Chapter 111: Fear

Seeing that Lehman was absent, Borne sought out Viscount Gordon.

“Are you Master Borne Eolam?”

At that moment, a blond-haired, blue-eyed old gnome with a small mustache appeared from nearby. Gordon looked somewhat troubled just by his presence.

“Master?”

Borne frowned slightly at the elderly gnome before him; he was indifferent to this new title. He bore no prejudice against slaves, but suddenly having someone step forward and block his path left him mildly displeased.

“This is Jebido Beren Grayforge,” Gordon quickly explained. “He’s very interested in these blueprints you made and has been pestering to meet you.”

Gordon hurried to clarify, knowing this fellow was a treasure. It would be a pity if Borne lost his temper and did away with him on the spot.

Borne glanced at Gordon in surprise. Although the treatment of gnomes had improved somewhat, the annual death toll among gnomes in Nather was no less than that of the slums. He hadn’t expected his father to go out of his way to explain.

Thanks to Viscount Gordon’s information, Borne immediately understood.

Every gnome bore many names because throughout their growth, parents, uncles, aunts, and even elders would each bestow a name. Nearly anyone could name a gnome, and each name could be considered his own.

Gnome names were usually slight alterations of ancestors’ or distant relatives’ names, while some were original creations. Thus, every gnome carried a multitude of names—some larger gnome tribes had individuals with hundreds of names.

Due to this naming peculiarity, when gnomes introduced themselves to other races, they typically selected three names as their public identity: their given name, clan name, and nickname. For casual acquaintances, only the surname was shared; closer friends learned the given name, and intimates were entrusted with nicknames.

To reveal all three names at once indicated a high level of trust or respect.

That Viscount Gordon could recall the full name of this slave was impressive. Borne had to look earnestly at the elderly gnome holding the blueprints he had drawn. This old gnome was indeed an architectural master, having discerned the subtle genius in Borne’s design. He clearly possessed some skill.

“If you ask who designed these blueprints, then yes, it was me,” Borne said.

Though aware that the designer was a very young noble from Nather, Grayforge was still stunned upon meeting him in person.

When he first saw the dome-shaped structure, Grayforge was astonished. Such a dome was not something built easily; it involved complex architectural knowledge and principles of mechanics.

At first, he’d assumed it was designed by one of his own kind, but it turned out to be a Nather noble.

Grayforge was incredulous and held even deeper disdain for the Nathereil. Throughout his life, the Nathereil had stolen their achievements and repackaged them as their own far too often.

However, upon receiving the internal blueprints, he confirmed the design was truly by the Nathereil. While results could be plagiarized, design concepts and styles could not be imitated. As a master architect himself, he could immediately tell the genuine from the counterfeit. This blueprint had to have come from this young Nathereil before him.

Grayforge’s expression turned solemn as he bowed with gnomish etiquette to Borne.

Borne’s demeanor shifted. This was a unique gnomish ritual, used only among gnomes and reserved for those of high status or deep respect.

He hastened to return the bow with noble etiquette. This gesture astonished Grayforge, who silently nodded in approval.

The two then exchanged knowing smiles and began discussing the design concepts in the blueprints with remarkable synergy.

Those nearby looked on, bewildered—especially Viscount Gordon, who found it perplexing. Though the old gnome was skilled, he was still a slave. Fortunately, everyone present was an ally, so no harm would come. They also understood that Borne’s behavior had a deeper meaning.

Grayforge’s bow was not directed at Borne personally, but at the knowledge itself. The structural design and methods on the blueprints were entirely distinct from gnomish designs.

They were practical yet aesthetically pleasing—a completely new design philosophy, seemingly mature and systematic, inspiring endless creativity.

It gave the old gnome a sensation akin to “hearing the Way in the morning and dying content by evening.”

Knowledge was equal and the noblest of all. Grayforge was simply paying homage to knowledge. He never expected Borne to recognize this silent accord immediately. This unspoken understanding shattered his prejudice. After all, this was no ordinary Nathereil; he was an arcanist!

...

This winter had arrived earlier than usual, and Kelly’s mood was as gloomy as the cursed weather.

Since Anderson’s expulsion, several of his close followers had been kicked out of the enforcement squad. Having benefited from Anderson’s leadership, they were now bearing the consequences alongside him.

With Anderson’s downfall, their family status plummeted sharply, and their claims to inheritance were directly revoked. Borne had played a significant role in this outcome.

The only good news was that they still retained membership in the Arcane Society and were due to graduate in a few months. Holding this status meant they could secure decent positions across various departments in Nather, and even stage a comeback wasn’t impossible.

But life before graduation was difficult. Though not expelled, they were marginalized within the Arcane Society. The saying “once gone, the tea cools” barely described their isolation—it was more like everyone turned their backs on them. Still, it wasn’t outright betrayal.

Under Anderson’s indulgence, they had abused their power in the enforcement squad, making many enemies and reaping benefits, even offending members of the Arcane Society. Their fate was deserved.

Many had petitioned President Rispel to expel them from the Arcane Society altogether, but the president showed mercy, leaving them a sliver of hope.

Kelly tightened her cloak, glanced back at the mage tower, and slowly headed toward the dormitories.

She tried to stay on the main path. As dusk approached, fewer students were around, making her nervous. She clutched the folds of her robe tightly, eyes filled with fear.

For about a month, she had felt as if something was watching her.

At first, she thought it was some secret admirer. This was plausible, as she was in a low point in her life—the perfect time for a suitor’s pursuit.

She had even instructed her magical pet, a raven, to keep watch and catch this “admirer.” But the next day, her pet was found dead outside under a tree, surrounded by a pool of blood and a few raven feathers.

The final vision from the pet was blurry, but it seemed to be a person—or perhaps more like a monster.

Kelly was terrified. Ignoring the strain on her mental energy, she quickly contacted McCarthy and Gerard.

Gerard was in the experimental zone, but McCarthy was nowhere to be found. Kelly checked the mission hall but found no record of McCarthy taking any assignments or leaving the academy. He had vanished within the academy itself!

Vanished...

A student from Giles Academy had mysteriously disappeared inside the school!

That night, Kelly rented the smallest public laboratory under the pretense of an experiment.

Using the mage tower’s laboratories required gold coins or points, but after losing her heir status, her family benefits were cut off.

Fortunately, she still had some savings to get by for a while.

(PS: Of course no cutting corners! Those familiar with the timeline know how early this is!

Regular updates guaranteed—at least one chapter per update. If time permits, more will come. The author must also earn a living and can only write during off-hours. Please understand!

Please recommend! Many thanks!)