The Wizard of Dimension - Walking

Chapter 5 : Magical Power First Manifestation

"Morning Dew after the Rain '," when Lyon heard this phrase from Count Eaton, he felt strangely familiar with it.

It turned out to be a type of tea. As the dusty memory box was opened, Lyon immediately recalled a series of memories related to "Morning Dew after the Rain." He had indeed tasted this tea before. It was a type of green tea that Jone liked. The brewed tea had a pale green color, and the tea leaves danced up and down in the hot water like tiny needles. Looking at that verdant color, it was as if he could see a lush forest.

As for the taste, Lyon couldn't quite remember. It was probably a bit bitter, right? Because old man Jone liked this type of tea.

"What's so strange about 'Morning Dew after the Rain'?" Lyon asked Jone.

Jone's expression remained unchanged, but a hint of curiosity flashed in his eyes. "There's nothing particularly strange about it... it's just regular tea that you've all had before, and your parents have had it too. But... if I were to mention something unusual about it, there's one possibility."

"What possibility?" Leon quickly asked.

Jone didn't answer immediately. Instead, he asked the mute servant to leave and then spoke slowly, "The tea leaves for 'Morning Dew after the Rain' are not from this world; they came with me from another world."

Before Jone could finish his sentence, Lyon rolled his eyes. "Alright, if Count Eaton didn't come for you but just for Morning Dew after the Rain,' then I'll send an invitation to Count Eaton come to the manor for tea tomorrow night."

He didn't want to entertain Jone's erroneous "interdimensional theory."

After saying that, Lyon turned and left.

Jone, on the other hand, looked at the tea box in Angell's hand and fell into silence.

...

Moisture hung in the air, and thin smoke rose.

Angell lay on the crafting table, watching the tea leaves in the transparent cup rise and fall under the hot water's infusion.

This was "Morning Dew after the Rain." It didn't look particularly remarkable.

Privately, Angell liked to drink strong tea with milk. He would take big sips, enjoying the rich milk clinging to the tea leaves at the corners of his mouth. He'd then extend his tongue to lick away the last traces of flavor, feeling thoroughly satisfied.

Jone always teased him, saying only kids liked milk. So, to appear mature in front of Jone, he usually drank tea with a bitter and earthy taste when around others.

He had drunk "Morning Dew after the Rain" countless times, and it tasted bitter with a lingering sweetness. There was nothing particularly special about it, but why would Count Eaton inquire specifically about it? Could it be true, as his mentor had suggested, that they had doubts about the origin of this tea plant?

Angell pondered for a while but couldn't come up with an answer. He decided to stop thinking about it and continued reading some of the materials from his mentor's bookshelf.

Most of these materials were about the Golden Sparrow Empire and the surrounding countries, covering topics like language, culture, history, characters, medicine, astrology, and more.

Angell was genuinely interested in the historical materials that his mentor had recently organized, so he read them carefully.

After finishing one epic poem that praised the heroes of the sea, Jone had left a comment at the bottom: "Beautiful language, well-structured, but excessive praise makes it difficult to extract possible historical information. Can be used as supplementary historical material for the Sea Crest Dynasty."

Jone had been more interested in researching physical data and biological forms in earlier years. However, he had realized that some of the physical constants represented in the data didn't follow the rules of Earth's physics. This made him truly aware of the peculiarities of this world. In recent years, he had become more interested in organizing and studying literary materials.

The Golden Sparrow Empire and the surrounding nations seemed to lack official historians. In a way, the materials Jone had organized over the past decade were unique.

Angell was also interested in the historical materials recently organized by his mentor, so he read them carefully.

Turning to another scroll, Angell saw that Jone had left a comment in English: "In this world, few people can read, and basic universal knowledge seems to be absent. For instance, the concept of the macro-environment of life was present in his world that he came from, despite the conceptual error, they had an idea of the planet they lived on. However, the people in this world seem to be limited to the concept of nations, lacking any understanding of the macro world. I hope to find the name of this planet (world) in other literature. If I can't find it, I'll name it myself."

After this note, Jone began recording some information about the common values of the people in this world.

As a native of this world, Angell was well aware of these values, so he only glanced over them and then opened another scroll.

Unknowingly, as twilight approached, the servant had lit the fireplace. The warm firelight, the chirping of insects in the courtyard, and the distant cawing of crows created a gentle evening atmosphere.

Meanwhile, not far from the town of Gru, on a plain, rows of makeshift tents surrounded blazing campfires. What stood out was a large and ornate black tent in the center of the camp, while the other tents surrounded it like stars encircling the moon.

This was the temporary campsite of Count Eaton Montayne, but the black tent at the center did not belong to him.

The frigid winds of the Ice Moon blew relentlessly, causing even the knights clad in armor to shiver. Seeing this, Count Eaton ordered a pair of sentry knights to patrol outside the tents, while the rest of the knights gathered around the campfire to rest.

After making these arrangements, Count Eaton slowly walked into the luxurious black tent. Upon entering, his authoritative demeanor, which he usually employed for giving orders, immediately softened into a respectful and ingratiating expression.

The interior of the tent was not lavishly decorated, but every object seemed to carry a hint of mystique. In one corner of the tent, an old man with a white beard dressed in a black robe was busy writing, and a mysterious crystal ball floated beside him.

Inside the crystal ball, mist seemed to swirl and change, and the old man occasionally glanced at it before returning to his writing. Count Eaton tried to look at the crystal ball but quickly felt dizzy and averted his gaze.

"Have you found ''Morning Dew after the Rain '?" a hoarse and deep voice emanated from the old man.

With a hint of trepidation, Count Eaton recounted the conversation he had with Lyon Pat today at the Pat Manor.

"Oh?" The old man with a white beard set down his quill and dried the blood-red ink on the paper. "Although the Lyon Pat is unaware of the morning dew after the rain, his expression did change upon seeing the wooden box... Could it be that there is an issue with the creator of this wooden box, or perhaps, they too are the spellcaster?"

"The magical pattern on this scroll is called 'Roaring Waves.' It will be useful to you in the war against Sea Crest. It's a pity you don't have the talent, or I could have taken you with me when I return to the family after this trip," the old man said with a sigh.

Count Eaton's expression dimmed. "Father, if I can ensure the safe departure of Alan and Eileen, I'll be content. As for myself, staying with the family won't be a problem."

The old man sighed again, but then he remembered his two grandchildren and his eyes softened. "A wizard's talent is rare, historically speaking. Some regions have gone thousands of years without producing a single one. We're blessed that our family has two gifted individuals, and they're your own flesh and blood. I will take good care of Alan and Eileen when they leave."

"Unfortunately, my talent isn't very high. I'll probably have to rely on my grandchildren in a few years," the old man said, and his gaze shifted to the wooden box on the table.

"The craftsmanship is interesting, but there are no magical fluctuations on it. It should be the work of an ordinary person, right?" The old man shook his head. In the Old Continent, where could they find spellcasters? Even in this continent, where elemental fluctuations were suppressed, they couldn't find the necessary materials. After all, this was the Forgotten Continent.

"Since Lyon Pat isn't willing to speak the truth, don't blame me," Count Eaton said with a hint of coldness in his eyes. "When it concerns my father's promotion, it's a matter of utmost importance. Tonight, I'll have Marle lead two squads of knights to subdue Pat Manor."

The old man didn't say anything, but his silence was tantamount to agreement. Although he belonged to the White Wizards, who didn't actively harm ordinary people, when it came to his own promotion and considering the differences in magical philosophy between White and Black Wizards, a few casualties among regular people were a minor concern.

Count Eaton discussed a few more matters concerning Alan and Eileen's departure, and then he prepared to leave.

At that moment, Sir Marle, the knight commander, suddenly knelt outside the tent to request an audience.

"Milord," he said, "just now, Lyon Pat, the Viscount of Pat Manor, sent a messenger with an invitation letter."