Chapter 4: Temple? Danger!

It was the morning of the third day.

Felix sat in a spacious and magnificent carriage, with a narrow box placed by his side. Ellisitan City was about fourteen days' journey from the capital, Titanian, but only six if you took shortcuts and pushed the horses hard.

The Titans Empire was like a massive war machine. This colossal machine had been operating for a full three hundred years, expanding the empire's territory up the Nissia River to the southern part of the western continent. A problem inherent in such large empires was the fragmentation of power, with local nobles maintaining their own armies.

If you study the history of the Titans Empire, you'll notice an interesting pattern. Whenever internal conflicts reached a certain point, the empire would wage wars abroad. During these times, some 'old guard' 'stubborn' noble families would fall, their clans declining irreversibly. In their place, rising nobles would assume their positions and continue to serve the emperor.

...

It was about three years ago, or the third Sunday after Felix had taken over this body.

It was a bright morning. After finishing his tedious lessons in noble etiquette, Felix had gone hunting in the forest owned by the Fairmuth family. This was one of his few remaining 'freedoms,' as hunting was an essential pastime for nobles.

Then, he encountered a dark mage.

More precisely, he encountered a half-undead, gravely wounded dark mage pursued by the church.

Unlike the stories that wandering poets would tell, Felix didn't save him, nor did he hand him over to the church for glory. Prioritizing his own survival, he immediately drew his hand crossbow and shot the mage, who had opened his mouth to speak, in the head.

Most dark mages worshiped "Chaos and Evil." Simply put, these spellcasters who defiled souls and bodies had no morals.

Acting out of self-preservation, when left without allies, eliminate danger at its inception. - Fairmuth Family Precept, Number 165.

The greatest victory is when your enemy is dead, and you are alive. - Fairmuth Family Precept, Number 273.

The Fairmuth family had 365 precepts in total, and the first thing any literate Fairmuth would do was commit all 365 to memory.

The dark mage's possessions were valuable, but Felix could only use five: "Three-dimensional Analysis of Magical Webs," "Basic Arcane Laws and Formation Guide," "Introduction to Shadow Alchemy," "Advanced Black Magic Guide," and the dark mage's corpse.

Felix didn't have the magical power or knowledge to decipher the runic markings in the "Advanced Black Magic Guide," nor could he turn the dark mage's corpse into a powerful skeletal mage. So, he locked them in the box and buried it under a field of golden sunflowers.

When he left, he still chose to risk taking them with him, as his available power was very limited.

The carriage ride was smooth, with thick goose-feather carpets and luxurious Oaklandia velvet quilts, which ensured that even during vigorous activity inside the carriage, no unusual noises would escape. In this respect, the nobles of Ellisitan City outdid their counterparts in the capital.

Evidently, Count Visak hadn't thought of providing Felix with a warm maid. The person responsible for attending to Felix's needs was the old butler's nephew, a fellow who killed one's appetite at a glance.

It was a minor tragedy.

Apart from this little tragedy, there were many 'interesting' incidents along the way. However, these 'interesting' episodes turned into tragedies with the intervention of sixty family knights clad in anti-magic heavy armor. Clearly, such 'chemical reactions' caused by human intervention always added a touch of comedy.

It was the evening of the third day.

Due to an incident that occurred in the afternoon, the convoy did not reach the next town as planned. In the evening, as if to cool the dry heat of early autumn, a torrential downpour began.

Fortunately, a scout knight found an abandoned temple for them to take shelter in, avoiding the danger of flash floods and mudslides that would come with camping at the foot of the mountain. Even a great knight might not survive a mudslide.

"Master Felix, I need your help," said Yaxi Saul, the only great knight in the convoy, coming up to Felix with a respectful tone.

To be fair, without any bias, Felix's handsomeness and elegance easily won the friendliness and favor of others.

"Knight, you can just call me Felix. By age, you're still my senior." Felix rose gracefully and calmly. He knew that the knight standing before him was his biggest safeguard in life, and he knew how to win his favor.

With a somewhat melancholy sigh, Felix whispered, "I'm just an inconsequential pawn, you don't need to be so formal with me."

Indeed, this statement earned him the sympathy of Yaxi Saul, the central knight. As an outsider, all Saul could do was sigh for Felix. He, too, was a low-born knight, and he understood Felix's pain and sorrow.

Good nobles never come across as overly sentimental. Felix donned his robe and slowly entered the main hall of the crumbling temple. It had already been cleaned by other knights, who had laid down blankets on the floor and set up a pile of firewood in the center of the hall. However, due to the rain, the wood was wet and the knights couldn't light it on their own.

"Evaporate."

After dispelling the moisture from the wood, Felix incanted another spell, "Flame."

The knights escorting Felix were all poor knights who had retired from the southern battlefield. Their hands were stained with the blood of the jungle barbarians, and they didn't even need squires. These low-born knights knew more about fighting and survival than the noble knights did.

The knights watched Felix leave with respect, simply out of reverence for the spellcaster. Those who grew up on the battlefield knew very well how powerful they could be under the protection of a spellcaster, and how much higher their chances of survival would be.

A knight's power comes from firm faith, a warrior's power comes from the will to survive, and a spellcaster's power comes from wisdom and knowledge.

A qualified knight is definitely an excellent warrior, but an excellent warrior may not necessarily become a qualified knight.

Pursuing physical power doesn't require much wisdom, but because of this, physical power can never reach the height of spiritual power. Humanity's greatest power lies in the brain, not the limbs. It's inevitable.

And so, spellcasters' superiority comes from this.

In fact, every spellcaster's ultimate goal is to dissect the gods, whether in spirit or in flesh, even though they devoutly believe in the higher gods.

The dinner prepared by the servants was not delicious, especially the bad-tasting wine, which ruined Felix's appetite. With no appetite, Felix decided to observe the ruined temple as he had noticed something interesting in the main hall.

The deity worshiped in this temple was likely not one of the active major gods of today, but rather a powerful entity from another plane or an ancient god that fell in struggle.

The broken statue revealed that the worshiped deity was female, and unlike other gods whose appearance closely resembled humans, her legs were long, her feet were hoofed, and there was a protrusion on her buttocks, which Felix thought was originally a tail.

Wait! A tail!?

Felix was taken aback, looking up to examine the head of the statue carefully, trying to find the location of a horn among the mottled traces.

"Hopefully not," Felix thought to himself. If this temple indeed worshiped a deity from that race, then camping here was an incredibly foolish decision!

Even the powerful god of light would likely not want any interaction with the deities of that race; it would not be a pleasant memory...