Chapter 319: Santis’s Home

The little girl peeked her head out the door, her eyes wide with a mix of nervousness and curiosity as she glanced at the three carriages parked outside—large, ornate coaches bearing noble crests that looked completely out of place in this neighborhood. Still, it was better than having them stationed on Sturgeon Street. A few residents from Crossroads Street had already been drawn over, watching from a distance, but no one dared come too close. Standing guard beside the carriages were imposing soldiers clad in black steel light armor, their dark blue cloaks adorned with medals. The black steel longswords at their hips, etched with strange runes and fitted with peculiar triggers, were enough to intimidate anyone. For the people of Crossroads Street, these soldiers were not to be trifled with.

From inside the house came a mother’s sharp call: “Peipei! Don’t leave the door open! Come back right now!”

Reluctantly, the little girl cast one last glance at the soldier standing near the doorway. The warrior, clad in full armor, caught her gaze and nodded kindly with a gentle smile.

Startled, the girl let out a soft exclamation before quickly turning and running back inside.

“I’ve been ordered by the Duke to return to the capital to recruit a group of mages,” Santis explained to his parents in the main room, “I won’t be living here anymore. I’ll be moving to the Duke’s residence on Crown Street.”

The middle-aged couple had already pieced together what was happening and had calmed down, but they still looked at Santis—dressed in finely woven robes—with a mixture of disbelief and awe. It was hard for them to accept that this confident young man was their son, the same boy who had ventured to the Dark Mountains and was supposed to be enduring hardship far from home. Their eyes naturally shifted to the people standing beside him.

The mother finally spoke: “And who are they…?”

“Good day, ma’am. I’m Gipri, a mage apprentice loyal to the Cecil family, assigned by the Duke to assist Mr. Santis.”

“Pierce, a bodyguard.”

The two agents, both graduates of the Military Security Intelligence Bureau, introduced themselves according to their roles and personalities. Santis, caught in the middle, seemed a bit uncomfortable with the formal atmosphere. The young arcanist quickly broke the awkward silence: “Where’s Miles?”

Miles was his younger brother, the second child in the family.

“He’s at the tanner’s,” their father replied. “There’s not much work in winter, but he found a job helping a nobleman tan leather.”

Santis nodded. Although it was nearly impossible for commoners to find work outside the Cecil territory during winter, this was the capital after all. Nobles still needed servants for odd jobs, and even if the pay was meager, these opportunities were precious lifelines for struggling families. So everyone scrambled to take whatever work they could get.

But as Santis’s gaze swept across the modest main room, a frown crept onto his face.

“Didn’t I send money home three times already?” he asked, furrowing his brow. “Even if it’s not enough to move to a better neighborhood like Felton Street, you should at least have fixed the doors and windows, expanded the stove… Why is it still like this?”

His father worked as a chef in a noble household, and his mother was an herbalist. Their family was considered well-off among commoners. Years ago, they had the chance to move to a better district, but they spent all their savings supporting Santis’s entry into the Mage Association, losing the opportunity to upgrade their living conditions. This was the biggest guilt Santis felt after failing to advance to Level Three Mage. So once he settled in Cecil territory and secured a stable income, the first thing he did was save money to send home. By his estimate, with Duke Gawain’s generosity, two or three years of savings would be enough to move his family to the better Felton neighborhood.

Yet now, seeing the house still in such disrepair, his parents still wearing patched clothes, and his father’s only decent outfit likely still the chef’s uniform he wore to work for the nobles, Santis’s heart sank.

Where had the money gone?

Hearing their son’s question, the couple exchanged a somber glance. After a few awkward seconds of silence, the father spoke: “We were supposed to improve things… but before winter, your brother fell ill.”

His mother continued, “Herbs couldn’t cure him, so we took him to the Church of the Holy Light. The priest said he was cursed by cultists because our faith in the Lord wasn’t strong enough to resist evil forces…

“The priest performed an exorcism, sprinkled holy water, and finally cured Miles. But because your father worships the god of commerce, the Church said our household was guilty of heresy and had been cursed by cultists. We had to pay a ‘penance’ to bring your brother back.”

The father shook his head, guilt weighing heavily on him for the ‘wrong faith’ that had brought trouble to the family. “The penance was supposed to be one-third to one-half of our property. Without mortgaging the house, they would have taken nearly everything we owned. Fortunately, Count Taut, whom I serve, spoke on our behalf, and since you’re registered with the Mage Association, the Church reduced the penance somewhat… But the money we had saved to repair the house before winter was gone.”

Santis’s expression darkened.

Clenching his fists, the usually calm young man felt anger for the first time.

Behind him, Pierce and Gipri exchanged a subtle glance.

The two agents silently took note of everything they had witnessed. Gipri then stepped forward and whispered in Santis’s ear, “Don’t forget why we’re here, Mr. Santis—the Duke will remember everything that happens here.”

Santis took a deep breath and looked firmly at his parents. “I’m here to take you to Cecil territory.”

“To the Dark Mountains?” his mother gasped.

“No, to Cecil territory,” Santis corrected seriously. “The Dark Mountains are just a place. Cecil territory is a land of opportunity there. Father, Mother, don’t believe the superstitions about the Dark Mountains. It used to be desolate, but Duke Cecil has built it into a safe, prosperous, and stable home. The houses there are sturdier and warmer than those in the capital. Every inch of land is nourished with druidic potions, as fertile as the best fields on the Holy Spirit Plains. And the Duke’s powerful army keeps the entire territory secure—you’ll live better there than in the capital.”

“We read your letters describing it. Is it really true?” his mother asked, eyes wide with disbelief. “But here in the capital…”

“This city isn’t worth holding onto. It never truly cared for its people,” Santis said, his words flowing easily now. “We don’t own land here. Even if we had a house, the Church could find any excuse to take it away. It’s better for all of us to go with me to Cecil territory. I’m already an advisor to the lord there, and he’s asked me to teach at the academy he founded. Mother, you can work at the alchemy factory, where they need herbalists who can identify medicinal plants. Father, you can be a chef at the lord’s mansion. Peipei can attend school at the academy, and Miles can study there too—he can even apprentice at the mechanical workshop, learning from a wise master how to build machines… We can all live a decent life there.”

The couple exchanged hesitant looks. Leaving the place they’d called home for decades was a difficult decision. But Santis’s words stirred something in them. Seeing this, he pressed on: “I came back this time under the lord’s orders to recruit scholars to help build the territory. We’re also bringing the families of the craftsmen who went with me to Cecil territory—those craftsmen have already decided to bring their families over, so I’m not the only one making this choice.”

“…I need to say goodbye to Count Taut first,” his father finally nodded. “I can’t just leave like this.”

His mother looked at her husband in surprise. “Jon?”

“Your son is right. We should try life elsewhere,” the father said through gritted teeth. “Last week… the MacIntosh family lost their fields and barns outside the city because they worship the Night Goddess and refused to change their faith. Dear, I have a bad feeling. The atmosphere in the city is changing. We’d better leave while we still can.”

Used to following her husband’s lead, the mother lowered her head. “…Alright. I’ll trust you.”

An hour later, after their younger son returned and the family’s affairs were settled, Santis climbed back into the carriage bearing the Cecil family crest. The three carriages rolled past Crossroads Street, a neighborhood with over two centuries of history, turned at the square, and headed toward Crown Street in the heart of the capital.

“Where should we start?” Gipri asked humbly. Though she was eloquent and trained by the Intelligence Bureau, she decided to defer to Santis’s local knowledge in this unfamiliar city.

“I’ll write letters to friends I know who meet the criteria. The ‘Laborers’ Guild’ can hire couriers who’ll deliver letters anywhere in Saint Suniel City within a day. Later, we’ll send a messenger to the Mage Association with the Duke’s seal to announce the recruitment of mages. Miss Gipri, I’ll also need you to take the Duke’s credentials to the ‘Scholars’ Hall’ near Silver Fortress. That’s the organization of the city’s scholars—you can post recruitment notices there. They might be interested in the Gondor relics and the rare flora and fauna from the Dark Mountains that Cecil territory has uncovered…”

Santis assigned tasks one by one. Then he paused and turned to “Swift Legs” Pierce: “Mr. Pierce, please visit the Craftsmen’s Guild. No credentials are needed there. You can spend one Ansu silver shield coin to post a recruitment notice for craftsmen, mainly rune artisans and skilled mechanists. Offer the pay equivalent to the ‘Magitech Engineers’ in the territory. Also, mention that recruited craftsmen will receive training in Cecil territory, and even as apprentices, they’ll earn two-thirds of the full wage. I believe the income for magitech engineers in Cecil territory will attract many.”

Gipri looked at Santis, calm and methodical as he spoke, and suddenly smiled. “Mr. Santis, you seem different somehow.”

“Am I?” Santis blinked, then laughed. “Maybe it’s because I finally understand why the Duke sent me here…”

(End of chapter)