After driving away that death-seeking youngster, Malin found himself with nothing to do.
He wanted to learn spell formations, but the spell instructors had already been banned by Old Hoffman: whoever dared teach Malin a spell would be hung from the tower for an entire week.
Considering a certain squirrel had already been hung there for a day, Malin didn’t want to have the cheek to plead with the instructors—it wasn’t about charming them to obtain a spell anymore; it would an selling their lives.
Better forget about it. Squirrel Instructor Minsk Pavbris ignored Malin for several days because of this, and in the end, it was only with buttered popcorn that Malin managed to bribe him again. However, the squirrel flatly refused to teach higher-order spell formations, and Malin did not press further.
Since he couldn’t learn spell formations, Malin thought about going to the training field, only to find out that there weren’t many people who could spar with him anymore—except for Sword Dancer Instructor Monica GreenSea. However, Instructor Monica often helped out at the Elven Comrce Guild, and as she put it, although Malin’s martial skills were not bad, his lineage made him too dependent on strength. Elven sword dancing sought speed, not swinging a sword to send sothing flying.
Until Malin understood the true aning of sword dancing, she wouldn’t take him to partake in Elven missions.
So in the end, Malin was left with no choice but to start writing novels: transplanting the Sherlock Hols detective series was out of the question. This world had its peculiarities, so adaptations were necessary, or else even the National Publishing House would not approve it—and frankly, before Malin ca to this world, he never imagined his love for reading would bring him such an opportunity.
How wonderful it is to plagiarize.
Matilda showed no sign of sadness as if the poor fellow abandoned due to old age was not her. After going out with Faye, she ca back dressed in a maid outfit.
The bold black dress paired with a white apron, lovely little leather boots, along with her long tail and petite body... She truly looked like an adorable little fox spirit.
Let’s leave all the dishes to her tonight.
.........
That being said, after dinner, Malin still sent the girls to the living room to rest and washed the dishes together with Matilda.
"Speaking of which, Master Malin really doesn’t seem like a master. In my mory, no Transcendent ever washed dishes themselves," Matilda said while wiping the plates, her technique in stark contrast to her words.
Malin chuckled and took over a bowl to wash: "A year ago, before I was picked up by my foster father, I was nearly starving to death, so I don’t think I’m much of a master, nor do I believe that becoming a Transcendent ans I’m naturally nobler than those who can’t obtain transcendental abilities."
"Huh, didn’t you go to the Church of Justice’s Alms Food Court? During winter, the Church of Justice provides a full al every day for all the orphans and street beggars in town." Matilda looked at Malin with a furrowed brow: "Mr. Malin, are you dominated by the boredom of maintaining appearances?"
I didn’t even know the way.
Malin muttered, then nodded sowhat awkwardly: "Yes, I am able-bodied, and I didn’t want to fight for food with those who were missing arms or legs."
His remark left Matilda silent for a mont, and she eventually sighed, "If everyone were like you, Mr. Malin, there wouldn’t be so many shaless scoundrels in the world."
"If there were no evil in the world, then you guys wouldn’t have a reason to exist, would you?" Malin asked Matilda.
The little fox shook her head: "If there were no evil in the world, we would willingly face disappearance; but because such a perfect world is not possible, that’s why we exist."
Matilda spoke softly, but Malin heard her clearly. He replied understandingly, "Yes, a sage from foreign lands once said that everyone has to pay the price for their choices, evil people included, and so do we." He replaced the dirty bowl in his hands and looked out at the night sky: "I once had a dream, Matilda, a dream you have surely never encountered."
"What kind of dream?" Matilda asked curiously, still diligently washing dishes.
"I dread of a strange world with giant iron birds flying in the sky and steel creations carrying people at full speed, where people could eat their fill just by working hard. There were no Spirits, no different kinds."
"Wow, that sounds amazing. I’ve indeed never dread sothing like that because it’s too beautiful," Matilda said with a smile.
Malin sighed: "All that beauty was bought with the lives of the forebears in that world, and I, too, think what they did was saintly. So died for the innocent to live, others for the fulfillnt of their ideals, and so for the advancent of justice... Matilda, in my heart, heroes are not those towering statues but those who fight for the innocent, die for Truth, willingly stain their hands with blood for beliefs, and sacrifice their lives for the younglings’ survival."
"You know, Matilda," Malin turned to the girl before him, "back in that world, when I was very young, I made a vow to be that kind of person... Even if the dream fades, I still hold to that vow, so I miss the dream’s beauty and face the harsh reality without fear. Different people may have different views, my vision of what’s beautiful might seem like hell to soone else, but I will still believe in it because I made that vow."
Malin’s words rendered Matilda silent again, then she smiled and nodded, "Alright, Malin, then I will look forward to witnessing it."
After finishing, Matilda lowered her head. As she continued working diligently, she squinted her eyes... Mr. Malin, the prophets of the Church said you are the bearer of the torch, they said you will lead everyone through the dark tis, ensuring the innocent are not engulfed by darkness.
Bishop believed in that prophecy and asked to follow you, to witness it becoming reality.
I don’t believe in prophecies.
Because I believe in heroes, but I believe even more in the mortals of this world. Only countless people as noble as Instructor can save this broken world.
But today, Matilda bore witness to a mortal, said to be a firebearer, making such a noble vow.
She suddenly felt that Mr. Malin was incredibly handso. Could this be what Faye refers to as love?
At that thought, Matilda flicked her tail.
The Justice Maiden, a child’s plaything, well, it’s better not done at all.
.........
The do-nothing days always pass quickly. Winter ended in the blink of an eye, and it beca the hunting season—the hunt was not like Malin’s last visit to Faye’s hunting grounds. That ti they hunted the fattest prey of autumn, but in spring, they hunted the Spirits that had awakened.
Hungry all winter, these Spirits, upon awakening, would instinctively select their food, regardless of what that food might consist of.
Therefore, various Churches and guilds would organize people to go into villages and the wilderness to carry out the hunting of Spirits.
This was a major event, and it was also very dangerous, for the wild Spirits were a mixed bag. Every year at least one apprentice team t their demise during such hunts.
Malin, being a first-year, wasn’t required to participate, but with the consent of old Hoffman, he was able to join Faye’s team.
For their route, Faye chose the northeastern plains as the team’s hunting ground—a true mix of areas, ranging from zombies, which barely pose a difficulty level of one, to Chaos invasion squads, which are a steep challenge of at least level five, sothing that regular apprentice teams wouldn’t even dream of facing.
But the composition of Faye’s team was really excellent, and with Malin added to the mix, she decided to take this route.
Malin looked over the team organization; the Mages were first—Faye, Lillim, Clovis, and the great safety net, Maya.
Beyond that, among the ranged Archers, Maya’s crossbow skills were improving with each play. Two Dwarven girls from Faye’s class, carrying Firearms, walked in the middle of the team. Malin knew them; they were a pair of decent Archers.
For the lee fighters, Faye had brought everyone from her class, and to this, Malin could only say that having dozens of close combatants was excessive, but still not enough to cut down every pesky Spirit—and more people ant more targets that clever ambush-type Spirits would likely avoid.
Together with Malin, the team could be said to be very luxurious. Furthermore, Malin had organized the team a bit. Naturally, he led the way. He walked at the very front accompanied by two Dwarven Shield fighters—these Dwarves carried shields as tall as themselves, carried hand axes at their waists, and held Revolvers in their right hands.
Faye’s classmates were responsible for protecting the flanks and the rear. Their task was to protect the girls in the middle of the team, and they would join the fight when large-scale combat ensued.
Faye, standing with the girls at the rear rank, had only one thing to do: drown everything that dared to resist with all manner of Spell Formations.
In Malin’s imagination, the Spirits would surge like a tide, but in reality, although there were many Spirits, most were animal Spirits, mostly "skin and bones" and seemingly harmless. More often than not, they attacked out of starvation upon seeing the group, but they were usually felled before they could even get close to the team.
And the few that did get close t Malin—not using his Firearm, but wielding a small twig, poking out one eye after another.
"I’m starting to understand what Xingyan ant when he said hunting with you felt like a stroll in the park," the Dwarf comnted, looking down at the corpses.
Malin smiled and then noticed a small figure rushing over. He hurriedly raised the twig to strike at the small yellow blur, but it dodged and weaved before jumping in front of him.
It was a squirrel, which leaped up and down in front of Malin.
"It’s a Spirit. Why isn’t it attacking?" a curious onlooker asked, having noticed the scene.
Malin laughed and shook his head, "Who knows."
Then, as if thinking of sothing, he bent down, "Are you... the pet of that Half-human from before?"
The little squirrel hopped a bit then gazed at Malin.
Malin thought for a mont and then extended his hand.
The little squirrel jumped onto Malin’s hand, and only then did Malin feel its weight.
It was very light.
Apparently, it was starving.
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