Chapter 63: Name

"Are you not going to the Turaleone Forest with me?" Ruya frowned at Asa, her disappointment and surprise evident on her face like a child.

Asa patted her head and smiled wryly, saying, "I have important matters to return to the capital for. Besides, you've met Lord Theodorus; he's a good friend of your elven race. General Grutt will surely be able to escort you there safely."

Ruya let out an "Oh" and nodded at the tall, seemingly human man beside her.

"Are you really comfortable handing the World Tree Leaf and her over to me like this?" General Grutt looked at Asa and asked flatly. His sculpted, coldly handsome face carried an ever-present, faint air of authority.

Asa smiled, "I can't think of anyone safer than you as a bodyguard."

Grutt replied indifferently, "Bodyguard? Do you know what's most important for a bodyguard?"

"What is it?"

"It's trust." A flash of light appeared in General Grutt's eyes. "This is an object that everyone dreams of possessing. Last time it was used on you was unavoidable. Our personal relationship doesn't seem strong enough for this. Let me clarify: I just happened to kill two necromancers on my way to visit the Dwarf King. I didn't intend to help you. Do you really trust me this much?"

Asa chuckled and replied, "If you really wanted it, you could easily take it by force. But I feel that you won't."

"Feelings? Don't you use your brain to judge?" Grutt continued to look at him coldly. "Even if I'm not interested, perhaps Theodorus might be; he's a mage. Even if we're not interested, such a magical item might be useful to Orford. If that's the case, we both have to be interested. Even then, do you still trust me?"

Asa frowned, thought for a moment, then sighed. He looked into General Grutt's calm, dark eyes and smiled, "I trust you. Because aside from trusting you, I have no other option."

Grutt didn't speak again, merely staring coldly at Asa. His dark eyes showed no hint of emotion, as if they were a pool of frozen ink.

After a while, a flicker of change finally appeared on his sculpted face. Although it seemed somewhat mocking, the corners of his long mouth lifted slightly, and his dark eyes narrowed a bit. He took out a teleportation scroll from his pocket and handed it to Asa. "This is the scroll for the teleportation array in your capital. It was originally given to us by your emperor to facilitate our visits. Use this if you're in a hurry."

"This is perfect! I was worried about not having enough time, but now I will," Asa said, thrilled as he accepted the scroll.

"Hey, hey." Ruya stood behind Asa and tugged at his hand. "You see, even this person says he can't be trusted. Why do you still believe him?"

"Ha ha, trust is just a feeling. Because I've fought with him, I can sense that he's not that kind of person."

"So you trust me just because I almost killed you once?" General Grutt looked at him, his smile deepening a bit.

"Exactly! Hahaha…" Asa laughed heartily, holding the teleportation scroll and looking at the gray sky above the basin. He hadn't felt this happy in a long time.

In the meeting room of Dehya Valley, two necromancers supported the faintly breathing Master Aiden, who had been found lying in the teleportation magic array. His entire right arm and half of his shoulder were completely missing, and there was a deep, thick wound beneath his right ribcage.

The pure white magical light floated around Master Aiden. Under the dual effects of the high-level healing spells "Phoenix Rebirth" and "Divine Grace," his pale face finally regained some color.

"This isn't damage caused by magic, nor can I tell what kind of weapon made this. If that wound had moved even a fraction to the left, he would definitely not have returned," one necromancer said, carefully examining Aiden's injury. The bleeding had completely stopped, and new flesh was beginning to heal the wound. Aside from the Pope, only Dehya Valley could provide the treatment of two nearly top-tier white mages.

"Did he return alone?" one necromancer asked hoarsely. Since this rare meeting had occurred, most necromancers had yet to leave Dehya Valley. If those two members skilled in healing magic had left, Master Aiden would have been doomed.

"He returned alone. I wonder how Aisri is doing…"

"Aisri is dead." Master Aiden opened his eyes with great effort and gasped, "We intercepted that kid together in Kalendor, but he suddenly had a helper who attacked from behind and killed Aisri…"

"What?" "What kind of person was it?" The necromancers were astonished.

"I… I don't know what kind of person it was; I didn't see," Master Aiden struggled to say. The two top sorcerers of the age, with one being killed and the other escaping with half a life, hadn't even seen their opponent. It was almost a joke.

However, the necromancers did not laugh. They all knew each other's strength. The atmosphere in the meeting room was unusually heavy. This was a group that considered themselves at the pinnacle of the world, but they had discovered that there was someone who could handle them as easily as squashing a bug.

"What about Inham?" Master Aiden surveyed his colleagues. "He is the only one who understands that kid. That helper and that kid must be familiar with each other; why hasn't he ever mentioned it? He's hiding too much from us." After saying so much in one breath, Master Aiden gasped for air.

"He has already gone to kill Ronis," a necromancer said flatly.

"By himself?" The emotional upheaval nearly caused Master Aiden to faint. Ronis had been a master of white magic and air magic for over twenty years, recognized as the foremost mage in the church. With the former guild's deputy president, Sandru, these two working together would likely require everyone present to join in to have any guarantee of success.

"Of course, we have also made some preparations for him in the church and other aspects." The necromancer supporting Master Aiden cast a temporary enhancement spell on him. "Although we don't know exactly what he plans to do, Inham wouldn't undertake a reckless act."

"Alas, so much upheaval and change have happened during this time…" The old necromancer coughed laboriously, his struggles making it seem as if he might cough out his lungs. "I really miss the time when Sandru and Agrenel were still here…" After a pause, he adjusted his breathing and slowly said, "Perhaps we should elect a deputy president…"

Master Aiden's expression darkened significantly, not only because of his injuries. He knew that this position was probably out of his reach.

Asa ran swiftly, treading on the soft black soil. He breathed in the air filled with the scent of char and iron, listening to the sounds of hammers and the shouts of dwarves in the tavern.

He had never found this air so wonderful before, never felt the overcast sky above to be so beautiful. This was the air he had breathed for twenty years, under the sky he had lived beneath for twenty years. In such a sky and air, it felt as if no magical fluctuations could occur, and no conspiracy could grow in the hearts of men. Everything here was so peaceful.

After running for half a day from outside the basin, he finally returned to the impoverished, dilapidated little village. The familiar scenery unfolded before him.

The bun shop that he often visited was still wedged between the grocery store and the armor shop. The two kids buying things seemed to be from the miner's family at the back of the village, and they had grown quite a bit since then. The one-eyed blacksmith's wife was drawing water from the well, and two bricks were still missing from the well's edge. He remembered that one of the bricks was something he had pulled off during a fight when he was ten, using it as a weapon to bash a bully's head, but it had broken in the process. The old carpenter, who always looked down on him, still had that big rock at his door, and even the marks from when he had urinated on it as a child seemed faintly visible. The door to that girl's house, the one who always invited him to eat, was shut tight, with a missing wooden board still visible...

"I'm back!" Asa shouted. His voice echoed in the foggy sky. The villagers looked at him in surprise, and someone recognized him. "Hey, it's that blacksmith's bastard son. He actually came back."

The ten or so gold coins in his pocket felt heavy. He had specifically asked General Grutt for these. His father's honest, dull face floated in his mind, plain and unremarkable. It seemed that once the concepts of being an honest man and a blacksmith were clarified, there was nothing more memorable about him. But after venturing through the turbulent world for so long, he realized that this plain face was the most familiar and comforting.

What would his father's expression be when he saw the money that could buy all the things in his shop? Would he be excited? But in his memories, his father never seemed to express such emotions. He would probably still just ask if he had eaten, then take out the cold porridge or bread he always seemed to have on hand.

Finally, he reached the end of the village, and the familiar house appeared before him. Asa was struck dumb.

This place, which he had imagined would be warm and welcoming, now looked so strange. The tools that his father always kept outside under the grass shed were nowhere to be seen. The shed had collapsed in large parts, and the furnace was covered in moss due to the dampness of the basin, indicating it hadn't been used in a long time. The door was tightly shut, the roof was broken, and dust covered everything, showing that no one had lived here for quite some time.

Asa stood in front of the door for a while before reaching out to push it. The door creaked and slowly opened.

The furnishings inside hadn't changed; the weapon rack was still there, but it was empty. The dining table was still in the corner, and the stool that his father had repaired after he broke it was still under the table, with the familiar, simple furniture covered in dust.

At the other side of the village, a lonely small house leaned against the hillside, and an old woman was sitting in front of the house reading a book. She had long brown hair and a thin face. It was clear that she must have been a rare beauty in her youth, but there was an aura about her that set her apart from other women. Suddenly looking up from her book, she saw Asa running towards her.

"You're back?" The old woman closed her book and stood up. "I know you have questions for me. Come inside."

The small house was just as tidy as Asa remembered from his childhood. Books and mementos from various adventures were neatly arranged. Asa anxiously asked, "Grandma El, where did my father go..."

"He is dead." Grandma El sat down in a chair and answered softly.

Those three words blew away all thoughts in his mind. Asa was stunned.

"Not long after you left, people came from the mine. They said you stole iron ore from the mine. Your father didn't say anything and sold all the goods in the house to pay for it. He even went to work at the smelter. Three days later, while pouring steel, he didn't notice a dead rat in the crucible. When the steel poured onto it, the rat exploded, splattering molten steel that burned his eyes. Although he survived, he couldn't care for himself, relying on the villagers for help. His health deteriorated day by day, and he finally died two months ago. I went to see him; it was the result of years of hard labor that couldn't be treated."

"How could this happen…" Asa squatted down, cradling his head in his hands. He felt as if his mind was filled with everything yet nothing at all.

Grandma El looked at him and sighed deeply. She turned and took a ring out of a drawer. "This is what your father left for you. He said it was placed on you when he found you."

"What do you mean?" Asa, still dazed, could barely process her words. "Found me?"

"You're not your father's biological child. His wife passed away long time ago. You were left at the village entrance one night, and he took you in." Grandma El's face and voice were calm, but each word sent Asa's world spinning.

His father's grave was not far outside the village. Like his life, it was an unremarkable mound of earth, so plain that one could easily forget it, with a tombstone that was roughly inscribed with his father's name. The villagers believed that the son who had run away would never return.

Asa half-squatted, half-knelt before the grave, his hands resting on the cold, lifeless earth, his eyes closed, not moving. Grandma El stood behind him, watching him in silence.

After a long time, Asa finally spoke softly, "I've always longed to leave this place. All my time and energy were spent on how to escape this damned place. In the end, I did get out. But the outside world has left me confused, and I don't know what to do. Now that I look back, I realize... why did I even want to leave here?"

His voice caught, and he couldn't continue.

Grandma El gently said, "I asked your father why he wanted to help you leave this place. He said he wouldn't ask for anything in return; he just wanted you to do whatever you wanted to do. You're doing what you wanted now, aren't you?"

"There are many things I don't want to do... but I have no choice... when it comes to reality, I'm powerless…"

"Think of your father. He was an extremely ordinary man, who forged a sword for you to run away with. What could he gain from it? What would happen if you really left? Yet he still chose to do it." Grandma El gently patted Asa's shoulder. "Like your father, do what you want to do."

After a moment of silence, Asa let out a sigh that sounded like a groan and said, "I understand. I won't let him down; I will do my best to accomplish what I want to do." He took the ring and put it on his left hand. The ring looked ordinary, but Asa could sense that it was a very rare magical item.

"Your father said your name is engraved on that ring. But I think it doesn't seem to be."

Asa examined it closely. The smooth surface of the ring had faint patterns engraved on it. The engravings were very subtle, but Asa recognized that they were not in his name. He had seen this kind of symbol before; it was not the empire's common script but an ancient language that only high-level mages could master. To his father, who wasn't well-versed in reading, it would naturally look like other characters that resembled those shapes.

The origin of his name turned out to be such a misunderstanding.

"You should take a closer look; perhaps you can find your real parents and your real name from this."

"No need." Asa turned his hand, rubbing the smooth surface of the ring against the tombstone. The faint engravings were wiped away with the friction against the stone. "My father is right here. This is my name."