Chapter 131 part 2: The Price of Saving a City (2)

Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the window, casting light onto the floor.

Lia leaned against the headboard, a heavy magic book in her hands.

Her gaze, however, did not fall upon the pages, but instead drifted toward the single-seater sofa on the other side of the room.

Klein was sitting there.

He held a cup of freshly brewed black tea, the steam curling upward and obscuring half of his face.

It had been three days since their return to the Farrien estate.

During these three days, Lia felt as though she had returned to the time when she had first transmigrated and was still an infant.

She was waited on hand and foot.

Even to go to the bathroom, a certain Eighth-Circle Great Mage insisted on standing guard at the door, claiming it was to prevent her from falling.

Lia closed the book, the pages meeting with a sharp snap.

Klein set down his teacup and looked up.

“Thirsty?”

He stood up, naturally lifting the teapot to pour a glass of warm water before walking to the bedside to hand it to her.

Lia took the glass but didn’t drink.

“I think I’m better now.”

She placed the glass on the nightstand, threw back the quilt, and stepped onto the floor.

“My head isn’t spinning anymore, my mana circuits are stable, and while my spiritual power isn’t at a hundred percent, it’s recovered at least seventy or eighty percent.”

She stood tall and did a quick spin on the spot, showing off her healthy physique.

“So, is the imprisonment lifted?”

Klein looked at her.

His blue eyes swept over the contours of her body.

“Sit down.”

…

Lia took a deep breath and sat back on the edge of the bed.

“Be reasonable; I’m a mage, not a porcelain doll. That bit of mental overextension can be fixed with a few good nights’ sleep.”

“That was overextension?”

Klein walked over to her, looking down from his height.

“That was depletion.”

He reached out and tapped the air in front of Lia’s forehead.

“Your mana source nearly shattered, and your spiritual sea was as dry as a desert. If the rescue hadn’t been timely, you would be a drooling idiot right now.”

Lia pouted.

“That was also to save you.”

“Which is why I am fulfilling the contract.”

Klein withdrew his hand, sat back on the sofa, and picked up his tea.

“Until I am certain there are absolutely no issues, you are staying here.”

Lia collapsed back onto her pillow, staring blankly at the ceiling.

This was no way to live.

While the feeling of being taken care of in every aspect wasn’t bad—one might even say it was quite enjoyable—to someone accustomed to being busy, every idle second was a form of torture.

Furthermore, this guy was keeping too close a watch.

Even the account books the butler brought in had to be inspected by him first, for fear of them carrying some sort of curse.

Just as Lia was considering whether to use the excuse of ‘wanting a dessert from that shop in the south with the three-hour queue’ to send Klein away, there was a knock on the door.

The rhythm was light and tentative.

Klein set down his teacup.

“Enter.”

The door was pushed open, and the old butler walked in.

He first glanced at Lia leaning on the bed, and only after confirming his young lady was decently dressed did he let out a sigh of relief and turn to bow to Klein.

“Lord, Miss.”

The old butler held a gold-stamped invitation in his hand.

“Someone has come from the City Lord’s manor.”

Lia sat up straight in bed.

“Who?”

“It is Count Valerius’s butler.”

The old butler stepped forward, presenting the invitation with both hands.

“He says the Count has awakened, and after two days of rest, his spirit is much better. He specifically sent the butler to deliver a thank-you gift and to invite you both to the manor the day after tomorrow for a talk.”

Lia took the invitation.

It bore the crest of the Valerius family; the handwriting was a bit shaky, showing the writer lacked strength, yet the strokes remained sharp.

It was written by Valerius himself.

Lia opened it and took a look.

The content was very official, filled with noble pleasantries and gratitude. The central theme was simple: I owe you my life, I will never forget it, please do me the honor of letting me make you some money.

Lia closed the invitation, the corners of her mouth turning up.

“It seems our Count has a very resilient spirit.”

That day in the catacombs, Valerius had his leg crushed by a stone and had a significant amount of his life force drained. She hadn’t expected him to recover so quickly.

“Are we going?”

She looked at Klein.

Klein showed zero interest.

“No.”

“It says here there is a substantial reward.”

Lia waved the invitation in her hand.

“And it’s about the follow-up cooperation for the reconstruction of Leo City. That’s a massive project.”

Klein looked at her money-grubbing expression and remained silent for two seconds.

“The day after tomorrow.”

“Right, the day after tomorrow.”

“By then, your body should meet the standard.”

“So?”

“We’ll go.”

Lia handed the invitation back to the butler with satisfaction.

“Reply to them; we will arrive on time.”

The butler took the invitation, but he didn’t leave immediately, looking as though he had more to say.

“Is there something else?” Lia asked.

“Well… the City Lord’s butler also brought several crates of items.”

The old butler’s expression turned somewhat strange.

“He said they are supplements for the two of you.”

“Supplements?”

“Yes. Deep-sea Dragon’s Saliva Ambergris, Polar Snow Lotus, and several bottles of alchemy potions that are said to be priceless and rare…”

The butler listed the items while observing Klein’s face.

“He said… the Count heard that the two of you, in order to save him underground… sigh, suffered immense consumption, so he specifically sent these to help you both nourish your bodies.”

Lia’s smile froze on her face.

Immense consumption.

Nourish the body.

The way these words were used sounded very suspicious.

She instinctively looked at Klein.

Klein remained expressionless, seemingly failing to hear any ambiguity in the words.

“Accept them,” he said.

“Yes.”

The butler bowed and withdrew.

Silence returned to the room.

Lia grabbed a cushion from beside her pillow and hugged it.

“I think that Count might have misunderstood something.”

“Misunderstood what?”

Klein turned a page of his book.

“Misunderstood that we did something else in the catacombs besides fighting.”

Lia rolled her eyes.

“Let him think what he wants,” Klein said without looking up.

“As long as the pay is sufficient.”

Lia gave him a thumbs-up.

This level of enlightenment… he truly was a mentor.

***

For the next two days, Lia continued her life of being kept like a pet.

However, after her strong protests, her range of activity expanded from the bedroom to the entire second floor.

Until the morning of the third day.

Lia was in the study, organizing her thoughts for the follow-up thesis on the Periodic Table of Elements, while Klein sat in a nearby chair with his eyes closed, resting.

The sound of knocking came from downstairs again.

This time the sound wasn’t loud, but it was very steady.

Before long, the old butler hurried up.

His pace was more frantic than usual, his face showing clear panic.

“Miss! Lord Klein!”

The butler stood at the study door, even forgetting to knock.

“What is it?”

Lia put down her quill.

The butler rarely lost his composure like this.

“Downstairs… an old gentleman has arrived downstairs.”

The butler wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“He says his name is Horace and he wishes to see you.”

Lia raised an eyebrow.

Horace?

What was that old man doing here?

“Just let him up,” Lia said.

“But…”

The butler swallowed hard, his eyes full of terror.

“The badge on that old gentleman’s chest… I have never seen anything like it.”

As the butler of the Farrien family, he had seen the world in the Capital.

He could identify a mage badge from the First to Fifth Circle with his eyes closed.

Even high-tier mages of the Sixth or Seventh Circle were individuals he had seen from afar at certain great figures’ banquets.

Even the Eighth-Circle badge Lord Klein had shown last time, though rare, was within his range of knowledge.

But the badge on the old man downstairs was completely beyond his knowledge base.

It was a complex geometric figure, and the shifting radiance upon it made him feel dizzy with just a single glance.

The pressure it emitted was a hundred times stronger than facing the City Lord’s manor.

“That badge… it has many lines, and they’re moving…”

The butler gestured with his hands.

“And while that old gentleman looks smiling and kind, I feel like the air around him is warping.”

Lia and Klein exchanged a glance.

For an ordinary person or a low-tier mage, looking directly at a Ninth-Circle badge would indeed cause mental vertigo.

“Please bring him up.”

Lia stood up and straightened her skirt.

“No, I’ll go down to meet him.”

Asking a Ninth-Circle Archmage to climb the stairs, while Horace himself might not care, was simply bad etiquette.

More importantly, if she really made the old man wait until he got impatient, there was no telling what he might do.

When Lia reached the staircase, she saw a figure standing in the foyer below.

Horace wore a simple gray mage robe and leaned on a decorative wooden staff.

But the badge on his chest shone like a lightbulb in the dim foyer.

Several maids were huddled in a corner, trembling, not even daring to serve tea.

Horace stood with his hands behind his back, looking at an oil painting on the wall with great interest.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he turned around.

His gaze swept over Lia, finally landing on her rosy face.

His tense, old face visibly relaxed.

“It seems you aren’t dead,” Horace snorted.

“I thought I was coming here to collect your corpse.”

Lia held the banister as she walked down.

“Are you wishing for my death, or are you wishing for my death?”

She replied with a smile.

“If I died, who would calculate those formulas for you?”

Horace rolled his eyes, his beard twitching.

“Enough of your cheek.”

He looked at Klein following behind Lia.

Klein gave a slight bow.

“Excellency.”

Horace waved a hand.

“Enough, stop with those empty formalities.”

He pointed to the sofa in the living room.

“Sit down and talk.”