Chapter 75: The Age of Madness

Sunlight came in through the east window, filtered by the lace-curtain into a mottled mix of pale yellow and gray-black, falling on the floor by the window like some mysterious magical script. Leaning against the soft camel-hair cushion, Constantine gazed at the slowly shifting light and shadows, feeling a little distracted.

His Majesty the King’s banquet was already yesterday’s news, but the shockwaves it sent were still a bit hard for the boy to digest… Of course, this wasn’t about the exquisite food and fine wine.

“First Royal Army, Special Knights’ Sky Knight Reserve, Chiliarch?” The boy muttered the military title under his breath, the long string of words ending with a smile that held no joy whatsoever—this was the latest reward bestowed upon him by His Majesty the Emperor of Phoenix. It was supposedly to honor his contribution in inventing the Airship. According to His Majesty, this Magical Artifact, crafted with unprecedented, brilliant wisdom, would surely open up a new, unprecedented era for Phoenix… Therefore, the King had generously established a new army for it, and Constantine was now the leader of this army.

Although it caused a tidal wave of astonishment, the decision wasn’t actually excessive. Even though the production scale wasn’t large, the first Hot Air Balloon Airship currently under construction on the Western Continent had a significant load capacity. It was estimated to have a pure payload of over ten thousand pounds—a Hot Air Balloon’s lift alone couldn’t achieve this, but with the addition of a number of levitation Magic Arrays that didn’t exceed a certain threshold, the effect was much better than a purely physical product.

This weight was enough to transport over a dozen fully armed soldiers or a corresponding amount of valuable supplies. One could imagine that after the trials were fully completed, the practicality of its successors would surely be further enhanced.

People of this era might not have broken through in certain ways of thinking, but there were always many smart individuals. Mages had long since fully imagined the functions a Flying Magical Device could perform. Having such equipment would mean a significant boost in power for any country.

However, this first flying Magical Artifact on the Continent hadn’t even rolled off the production line yet, and already it had little to do with its inventor, Constantine… Nominally, he was the Chiliarch of the Sky Knights, specifically responsible for this newly established unit equipped with Airships. But for now, he had no one to command, neither personnel nor soldiers. Moreover, he could only formally assume the position of Chiliarch after obtaining his graduation certificate from the Imperial Military Academy.

That meant it would be at least three years from now.

“Probably even after three years, it won’t truly be handed over to me. It’s just a roundabout way of nationalizing it… the usual tactics of the violent apparatus!” The boy shook his head and sneered.

“Violent appa… what’s that? A new type of crossbow?”

“Nirwen.” The sudden voice beside him made Constantine start, then he frowned. “Didn’t I tell you long ago not to pull this silent appearance act?”

Miss Nirwen was already standing beside him at some point—as a qualified Rogue, she had clearly trained her basic skills of silent movement quite well. Even holding a breakfast tray, she hadn’t drawn Constantine’s attention at all before she spoke.

“You had a really interesting expression just now, so I didn’t disturb you… I originally thought a scumbag Noble like you wouldn’t have such a gloomy, worried face!” The Blood Elf lady placed the breakfast by the table casually, completely ignoring her host’s displeasure.

“Nonsense, Nobles are people too. And don’t you know that Nobles are always the group closest to conspiracies and Darkness? Of course, that comes with endless troubles…” The moody boy retorted irritably. Even though he was long used to Nirwen’s sarcastic way of speaking and knew lectures wouldn’t change anything, his current mood made it a bit hard to suppress the urge to teach her a lesson.

“Endless troubles… can they be bigger than mine?” The Blood Elf let out a dissatisfied snort.

Constantine was taken aback—in fact, the lady’s current situation was truly miserable. Disliking someone yet having to follow him, and having to satisfy some of his special demands—for any girl, this would be unbearable torture, let alone for a Blood Elf with a long lifespan and a strong love for freedom. Being confined to one place was undoubtedly worse than death for them.

But, it seemed the mastermind behind all this was himself. Should he just let her go? Constantine shook his head. He would absolutely not agree. At the very least, he should wait until she couldn’t bear to leave his side before telling her the truth. After all, in his goal of living a carefree life, having a few beauties by his side would be more fitting.

“Seems like, without realizing it, I’ve become too fixated on some boring and foolish things… huh?” The boy murmured to himself.

His expression relaxed slightly, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smile, but this time it carried a note of self-mockery.

What did he want the Airship for? Transportation? Trade? Or to produce it himself? But from the very beginning, he should have known that such an invention couldn’t be monopolized by one person. A Duke’s son running off to organize a merchant group would be a laughable move… And did he really need the authority of that military unit? His pursuit was to live freely, not to conquer the Continent!

The Airship was never something he poured too much effort into—from the very beginning, his purpose in making the Hot Air Balloon was just to win a smile from a beauty and gain some advantages for himself. And now, looking back, the benefits he’d reaped from it were considerable. Whether it was the magic ring named Sorcery or the various little trinkets he got from Christine, they were more than enough compensation for the invention idea of the Airship. Moreover, aside from the necessary costs of making the Airship, he still had a hefty stack of imperial gold notes in his hand. That was tens of thousands of shiny gold coins, enough to buy several beauties like the one before him!

And now, with the money in hand, there were undoubtedly many more plans he could carry out.

Constantine’s mind became active, and he immediately thought of several things he had planned before—for example, he was now at least a Viscount, a Chiliarch of an army legion, so his entourage should probably be increased a bit. Although the Lich judged that the gay Vampire used his life force to power the final Curse and was probably dead now, and the recent lack of any abnormal incidents seemed to confirm this, Constantine still wanted to be more secure.

Broadly speaking, as the Duke’s legitimate eldest son, he could command the dozens of servants in the Duke’s Mansion and several Knights. However, due to various factional reasons within the family, those he could truly call followers around him now numbered only two—the Blood Elf lady Nirwen and the big guy Gordo. At most, you could add Walter and the Griffon Knight Scorite. But the latter two were the Duke’s subordinates and could be reassigned to other tasks at any time, which was very detrimental both for the present and future development… Since the Duke had delegated the authority to hire, he might as well go find some more servants.

At least when he reported to the Imperial Military Academy in a few days, he could have a few useful subordinates following him. At the very least, it would help deter any trouble—it seemed in the stories he remembered, the main character always ran into a few troublesome fools upon entering a school.

“So where to find them? Skilled Mercenaries aren’t common…”

Constantine’s two silver-gray eyebrows furrowed again. He wasn’t worried about the loyalty of those he was about to recruit. In this world of Magic, there existed a shackle called a Pact. The existence of Divine Power was enough to guarantee some people’s lives. But this wasn’t the flashy world of online games either; experts couldn’t be identified by halos above their heads or fancy Armor. Moreover, he needed those who hadn’t been recruited by major families yet.

Like assassins, Mercenaries were also a rather ancient profession.

In this Plane, where magical beasts and supernatural beings were everywhere, even though Human abilities had improved fundamentally, vast mountains, continuous primeval forests, and even broad seas or lakes instead became forbidden zones for Human activity, even some abandoned cities were the same. Because no one knew what kind of terrifying magical beasts might lurk in such places. Even places once explored could be completely transformed within months.

The power of ordinary people seemed particularly weak, so those with mysterious abilities, advanced weapons, or simply strong physical bodies became highly sought-after. They could try to accept any task in exchange for payment… And sometimes, the common folk relied on them far more than the Law Enforcement Office guards with their boat-shaped helmets.

But the Mercenaries of this world weren’t like those in the novels Constantine remembered, carrying their weapons around all day or renting a storefront on the street, openly hanging up a Mercenary guild sign and hiding inside waiting for someone to hire them. In fact, although there were quite a number of Mercenaries in Phoenix, most were crude characters who could only handle some Goblins, or thugs skilled in ambushes and extortion. Those who truly had the capability to accept hunting or protection work were often quickly hired by major Nobles or merchant guilds. Finding a capable lone wolf was harder than finding lice on a bald head.

But soon, the boy received an unexpected answer.

“I don’t know what level of skill you mean by ‘skilled,’ but if it’s to deal with one or two guys of the same level as last time, I can still find such a person. But the condition is, you need to prepare enough gold coins.” Hearing the boy mutter to himself, the Blood Elf lady suddenly spoke.

…

No matter the place or era, the gold-trimmed, towering buildings and dazzling colorful neon lights are just a layer of disguise over the grimy, murky reality.

What lay before Constantine should be considered the inside of Hayton… It was a very narrow alley entrance, barely wide enough for two people to walk side by side, but it went deep, stretching into the darkness. Although its entrance connected to a relatively bustling street, this alley itself definitely didn’t easily attract attention.

After walking for a while, the narrow alley began to widen a bit. The walls and ground were equally black, covered with filthy grime that hid their original color, and no one wanted to think what else was mixed in. It was hard to imagine such a remote, deep alley being full of shops, but they were completely different from shops elsewhere. Gaps and holes were everywhere on the walls and doors, grimly gaping like the broken teeth in a stray dog’s mouth. Seemingly sinister gazes occasionally leaked from within the walls, coldly sweeping over passersby, mixed with the stench of rotting garbage and overflowing sewage, making one feel perpetually enveloped in a sticky layer.

If the area around the main boulevard was Hayton City’s paradise of song and dance, then the block before him presented a scene of hell on earth. Of course, many Nobles never saw this scenery in their lifetime because over ninety percent of them never set foot here.

But the Blood Elf walked briskly through this hell as if strolling through a garden—ever since entering this street, Nirwen seemed to be in a very relaxed state, perhaps because she was wearing her tight leather armor again, all her equipment identical to when Constantine first saw her.

Of course, her face was an exception. Unless she wanted to attract a crowd of idle, malevolent onlookers, a Blood Elf’s face wasn’t suitable for any public occasion—a layer of flour mixed with some unknown grease was now smeared on her face, completely covering her delicate features into a horn-like dark yellow. Her beautiful eyes were only visible as slits, and the overall shape of her face was altered considerably. Combined with a large black cloak and a lock of hair dyed dark red with something poking out from under the deep hood, even someone who had seen her disguised before would have a hard time connecting her to that delicate female Elf.

In contrast, in such a coarse, oppressive environment, the Noble boy behind her appeared glaringly out of place. Even though he had wrapped himself tightly in a gray cloak, his habitual way of moving still drew the attention of a few sharp-eyed individuals.

For instance, he rather awkwardly stopped walking now—right in front of him sat a thin, small girl, at most seven or eight years old. She wore dirty, ragged clothes, her small feet stuffed into torn shoes. The ragged clothes were long since too small for her, but she still tried desperately to wrap them around her shivering body. She turned her thin, pale, sickly little face towards Constantine, looking at him timidly and silently, one trembling reddish-black hand stretched out with a submissive, fearful expression, as if braced for rejection.

Constantine frowned, fished out a few copper coins from his waist, then crouched down slightly and placed them in her hand.

“Charity or alms? It’s utterly worthless… You Humans have really strange ideas. Don’t you know those few green coins won’t change her fate, not even let her have one full meal?… You’re just doing useless work.”

A low, hoarse voice came from behind the boy. Only the habitual mocking tone revealed a bit of the original speaker’s identity.

“And wasn’t it you so-called Nobles who set the taxes that made them like this?… So why put on this pitying act now?” Watching the boy avoid the girl’s gesture of kowtowing, the Blood Elf continued in that same voice, letting out a snort. It seemed to mock his foolishness, but also carried a hint of something else.

Constantine knew exactly what she was referring to—at the end of her line of sight was a man, his short figure hunched in the Shadows practically the epitome of a villain: hunched back, high shoulders, sunken chest, big flat feet, blue veins bulging on red hands, his wrinkled face sunken, tight lips constantly twitching as if always chewing on something. But all this, combined with his eyes showing more white than yellow, gave him a nearly malicious impression. Through strands of gray-white hair hanging over his low, narrow forehead, his small, intense eyes gleamed with a jackal-like light, fixated tightly on the few copper coins clutched in the girl’s hand.

“Not charity or alms, just for peace of mind,” the boy replied calmly, knowing full well these pitiful children couldn’t truly possess his compassion. He just shook his head slightly and stood up. “A saying among Nobles is: only one who understands pity is qualified to be a true Noble…”

“You’re strange. Stranger than any Human I’ve ever met…” The boy’s words silenced the Blood Elf for a moment, then she offered this comment and turned to leave.

“Maybe it’s because I’ve come to a mad age? Hmm, welcome to this mad age, welcome to this chaotic age, resilient boy…” Rubbing his nose, Constantine quickened his pace a little to keep up with the Blood Elf’s light footsteps. Suddenly, he remembered the theme song from an animation in his memory…