Chapter 81: The Choice
In a corner of the Magic Academy stood a small, dilapidated chapel, an old, long-abandoned building where almost no one ever came.
An old priest hurried over, glanced inside, and immediately walked in.
"Cleric Ethan, isn't this going a bit too far?" the priest, well past sixty, asked cautiously, finding the person he sought.
"Not too far at all. I just wanted some quiet time to myself," Ethan sighed. He hadn't expected to be found even here.
"But couldn't you at least find a different spot?" Old folks were always more particular about details and rules.
"No need. The atmosphere here is quite nice."
"The Assistant Minister of Finance is looking for you."
"Assistant Minister? Don't know him. What does he want with me? If he wants to see me, tell him to come find me himself."
The old priest's white eyebrows, beard, and wrinkles contorted helplessly. Looking at his young superior, he realized saying anything was useless. He could only turn and walk away, shaking his head.
Ethan shifted uncomfortably. It wasn't exactly a comfortable seat, after all. Carpenters built this thing to hold holy books, sacred relics, or perhaps the Bishop's hand, not a backside. The murals and bas-reliefs of deities around him struck various poses – some glancing sideways, some glaring fiercely, others gazing gently – all watching the person meant to serve them lounging on the sacred pedestal.
A very familiar footsteps sounded unhurriedly from the chapel entrance. Ethan didn't turn around, just sighed and said, "So it was you, was it? I wondered who it was."
"Though this chapel is unused, for you to sit on the sacred pedestal... isn't that going too far?" The Assistant Minister's voice was steady and solemn.
Ethan smiled and replied, "Hardly 'too far.' Just now, a devout old clergyman only said I was being 'a bit excessive'."
"That old priest initially wouldn't let me in, but I insisted, so he told me not to mind you, saying you were always like this." A hint of a smile touched the Assistant Minister's voice. "Seems you make a habit of this."
"What habit? I don't think I've done anything out of the ordinary. Just had a bit to drink, some meat. Last time I found a single-eyed lizard in the bushes outside, roasted it, and got a good scolding from the Bishop for it."
"Oh? The 'Southern Glass Bead' single-eyed lizard? I remember you always said you wanted to know what it tasted like." Recalling the past, the Assistant Minister's voice became a little livelier. "Did the Bishop scold you for needlessly killing it?"
Ethan scratched his head and sighed, "No, it was raining outside at the time, so I was roasting the lizard in here. I grabbed a book at random for fuel, not realizing it happened to be some rare, one-of-a-kind theological classic."
"Hehe, you haven't changed a bit, have you?"
"You have. Your voice sounds much calmer and more experienced. Worthy of the title Assistant Minister of Finance, the Empire's only female minister."
"Really? I think I've noticed it too." The Assistant Minister stepped forward, a hint of self-mockery in her tone. "Probably because I'm getting older."
Ethan turned around. He saw the same slightly round, delicate face, the same slender eyes, straight nose, thin lips. But the spirited, lively, agile temperament he remembered was gone, replaced by maturity and composure. Coupled with the well-fitting official robe, a certain authority now blended with her delicate beauty, creating a dignified presence.
"You haven't aged. You've matured and grown more beautiful." Ethan smiled at her. Seeing this unfamiliar appearance and temperament, a sudden sense of distance welled up from his heart. He'd felt this same strangeness when he met Rodhart. He sighed and said, "I find that once people become officials, or gain some position in life, they quickly change. They mature, become more experienced."
Sophia smiled faintly and said, "One sees more of the ways of the world, gains more experience. When spirit and thought are focused on one's work, a person naturally loses the frivolity of youth."
"But why do I remain the same?" Ethan sighed.
"Probably because your personality isn't suited for such things yet." Sophia smiled. "Honestly, even I find it hard to believe you could become a cleric, a future great hero. You... you don't seem the type."
"True. I'm not suited. I only just realized it, yesterday realized it. This place really isn't for me." Ethan let out a long sigh, expelling all the air in his lungs, along with the depression and helplessness he felt. "I'd rather survive alone in a swamp or desert, face beasts and monsters, than stay here any longer. I'm too stupid. Too foolish. I can't see clearly the people and things around me, I don't understand anything. Even when I try to do something, I end up controlling nothing. So I'm annoyed, wanted to be alone here and quiet down for a while. Then I think..." He didn't continue.
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"Even the swiftest hawk cannot live in the sea." Sophia's voice held a hint of gentleness. "You're not stupid. Probably just not suited to this environment."
That touch of gentleness, though slight, filled the empty, helpless heart with a sense of fullness. Suddenly, things long dormant, almost forgotten, stirred again. Ethan was silent for a moment, then asked: "Do you still remember what I told you before? I want to travel all over the continent, the whole world."
"I remember. You often spoke of it before." Mentioning the past made Sophia's voice even softer.
Ethan looked into those slender eyes. The vague smile within them seemed less pure, less abundant than before, but that trace of gentleness still filled every empty space in his heart. He thought for a moment and said, "Actually, I've had a question I wanted to ask you for a long time, but never did."
"What question?"
"I want to travel freely. Would you be willing to go with me?" After asking, Ethan turned his head, looking at the dust-covered deity statue. He dared not look at her.
No answer, only the sound of their breathing alternating in the dilapidated chapel. This dust-filled place was steeped in history, making it easy for time to be pulled back into memory.
"Do you still think of traveling now? What about the tasks Bishop Ronis has arranged for you?" Sophia's voice returned to its steady maturity. "Even if you're not used to this environment yet, what must be faced must be faced, the responsibilities that must be shouldered must be shouldered. Escaping is useless." She paused, her voice growing steadier, yet also tinged with a hint of loss. "We've both grown up."
Ethan gave a wry smile and said nothing more.
The two fell silent again. After a while, Ethan asked: "Why did you come looking for me?"
Sophia took out a letter and handed it to him. "My sister asked me to give this to you, for you to pass on to your friend Rodhart."
"Why didn't she give it to him herself? Why go through two intermediaries? For fun?"
"Probably because she's embarrassed. There might be something difficult to say in the letter. Having two people in between makes it feel less intense." Sophia's tone was full of worldly wisdom. "A young woman's thoughts are hard to fathom."
Ethan took the letter, shaking his head and sighing: "Truly hard to fathom."
"Alright. My task is done. I still have official duties waiting. You should focus on your work." The female Assistant Minister turned and walked out.
Only after walking out of the Magic Academy gates did she look back at the dilapidated little chapel and sigh: "Why didn't you ask me back then?" She wiped the corner of her eye, then slowly boarded her carriage.
"Focus on my work? Do you know what I want to do?" In the chapel, Ethan also sighed. His hand took out the scroll from his robe, slowly looking at it. The tiny skulls at both ends emitted a faint, eerie glow. As long as he grabbed those two little things and pulled, all the troubles of this mortal world would no longer concern him.
The feeling of relief and freedom was truly pleasant, yet it was also mixed with the pain of loss. Had that brief encounter just now been their final farewell?
The next day, the army dispatched to Aery to suppress the heretic rebellion set off.
Ethan watched the vast army march and frowned at Rodhart: "Are this many really necessary?"
Rodhart rode a tall, snow-white steed, clad in gleaming silver knight's armor, a purple cloak fluttering – his appearance perfectly matched his commander's status. Looking majestic, he rode beside Ethan at the head of the column. He shook his head and said, "Not many, just five thousand. I know the situation in Aery very well; we have the advantage of terrain and timing. According to reports, the heretic group is roughly five or six thousand strong, but they're just a disorganized rabble without proper equipment. Dealing with them won't be a problem."
Ethan took the letter from his robe and handed it to him. "This is what Chris asked her sister to give me, for me to pass on to you."
Rodhart frowned slightly as he took the letter and opened it.
"What does it say?" Ethan asked.
"Nothing much. She told me the Emperor has proposed marriage to Duke Mrak." Rodhart replied flatly.
"What?" Ethan was startled, then looked at Rodhart's calm, expressionless face. "It seems you already knew?"
"Of course." Rodhart nodded. "When I heard Chris mention her involvement with the Emperor, even she probably hadn't realized it then, but I guessed things would inevitably develop to this point. Though it came faster than I expected, probably because of the incident during the last hunt."
"You and Chris... have always been on good terms, haven't you?"
"Of course." Rodhart nodded again. "Duke Mrak sometimes intentionally arranged things that way."
Ethan recalled the astute judgment of the very useful Lord Bolgan. For a talent like Rodhart, Chris was the Duke's crucial bargaining chip to secure him under his banner. But now that chip clearly had a more important use.
"Didn't the Duke know the Emperor likes Chris?"
"He didn't. This was actually a very secret matter. Besides Chris, myself, and the Emperor himself, it seems no one else knew. The Duke pays too much attention to major state politics, so naturally overlooks such minor details concerning his children."
"You didn't tell the Duke this news?"
"Because there was no need for him to know." Rodhart smiled slightly; it might have been a wry smile, or perhaps a cold one, quite inscrutable.
Ethan frowned and asked: "Is that all the letter says?" If it was just that, it hardly seemed necessary to have two intermediaries pass it along.
Rodhart's expression became slightly unnatural. He said flatly, "She also said she's confused and doesn't know what to do. She'll be waiting for me at the tavern we often go to this noon. If I go, she'll leave the capital with me." His tone was very matter-of-fact, his narration simple and direct, as if it weren't a particularly important matter.
Ethan gave a wry smile. Another such marriage, another stillborn elopement. But Rodhart seemed completely different from himself at the time. He appeared to have made his decision without much struggle, giving up cleanly and decisively, without the slightest hesitation.
Ethan looked at Rodhart. The lines of his face weren't particularly sharp, a blend of handsome and approachable gentleness, originally seeming incompatible with qualities like resolve and bravery. But that unwavering calm and reason, present at all times, had long forged a strength far beyond mere courage. This was someone truly integrated into this environment, who would inevitably become its true master.
But this was no longer his concern. Ethan touched his waist. It was hard. Even through his clothes, he could feel the magical energy flowing through the scroll – the taste of freedom and renunciation.
Once they left the capital, he could slip away anytime, travel freely, hide, and when pursued to the point of no escape by the Church, just unfurl the scroll. He truly didn't want to stay in the capital any longer, amidst endless schemes and tasks, facing those he had no desire to face. Truly, as Sandro said, there your feelings and efforts weren't even worth a fart.
Ethan glanced at Rodhart. Everyone should live in the environment suited to them. Great matters should be left to those capable of handling them.
"Actually, I'm an orphan." Rodhart said suddenly amidst their silent march. "I don't know who my parents are. I was just an abandoned baby my grandfather picked up."
Ethan looked at him, not understanding why he suddenly brought this up.
"Despite that, my grandfather always doted on me. He poured all his energy into educating me, hoping one day I could become the most outstanding person. He spent his entire fortune to send me to Knight School. The villagers also believed I would surely become a remarkable knight, a hero. So from a young age, I was determined not to disappoint their expectations, determined to become a hero like the protagonists in stories, upholding light and justice. But later I discovered I was far too naive. I didn't become a hero; I was just a clueless kid, the chief culprit responsible for their deaths." Rodhart still looked forward, his tone flat, as if narrating a distant story, a vague light in his eyes seeming both ethereal and yet incredibly firm. "Later, I finally saw reality clearly, finally understood the world, and finally seized my opportunity. I won't be naive anymore. I must be strong. I must rely on my own efforts to become someone above others." He looked at Ethan and gave a tragic smile. This expression instantly shattered his usual imperturbable calm and strength, revealing a smile filled with pain and helplessness. "So even though I care for her deeply, this is the only choice I have."
Looking at that awkward smile, Ethan suddenly felt pity for him. Then, inexplicably, he thought of what Duke Mrak had said to him in his own bedroom.
Those who forge ahead powerfully in this world, striving to climb the peaks, their driving force often stems from unforgettable pain and helplessness.
"Everything I have now was given to me by you. You saved me, and you gave me the opportunity to reach where I am today. You are the person I am most grateful for in this life." Rodhart looked at Ethan. Ethan could see the last trace of the simple young man he had been in Aery reflected in his expression. "I will walk this path well, and I will also help you walk it better. Once we successfully complete this mission in Aery, I will also gain further recognition from the Church, and my position will become more secure. By then, I will no longer be a pawn in the Duke's game, but someone who can negotiate terms, discuss cooperation with him. I will surely climb higher, go farther."
Rodhart's gaze remained fixed on the direction of Aery. That was his past, and also his future.
Ethan made up his mind. He would go to Aery, see it through, help him complete this mission, and then leave.

