.

The city of Ceylon in Magnolia Bay is no longer what it used to be. The declining fishing industry provides limited income, and the lord of the city lacks the resources and ability to repair the drainage system. It would take at least a magician skilled in alchemy and a large number of magic apprentices just to draw up the plans, which would cost thousands of gold coins. Ceylon has not had a magician for at least two hundred years, and the city hall has become little more than a decoration.

Lightning tears through the sky, and the sound of thunder lags behind, as electric serpents dance, illuminating the city in the midst of the storm. On the empty streets, a boy of about ten struggles to wade through the water, shivering as he moves forward.

The boy is very thin, with a head of unevenly cut brown short hair. The rainwater washes over his eyelashes, making it difficult for him to open his eyes. His mouth and nose exhale a faint white mist, and his legs continue to tremble. He tightly clutches an oil-paper package, which is the food he begged for today.

Boom!

With a loud thunder, the boy finally couldn't hold on any longer and fell to the ground. His face was buried in the water and he quickly choked on it. He struggled desperately, trying to stand up again. But his weak body couldn't hold on any longer. He just turned over and passed out. Even in unconsciousness, the boy's hand still tightly gripped the oil paper bag.

The storm raged for nearly two hours before the sky cleared up. The water slowly receded and people began to emerge on the streets. The unconscious boy was washed to the shelter of a porch, leaning against a hitching post.

The door was pushed open and a servant dressed man saw the unconscious boy. He ran over and kicked him hard, shouting angrily, "Beggar, get out of here and don't die here."

His voice was sharp and miserable, much like the eunuchs in the Tanggulasi Empire's court. The boy groaned and woke up from the kick, coughing violently. He felt hot all over and knew he had a fever. He still subconsciously held onto the oil paper bag tightly in his hand. The boy breathed a sigh of relief, turned over and crawled two steps away, struggling to open the oil paper bag.

Inside the oiled paper wrap was moldy old rice. He had intended to cook it after returning home, but he couldn't wait any longer. If he didn't eat something soon, he wouldn't even have the strength to walk.

The old rice in the boy's mouth felt like sand and was crunchily chewed into pieces before being swallowed.

"Bad luck!" The wicked servant saw that the boy really couldn't stand up, spat forcefully, and then turned and walked through the big door.

The boy lay on the cold ground, barely managing to swallow half a bag of uncooked rice, before shakily getting up and walking towards the east of the city without looking back. His home was outside the city, and if he didn't return before dark, he would freeze to death on the street if it rained.

Behind the vermilion door came out a fat merchant, dressed in poor-quality silk and with oil in his hair, as if he had been caught in the rain.

"Hey? Isn't that the boy from the Metatelin family? What's his name?" The fat merchant had sharp eyes and asked the two servants behind him as he watched the boy's back.

"Sarin, sir. His name is Sarin," the servant answered obsequiously, his voice sounding like a chicken being strangled. The master and servants all looked seedy, and their gaze towards the boy was extremely hostile.

The moldy old rice was wrapped in oiled paper. He had planned to cook it after getting home, but he couldn't wait any longer. If he didn't eat something soon, he wouldn't even have the strength to walk.

The old rice felt like sand in the boy's mouth, and he chewed it grittily before swallowing it down.

"Bad luck!" The wicked servant spat out and, seeing that the boy couldn't stand up, turned and went back through the big gate.

The boy lay on the cold ground and managed to swallow half a bag of uncooked rice before staggering to his feet and heading east without looking back. His home was outside the city, and if he didn't return before dark, and there was another rainstorm, he could freeze to death on the street.

A fat merchant in shoddy silk, his hair slicked with oil as though he had been caught in the rain, emerged from the crimson gate behind him.

"Hey, isn't that the kid from the Metaetlin family? What's his name?" The fat merchant's sharp eyes noticed the boy's back and asked the two servants behind him.

"Sarin, sir. His name is Sarin," one of the servants said in a servile tone, his voice sounding like that of a chicken being strangled. The master and his two servants looked vile, and their gaze at the boy was extremely unfriendly.

"How come he's not dead yet?"

"Who knows, and who knows if that bastard is still giving him food." Another servant answered angrily.

"Hmph, keep an eye on him. If he dies, buy that house before someone else takes advantage of it." The fat merchant said casually, waddling his cumbersome body as he turned to go in another direction.

"Yes, sir." The servants followed behind him carefully, almost hiding in the fat merchant's shadow.

The night was as cool as water, and the boy named Sarin dragged his tired body out of the city of Xilan. Holding the oiled paper package, he left the main road and struggled to make his way back to his ancestral home, taking three steps and resting every few steps.

This huge stone house was the last property of the Metaetlin family. Sarin pushed open the door and staggered into the house.

The stone walls were covered in moss and exuded a chill. All the windows on the outside of the two-story house had no glass, making this lonely stone house look eerie and desolate.

Sarin breathed a sigh of relief, finally home. He almost crawled up the stairs and back to his bedroom, collapsing onto the bed board. The bed board was as damp and hard as the wall.

His clothes were soaked by the rain and stuck to his body. This was Sarin's only piece of clothing. He struggled to get up, took off his clothes, and spread them out on the bed board. The oiled paper package was placed beside his head, and his waist hurt badly. He looked down and saw that it was already dark blue.

It was from that servant's kick. Sarin gritted his teeth and lay down. As long as he fell asleep, the pain would disappear.

The moonlight and cold wind poured in through the window, lacking any poetic charm. Sarin felt his body burning up, his head throbbing. If it kept up like this, he wouldn't survive for long. He struggled to get up and pulled out a box from under the bed.

The lock on the box had long been broken, and the shiny silver clasp had been traded for a week's worth of food. The camphor wood box, meant for preventing insect damage, had never been sold, and Sarin planned to use it as firewood someday.

Opening the box, he found a pile of messy bills inside. Most were debt documents, but Sarin found a metal badge and stuck it on his forehead. A cool sensation flowed in from his forehead, and the headache seemed to ease up a bit. Sarin sat on the ground and wept as he looked at the bills in the box.

The Metatelin family was once a noble family, and their surname was once a symbol of wealth in the northern part of the empire. But by Sarin's generation, the Metatelin family had nothing left. These debt certificates had become worthless pieces of paper. Those who owed the money had long since passed away. The succession of power and wars had caused the decline of the Metatelin family.

If the debtors were still alive, Sarin could buy ten Sillan cities with these loan documents alone.

The badge on his forehead was the emblem of the Metatelin family, and Sarin did not sell this palm-sized badge. Like these bills, the badge was a legacy left by his father.

When Sarin was six years old, both his parents died, leaving him only with this box and the ancestral home. With no skills to earn a living, the six-year-old Sarin could only sell things from the ancestral home to survive. Unscrupulous merchants would naturally not miss out on an opportunity to make money. What did a six-year-old child know? In less than half a year, Sarin had sold everything in the house.

Now Sarin was twelve years old, but due to malnutrition, he looked only ten years old, small and weak.

He had not sold this ancestral home, not because he didn't want to, but because buying and selling property required procedures at the city hall, and cheating was impossible. Several merchants who coveted his property refused to buy it, waiting for Sarin to starve to death. If Sarin died, the house would become ownerless and would be worth only the price of the land.

Unfortunately for them, Sarin was tough and managed to survive by begging until he was twelve years old.

Sarin lay on the bed, feeling the coolness brought by the family crest spreading throughout his body. The pain around his waist had also eased a lot, and Sarin fell into a deep sleep. He did not know whether he would wake up after this sleep.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Sarin suddenly opened his eyes, sat up, and the sunlight outside the window spilled into the room, revealing a floor full of dust.

It was very strange for someone to knock on the door so early in the morning. Sarin's ancestral house was not located near the main road, but at the foot of a mountain, and even required passing through a small forest. Since Sarin had nothing to sell, no one had come to visit him.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The knocking sound continued, and Sarin jumped out of bed. He felt much more agile and his fever had subsided. After putting the family crest back in the box and stuffing it under the bed, Sarin went downstairs to open the door.

Yesterday, he had come back feeling drowsy and had even forgotten to latch the door. Sarin felt a little scared now, as there could be wild animals around, and if one snuck in, he might be eaten in his sleep.

With a creak, the sunlight shone in and brought some warmth. Amidst the sparse tree shadows stood a middle-aged man, with black long hair and a grey robe, holding a wooden staff.

The man was under forty years old, with sword-like eyebrows and long eyes, and no beard. He wore a large silver-black ring on the hand that held the wooden staff, which was covered with complex symbols. Salin was slightly stunned. The middle-aged man's attire was quite strange. Could he be a clergyman of the Holy See?

The middle-aged man's expression seemed gentle, but it was like the manners of a nobleman. It was just his habit, and it had nothing to do with you.

Begging had made Salin sensitive. He knew who he could talk to and who to stay away from. But this middle-aged man knocking on the door was completely different from the people of Sihlan City. He was clearly standing in front of him, but Salin couldn't feel his presence.

The middle-aged man smiled and asked Salin, "Where is your master?"

He was an outsider. How could the people of Sihlan City not know about him? Salin's heart calmed down. He rubbed his forehead with his hand and said, "There is no one else here, sir. What can I do for you?"

Salin asked politely, trying to make himself appear more calm. If you want to survive, don't make people feel that you're unpleasant. That was Salin's experience of living for twelve years.

"Oh." The middle-aged man looked at Salin with some surprise. Salin hurriedly came out wearing only shorts and bare-chested. There was a palm-sized mark on his forehead, the family crest.

"Is this house yours?" the middle-aged man asked gently.

"Yes." Salin's gaze fell to the ground, and his brown pupils contracted. Could this man be a robber?

"I would like to buy this house. Can we go in and discuss it?" the middle-aged man said.

Buying the house? Sarin was a little overwhelmed by this news. He had been wanting to sell the house and go work in the city, even if it meant handling fresh fish for a living. But apprentices were more concerned with making sure he worked than making sure he ate, and if he went to work, he would starve in the first month. Sarin stood there, dazed, and said, 'Come on in.'

The middle-aged man stepped into the stone house, and the dust on his feet disappeared without a trace. The cool breeze blew through, and the musty smell in the living room disappeared. Sarin suppressed his excitement, closed the door, and carefully considered how much money would be appropriate.

The middle-aged man glanced around the room, taking in everything in his sight. Sarin could be described as having nothing to offer, as his house was bare. The middle-aged man was satisfied, though. He turned to Sarin and asked, 'You say this house is yours, but do you have the title deed?'

'I do,' Sarin nodded, but he didn't go to the bedroom to get it. He was older now and naturally understood that he needed to be cautious, especially after being cheated by merchants when he was younger.

The middle-aged man smiled and reached out to pat Sarin's head. 'Don't worry. I'm a wizard and won't cheat you out of your money. So, how much do you plan on selling this house for?'

Gold coins! Sarin's eyes lit up. He had never received gold coins by selling his family's possessions before. When a four-foot painting was taken away, they left him with only a silver coin. When he exchanged a gilded candlestick, he got two silver coins. This was still generous compared to when he was six years old and a merchant took away his entire set of cabinets, leaving him only two loaves of bread.But Sarin quickly realized and exclaimed, his eyes widening, 'Magician! You're a magician!

His voice was filled with excitement and fear, and the last few words were almost choked back. Sarin had never imagined that a magician would appear before him. For over two hundred years, no magician had appeared in Silan City, but that did not mean that everyone was unaware of their existence.

Magicians represented mystery, status, terror, and distance. Ordinary people had no way of contacting magicians, and only the nobles, emperors, armies, and wealthy classes had the privilege of knowing them.

Magicians were all very wealthy people who lived in seclusion and possessed immense magical power. A single magician could destroy an entire city, and even in front of the emperor, a magician did not have to bow their head...

In other words, magicians were living legends. They built magic towers and practiced magic within them, immune to worldly forces. Even if a war broke out, any army of any power had to go around the magic tower. If a nobleman gained the favor of a magician and was given the opportunity to support them, the nobleman's status would immediately rise.

"Sarin's mind was in turmoil. He realized keenly that the appearance of this magician would change his fate. But he didn't know how to handle it. Should he ask for more money? Would that make the magician unhappy?

Gold coins! Gold coins! Bread...

"A hundred gold coins, okay? I'll buy you a small house in the city, enough for you to live in," the magician looked at the child with some pity. Sarin's body was thin, and one could easily count the number of his ribs. The ribs were also bruised, making him look even more pitiful.

Sarin was overwhelmed by the offer of a hundred gold coins and was about to agree immediately. But the pain in his ribs suddenly came, and he gasped and bent over, frowning.

"Oh, let me have a look," the magician supported Sarin with one hand and released a magic with the other. A green light flashed and enveloped Sarin's body."

Salin felt as if he was immersed in warm water, and the green light seeped into his skin, relieving the pain in his body.

A thought arose in Salin's mind, like a temptation from the devil, that couldn't be shaken off.

"I don't want gold coins!" Salin straightened up and said, "Master Mage, please take me as your student."

Salin didn't know how to bow, he lifted his head and looked straight into the mage's eyes. At this moment, his mood could no longer be described as just nervousness. What would the mage's reaction be? Would he think that Salin was insulting the mage profession? Would he turn around and kill Salin?

The mage's black eyes were deep, bright, and textured like obsidian. He looked at Salin thoughtfully and said, "You want to be my student?"

"Yes, I want to learn magic," Salin said firmly. Despite his fear, the pain in his ribs was stimulating his heart. What was the use of selling the house for more money? Sitting around and doing nothing, he had no survival skills. If he encountered a thief, he might not even be able to save his life.

"Learning magic is difficult," the mage interrupted Salin and continued, "Out of ten people, nine can become magic apprentices, but out of a hundred magic apprentices, only one or two may become mages. The power of a magic apprentice is not strong and can only serve as a means of livelihood. If you become my student, without my permission, you are not allowed to change your career."

Salin knelt down with a thud, bowing his head and said, "I am willing to become your student." He tried to make his words sound less vulgar and learned to use respectful language.

"Get up," the mage's voice turned cold. He said with an unquestionable tone, "Even if you are a magic apprentice, you cannot kneel before others. Remember, if you want to be my student, this is the last time you will ever kneel."

"Yes, teacher," Salin said happily as he stood up. He knew the mage had granted his request.

"What's your name and how old are you?" The mage's voice softened.

"My name is Salin Metatlin, and I am twelve years old," Salin replied respectfully, but his stomach grumbled embarrassingly.

The mage smiled and said, "Go change your clothes, eat something, and I'll be waiting for you in the living room."

"Okay." Sarin replied and ran quickly up to the second floor. He returned to his room, put on his coat, then went downstairs and rushed into the kitchen. The half bag of leftover rice was still on the stove, he opened the oiled paper bag, grabbed a handful of rice and stuffed it into his mouth.

"You're just going to eat that?" The wizard's voice sounded at the door, startling Sarin. He stopped his hand and awkwardly didn't know what to say. The wizard sighed and took out a piece of jerky, handing it to Sarin. Tears streamed down Sarin's face, not even pausing in his eye sockets.

He wiped his tears with his sleeve and didn't eat the jerky, instead saying to the wizard, "Teacher, from now on, I won't cry and won't embarrass you."

The wizard watched as the boy cried and ate ravenously, not saying anything. In fact, with his status, even if he were to offer ten thousand gold coins, he might not be able to persuade himself to take on a student. But when he saw Sarin for the first time, he felt a great deal of compassion. Sarin's eyes lacked vitality and were filled with despair, as if he was on the brink of death.

The magician didn't ask Sarin to do anything. He took out more beef jerky and bread and placed them in the kitchen. Sarin didn't know how these things appeared, but he had no doubts. In his heart, the magician was omnipotent.

The magician let Sarin rest first. He watched Sarin go to bed and cast a hypnosis spell. Sarin's vision went black, and he fell asleep immediately. When he opened his eyes, he felt hungry again. The magician's voice sounded in his ear: "Take a look around and get familiar with the environment, then come to the living room."

The magical voice was sent directly into his ear, not too heavy or too light. Sarin marveled at this and jumped out of bed. His shoes were already dry, so he put them on and found that there was another door in his room. The room had also changed, with a table, chairs, and a cabinet. On top of the cabinet was a huge dressing mirror.

The whole room was spotless, as if it had just been cleaned. The furniture wasn't new, but there was a mattress on the bed, along with blankets and pillows. Sarin had slept soundly and hadn't felt a thing. When he opened the door, the corridor was also exceptionally clean, with several rooms already fitted with doors and some oil paintings hung on the walls. Everything was like when his parents were still alive, and Sarin had the urge to cry again, but this time, he held back.

"The magician didn't ask Salin to do anything. He took out more jerky and bread and placed them in the kitchen. Salin didn't know how these things appeared, but he had no doubts. In his mind, the magician was omnipotent.

The magician let Salin rest first. He looked at Salin lying on the bed and cast a hypnosis spell. Salin's eyes went black and he immediately fell asleep. When he opened his eyes, he felt hungry again. The magician's voice sounded in his ear, "First, take a look around and familiarize yourself with the environment, then come to the living room."

Magical magic, the voice directly sent into his ear, neither light nor heavy. Salin sighed and jumped out of bed. His shoes were already dry. He put on his shoes and found that there was an extra door in his room. The room had also changed, with a table, chairs, a cabinet, and a huge dressing mirror on the cabinet.

The whole room was clean as if it had been cleaned. The furniture was not new, but there was a mattress, a quilt, and a pillow on the bed. He slept soundly and didn't feel anything. When he opened the door, the corridor was also unusually clean, and the doors of several rooms were all installed, with some oil paintings hanging on the walls. Everything was like when his parents were still alive, and Salin felt like crying again, but this time he held back.

There are eight rooms on the second floor, four large and four small. Salin's room was small and at the end of the corridor. He looked at each room one by one. The four large rooms had all been converted into studies, and one of the three small rooms was a bedroom, and the other two doors could not be opened.

What surprised Salin was that the entire second floor had been newly paved, and the doors and windows had been repaired, with countless mysterious symbols added to them. The walls seemed to have been repainted, and the ceiling was also clean, not a single spider could be seen.

The house became very strange, and Salin walked down the stairs uneasily. The furniture had been placed in the first-floor hall, and the kitchen was full of utensils. Salin didn't go to the basement. He came to the living room, pushed the door open, and even though he was mentally prepared, he still opened his mouth wide, astonished by the completely transformed living room.

A huge table was placed in the center of the living room, and Salin couldn't tell what material it was made of. The rectangular table was filled with utensils that Salin didn't recognize, all kinds of utensils of strange shapes, and a crucible with black flames burning underneath. There was only one chair around the table, and several cabinets were standing against the wall, filled with things.

Salin didn't recognize anything. He only saw mysterious symbols everywhere, crystal lamps hanging from the ceiling, casting soft light, but no light and shadow could be seen.

The magician looked up and said gently, "Salin, you're awake. Make yourself something to eat, and then we'll talk."

"Teacher, you go first. I'm not hungry yet," Sarin stood obediently by the table, feeling anxious.

"Okay, then I'll start. My name is Jason Stanson, a five-level mage from the Qin Empire. As my student, I cannot give you too much guidance because I don't have that much time. I will first teach you a reading spell, which is a 0-level spell. If you can master this spell, I will teach you the principles of meditation. Then you can read magic books and learn magic on your own. I won't give you any further guidance until you become a 10th level apprentice."

"10th level apprentice?" Sarin asked cautiously, not understanding what it meant.

"Magic apprentices have 10 levels in total. During the apprentice stage, you can only master 0-level spells. 0-level spells can be cast without magic strings, as long as you have sufficient mental strength and corresponding elemental affinity. The size of your mental strength determines your ability to control magic, and elemental affinity determines how many spells you can cast continuously. If either one is insufficient, you cannot become a real mage."

"So how do I advance to the next level?"

"A 1st level apprentice can cast two 0-level spells continuously, a 2nd level apprentice can cast four 0-level spells continuously, and so on. When you can cast twenty 0-level spells continuously, I will guide you on how to become a mage. Okay, now I will teach you the first 0-level spell." Mage Jason spoke and recited a spell with a strange syllable. At the same time, he made a fixed magic gesture with his hands.

"You can learn the knowledge of writing and magic from books by following this spell," Jason repeated the spell again and again as Sarin followed along. After three repetitions, Sarin was able to recite the spell word for word without any mistakes, and his hand gestures were also correct.

"Alright, go practice on your own. Once you've succeeded, I'll teach you the rules of meditation. Then you can read the books I have prepared for you. Start with the first room, and don't move on to the next until you have finished all the books in this room," said Jason.

"Yes, teacher," Sarin bowed respectfully, as if he were meeting a noble in the city of Silan.

Jason shook his head, thinking that etiquette could be dealt with later. He didn't correct Sarin's behavior and waved his hand to dismiss him.

Sarin left the room and headed to the kitchen. He found the box where rice and flour were stored, but he was starving, so he just grabbed the dried meat hanging on the wall and ate it happily with bread and water.

As he ate, he recalled the magic he had just learned. He found both the incantation and the hand gestures easy to remember. In particular, he had memorized the incantation after the first repetition, and the subsequent two were just for correcting his pronunciation. It seemed that he had talent, or at least wasn't stupid. Thinking about this, Sarin felt that his future was bright.