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Chapter 1 Verdant City

  The Greenforest of history has long since given way to modern Verdant City.

  Countless reinforced-concrete buildings had risen from the ground, like a jungle forged of steel. In the distance, smokestacks in the factory district towered high, belching vast plumes of smoke. On the Mother River, coastal sailing ships worked tirelessly, hauling coal, timber, grain… and now and then, one or two tall ocean-going sailers passed by, laden with sugar, tea, tobacco… Along the banks, dock laborers in coarse linen shirts were everywhere—like worker ants—hoisting sacks, pushing wooden barrels, bustling about…

  Javon stared blankly at this Verdant City that was both familiar and strange. Then the shouts— “Madman,” “jumping in,” “bankrupt”—cut through his daze, followed by a heavy splash.

  He rubbed his stomach. He was even hungrier now.

  “I arranged everything for the slumber, yet somehow forgot to prepare for after waking.” He turned out his pockets. Inside were a few gold and silver coins—his old pocket money.

  The currency of this era had surely changed long ago. Javon planned to find a pawnshop and trade these ancient coins for some cash.

  Just then, he caught two unfriendly gazes. In the flow of pedestrians, two patrol officers in pitch-black uniforms with white stripes began to take notice of him, and started walking over.

  This was an age that worshiped ambition and honor.

  Great merchants and factory owners squeezed workers dry, then took the money they’d earned to buy land or donate to charity to gain prestige—while straining every nerve to marry into the nobility, forcing their way into so-called “high society.”

  Ordinary workers and the lower middle class labored every day, exploited, living like walking corpses; the slightest mistake could get them dismissed. Especially those with no specialized skill—like parts in a machine, broken and replaceable at any moment. So they often hurried along, faces pale, skin rough, most carrying occupational ailments.

  And Javon—whether in build, bearing, or expression—stood out completely. He wore a worker’s uniform, yet no worker would have the leisure to stop and admire the view from Ivyll Bridge.

  Javon didn’t linger. He lifted a hand to straighten his collar, and with that motion turned his body, slipping swiftly into a passing team of porters. A bread vendor suddenly halted and brushed past him. Javon paused for a heartbeat, letting the vendor block the patrol officers’ line of sight, then on the next step naturally fell in behind the team ahead. Little by little, he vanished from the patrol officers’ view.

  At the next street, Javon peeled off from the group. He entered a secluded lane. In the corners nearby, several half-grown street kids in flat caps were gathered. Their eyes shifted to Javon, lingering briefly on his pockets and wrists, exchanging silent signals with one another. As if sensing Javon wasn’t someone to trifle with, they simply watched as he walked into a pawnshop.

  “Hello, sir. What can old Morgan do for you?” An old man in a monocle, his hair gray-white, wearing a black vest, was polishing a piece of porcelain. Seeing Javon enter, he didn’t even raise his head—only offered a courteous greeting.

  Javon swept the shop with a quick glance. It wasn’t large, but it was clean enough; goods were neatly arranged along the walls. Then Javon took a gold coin from his pocket and set it on the counter.

  Old Morgan’s peripheral vision caught that flash of gold. He stopped what he was doing, quickly picked up the coin, and his expression shifted slightly. “Please wait…”

  He opened a small case and rapidly produced a number of tools, examining the coin. “The pattern, the sheen… tsk… This looks like an ancient gold coin, from the Kagash period? But… this… impossible!”

  Old Morgan was full of doubt. His experience told him the coin in his hand was a genuine ancient gold piece. Yet a subtle sense of discord made him feel it was too “new,” as though it hadn’t been tempered by a thousand years of history. Then his face hardened—he realized he’d lost composure and let something slip.

  “This gentleman, I’m sorry, but I can’t confirm the coin’s exact age. Perhaps you should go to a larger pawnshop…” Old Morgan said this on purpose. In his view, no worker could produce something like this. Most likely it was stolen goods. And stolen goods were often sold in haste—perfect for pressing the price and taking a hefty profit.

  “What if I want to sell it here?” Javon showed a trace of anxiety.

  A smile appeared on old Morgan’s face. “Then I can buy it at the gold rate. One gold pound.”

  In this era, the gold pound was directly tied to gold—an exceptionally solid currency.

  “Two pounds… or I’d rather go somewhere else.” Javon muttered, making as if to take the coin back.

  “Deal!” The corner of old Morgan’s mouth lifted. He believed the coin was worth at least ten pounds.

  Javon stepped out of the pawnshop and immediately noticed the kids from before were tailing him. He let a pleased smile show, looped around the area, then turned into a narrow, secluded alley.

  “He’s there!” With a little girl’s shriek, several burly men closed in, cruel grins spreading across their faces.

  “Kid, hand over all the money you’ve got!” To make Javon behave, a short man even pulled out a dagger and waved it in front of him a few times.

  Javon’s gaze swept over them, and he nodded with satisfaction. “Very good. I like your jacket. It’s mine…”

  A moment later, Javon emerged from the alley in a different set of clothes, dusting his hands off. Behind him lay those unfortunate men. He glanced at the little girl, frozen in shock, smiled once, and slipped into the crowd—vanishing in an instant.

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  Half a month later. The outskirts of Verdant City. The Sothos Museum.

  A well-dressed lady with golden hair was enthusiastically introducing the site to the gentlemen and ladies before her. “Everyone, what you’re seeing now is the Sothos Museum, listed in the Inves Register of Historical and Cultural Heritage. It was expanded from the main body of what was once the Sothos family castle. You can see that enormous banyan tree—nearly two thousand years old. The Sothos family once fanatically worshiped an ancient faith symbolized by the green banyan. Perhaps that was a mark of glory. In fact, a giant green banyan growing upon a castle like this—there is only one in the entire world!”

  “As everyone knows, this is also the hometown of a renowned historical and cultural figure of the continent: a legendary inventor, a founder of modern medicine, the father of the steam engine, the conqueror of Kagash, the Earl of Verdant City—Javon Sothos!”

  “Although there were many Counts of Verdant City throughout history, when people mention that title, they think only of Javon Sothos. Regrettably, we cannot behold the appearance of this famous figure from a thousand years ago. Works like oil paintings usually survive only a few centuries, and the Earl of Verdant City of that time left behind no statues.”

  As she spoke, the guide’s gaze swept over the crowd and paused on a young gentleman.

  He was dressed impeccably. His pure white, high-collared shirt had been pressed to perfection without a single crease; over it he wore a black wool formal coat, and on his head a black silk top hat—everything the kingdom’s most fashionable style. Even more striking was his handsome face, violet eyes like stars, and an air that clearly belonged to high society. At this moment, as he looked at the castle—repaired many times and rebuilt into an exhibition hall—an extremely complicated nostalgia surfaced on his face.

  “A thousand years pass like the blink of an eye. Most objects have rotted away; only stone endures. This ancient castle has lived through the Fabri Dynasty, the Dark Chaotic Age, the Age of the Glorious Revolution, the founding of the Kingdom of Inves, and other major eras of history—yet it still stands.”

  The guide led everyone inside, introducing the precious artworks and paintings along the corridor.

  “In the New Calendar year 885, Councilor Barry of Verdant City proposed a motion. With approval from the council and the Historical and Cultural Heritage Preservation Association, Sothos Castle was formally designated a cultural heritage site of the kingdom. From then on, any form of destruction or development of the structure itself and the surrounding area was forbidden. That is why we can see it in its most original state. This museum has an extremely long history. Its collections mainly come from the generous donations of several great nobles.”

  She pushed open a door. “Next, we arrive at the bedchamber of another historical figure—the founder of the Fabri Dynasty, Empress Ginny Sothos…”

  “Javon Sothos was a great military strategist. During his tenure as Earl of Verdant City, he used an extraordinarily swift lightning war to crush the Kingdom of Kagash, forcing it to cede territory and pay reparations. But Ginny Sothos directly annihilated the Kingdom of Kagash and established the Fabri Dynasty. Our New Calendar uses the founding of the Fabri Dynasty as Year One.”

  The guide smiled sweetly. “And here is an interesting rumor. That founding empress, the great Ginny, had a title that stirs the imagination—‘the First Witch,’ or ‘the Witch-Emperor.’”

  “The Fabri Dynasty had twelve rulers, and women accounted for half. In legend, they wielded the power of magic, able to summon lightning and flame. With cruel rule they oppressed the common people, until they were overthrown in New Calendar year 367. The ‘Kingslayer’ Soren took the throne, and the entire kingdom immediately fell into an even more chaotic Dark Age.”

  “In truth, the legends of magic are a misconception. Later research and archaeologists’ decipherment confirm that the Fabri royal family possessed the power of science—gunpowder development, fertilizers, modern medical techniques, and more. In ancient times, such advanced technology was like a miracle. Those who used it were called witches by the ignorant masses of the era.”

  Following the guide, Javon’s mouth sometimes curled, sometimes twisted.

  Looks like Ginny listened to me, and did quite well.

  Just then, he heard a man’s voice. “No—I think witchcraft might truly exist! Even now, the kingdom still carries the legend of the ‘Green Devil.’ As the ‘Green Devil’s’ sister, it’s reasonable that Ginny possessed extraordinary power.” The man wore a respectable suit; his forehead was broad and bright, and he stared at the guide with an angry expression, as though accusing her of lying.

  The guide smiled. “There are many who confuse the legend of the Green Devil with the ancient worship of the green banyan. But in fact, it is all a misconception. The world is scientific; there is no magic. Next, I’ll come to the key point.”

  She stopped at a glass display and introduced the pages spread inside. “These are extremely precious manuscripts. Though copied many times, they are believed to be the closest version to the original—Javon Sothos’s Book of Science! That is why I described Javon earlier as a legendary inventor.”

  “More than a thousand years ago, the great scientist Javon invented granular gunpowder, fertilizer, and even drew conceptual diagrams of the steam engine. The invention of gunpowder was a tremendous leap in the history of civilization. Obviously, Javon Sothos used the power of gunpowder to defeat the then-hegemon, the Kingdom of Kagash. Later successors such as Ginny inherited the power of this technology and maintained their rule.”

  “When the dynasty ended, the Sothos royal palace was breached and plundered. Javon’s priceless manuscripts were torn into countless fragments and scattered across the land, pursued, copied, and studied with madness by historians, scientists, and inventors… In the end, Dr. Valente improved the steam engine model and produced the first practical steam engine. Thus the great industrial transformation began, and glorious Inves rose to stand at the continent’s summit!”

  Javon listened carefully. Later, when the guide began introducing Ginny’s children, his interest waned. At last, the group reached the rear of the museum and saw an open-air graveyard.

  “Next, what we’re seeing is the Sothos family cemetery. The cemetery of history was long ago destroyed in war. What you see now is a later restoration. But after reconstruction, it is the closest to the original…” The guide was halfway through her sentence when she suddenly felt a bone-deep chill. She shivered, and for a moment her thoughts seemed to freeze.

  A gust of wind passed.

  Nothing happened.

  “Sorry. Let’s continue.” The guide smiled to smooth it over, only to discover with dismay that the young gentleman with violet eyes was gone.

  Theodore Sothos, Ginny Sothos, Shaya Sothos…

  Holding his hat, Javon walked out of the museum. As he recalled the names on the tombstones, a sudden sorrow rose in his chest.

  “You also think that guide completely misunderstood history, don’t you?” A man in a gray suit, blue eyes, and gold-rimmed spectacles hurried after him. Javon recognized him—the very one who had argued with the guide earlier.

  “There are far too many misconceptions in history, and the authorities also conceal things on purpose.” The man laughed openly. “Hello, I’m Bruce! Bruce Field, a lover of history and mysticism. Did you leave because you couldn’t stand her fabricated history, too?”

  “No.” Javon shook his head. “I’m just a bit hungry…”

  Bruce’s expression froze for a moment, but a smile quickly replaced it.

  “Perfect timing. I know a very famous restaurant nearby. Their signature dish—Witch’s Soup Pasta—is said to have been the Green Devil’s favorite food back then!”

  Half an hour later, Javon and Bruce were dining at a restaurant called “The Witch’s House.” It had to be said: after more than a thousand years of refinement, Witch’s Soup Pasta had become something else entirely. The purplish-red broth gave off a rich herbal aroma, carrying a certain air of mystery—exactly the sort of thing that appealed to young people who liked to be different. With bread and pasta, the taste was unexpectedly good.

  Javon took the first bite and suddenly felt like laughing.

  Back then I only mentioned it in passing—who would’ve thought that fake witch actually made it? Was she scared out of her wits back then, and afterward devoted herself to becoming a chef!?

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