Chapter 754: Distance
Family…
When Mary heard that familiar yet strange word, she felt a sudden dizziness, as if caught between memories and reality.
It took her a few seconds to recall that, just days ago, she had told her mentor her decision—she wanted to see her family, even if only once.
The young mage pressed her lips together, hesitating as she looked at her mentor. “They’re…?”
“Just upstairs, in the living room,” Daniel’s faded eyes fixed on Mary. “You’d better freshen up before going up—especially your hair.”
“O-okay.”
Mary hurriedly agreed, then, feeling somewhat distracted, left the basement where the immersion chamber was set up. She returned to the first floor and entered the communal washroom. Turning on the tap, she watched the clear water, supplied by the magical water pump, flow steadily from the metal pipes. The sound of rushing water gradually calmed her restless heart.
Her family.
She could barely remember what it was like when she left home… A little girl, clueless and wide-eyed, tagging along with older kids on a mountain “adventure.” Lost after nightfall, she had accidentally wandered into an ancient mage’s tower, and from that moment, her life changed forever. Contact with her family was severed. Over the years, childhood memories had faded and weathered away. The only impressions she had left of “home” were a low, drafty old house, a dim lantern hanging by the door, and the scary bedtime stories told to frighten children.
Unfortunately, many of those chilling tales—about dark wizards, ancient castles, monsters in the mountains, and magical servants—had come true in the years since.
The water gurgled as Mary cupped the cold liquid and splashed it on her face.
She no longer remembered her parents’ faces clearly, but she still wanted to see them.
Leaving the washroom, the young mage’s mood steadied. She saw her mentor standing silently in the corridor, expressionless. When he noticed her, the robed old mage simply nodded and silently led the way toward the living room.
Mary followed closely behind.
At the living room door, a servant immediately stepped forward and pushed the heavy door open.
Mary took in the scene.
A fireplace burned quietly on one side, its red glow reflecting off a nearby brass shelf. A dark red sofa sat in the center of the room. On it, an elderly couple dressed in dirty gray coats, their hair streaked with white and faces lined with wrinkles, sat cautiously. Most of their bodies were perched on the edge of the sofa, as if afraid to soil the elegant furnishings.
—It seemed her mentor had only brought her parents, not her sister.
The elderly couple noticed the newcomers and almost instantly stood up, offering Daniel a mixture of reverence and ingratiating smiles. Then their eyes fell on Mary, standing behind him. In that moment, after more than a decade apart, the family finally reunited.
Mary stared steadily at the old couple, watching their cloudy eyes flicker to her mage’s robe. They slowly wore expressions of humble awe, bowing their heads reflexively.
“Honored mage,” they addressed her.
Mary felt awkward. Daniel’s cold voice cut in beside her: “This is your daughter. No need for formalities.”
Only then did the couple straighten up, glancing at Mary with a mix of surprise and lingering nervousness. Mary wasn’t sure what she felt. Her lips moved several times before she finally forced out, “Father, Mother…”
Her tone was formal, the kind of polished, upper-class speech she had learned from her mentor, a high-ranking mage from the imperial capital. The rustic dialects of her childhood had long since faded from her mind.
The elderly couple seemed momentarily stunned by her words, then nodded stiffly, repeating, “Good, good… very good…”
Once everyone settled onto the sofas, an awkward silence quickly filled the room.
Mary struggled to find something to say to ease the tension. After a long pause, she managed, “Is everything… okay at home?”
“Good, good… enough food to eat,” the bent old man nodded repeatedly. “And you? Enough food?”
“I’m well provided for,” Mary said awkwardly. “Do you still live in the countryside?”
“Where else?” the old woman replied. “The house and land are there, along with the livestock.”
“How did you get here?”
“The honored mage sent someone to fetch us,” the woman glanced cautiously at Daniel. “We came by carriage—a big carriage.”
Then her eyes fell on Mary’s robe again, and a flicker of awe crept back into her gaze, as if it were ingrained in her very bones. Even knowing this was her own daughter, she couldn’t help but feel nervous. “You’re a mage now…”
“Yes, I’m about to advance to intermediate rank…” Mary said, though she wasn’t sure if the couple understood what that meant.
“Good, you’re… successful,” the old man nodded again, a sycophantic smile tugging at his lips as he glanced at Daniel, then quickly looked away. “You were taken by the honored mage. That’s your luck. Your sister and brother don’t have your fortune…”
Luck… Mary suddenly didn’t know how to face that word.
The conversation seemed to run out quickly—or rather, it had never really begun.
Mary felt increasingly uneasy, and she was sure the old couple felt the same.
They were strangers, bound by blood but separated by a vast distance. Sitting so close, they tried to find common ground, but couldn’t even pretend.
After the second round of awkward silences, the old woman kept glancing toward the door. Her husband grew visibly restless—they didn’t know how to hide their emotions properly, and Mary could read their thoughts and feelings at a glance.
Sitting in this “luxurious” place for so long, the rural couple was clearly uncomfortable. They felt no joy in reuniting with their daughter. They were here only because the honored mage had ordered it. Every minute was a torment.
They occasionally stole glances at Daniel, their eyes pleading.
Mary stood up.
“That’s enough,” she said softly. “I… have some magical experiments to do.”
“Oh, oh, alright,” the old woman quickly rose. “Then… go do your work.”
“Will you be staying here for a few days?”
“No, no,” the woman waved her hands nervously. “We have to look after the livestock at home. Leaving them too long with others makes us uneasy.”
Mary said nothing more, just nodded lightly, then seemed to flee the room.
Only after retreating to a nearby side chamber did she realize she had left her mentor behind—something that, a year ago, would have earned her a severe punishment.
Just as Mary realized her mistake, the side chamber door opened. Daniel stepped in.
The robed old mage glanced at Mary quietly and said casually, “I’ve arranged for them to rest elsewhere for a day. They’ll be sent back tomorrow.
“If you don’t want to see them again, you don’t have to during this time.
“I’ll have someone look after their needs.”
Mary lowered her head, voice barely above a whisper. “…Thank you.”
“No need.”
“Mentor, am I… really that bad?” Mary dared to look up at him. “They’re my parents…”
Daniel interrupted calmly, “They didn’t want to come at first. It was only after the apprentice I sent showed them the mage’s authority and offered payment that they agreed to meet you.”
Mary blinked, confused. “Payment…?”
“It’s no one’s fault,” Daniel said evenly.
“Did you foresee this outcome?”
“Yes,” Daniel replied without expression. “But this is your choice, and a reality you must face. So I did not intervene.”
Mary bit her lip, then looked down at her robe and the silver badge near the collar that marked her rank.
The barrier between them was more than just the years apart.
“Mentor, is the gap between the extraordinary and ordinary really that wide?”
“In most places, yes.”
Mary lowered her head, silent for a long time.
Daniel turned and left the room, leaving his apprentice alone.
He had other duties to attend to.
…
In Aldernan’s East District, a narrow alleyway.
A scruffy, deep-set-eyed, unremarkable man staggered down the street.
He reeked of alcohol, clutching a cloth bag filled with food. His hair was long and unkempt, and his worn clothes matched the poverty of the neighborhood.
Winter dusk fell early, casting a dim light over Aldernan. Sparse magical crystal street lamps flickered on, illuminating the dilapidated streets. Few pedestrians were about—those heading home from factories hadn’t yet returned. Occasionally, a suspicious vagrant or a heavily made-up low-tier prostitute appeared by the roadside.
The drunken man walked on, then suddenly a strange unease gripped him, forcing him to stop.
He steadied himself against a wall, but his right hand moved stealthily to his waist, gripping a golden spike.
The spike shimmered faintly with magic.
A scruffy vagabond passed by him. As they brushed past, the vagabond suddenly turned his head.
In the drunken man’s eyes, the vagabond’s form twisted and writhed, transforming into a figure cloaked in black robes, face hidden in shadow.
A voice whispered in his ear: “Meet at Black Iron Alley, number 14.”
The man’s drunkenness vanished instantly. Calmly sheathing the golden spike, he felt another will quietly stirring in his mind. Changing direction, he murmured, “Yes, Bishop.”
He turned and left the alley.
Where he had passed, no scruffy vagabond had ever appeared—it was as if the entire encounter had been an illusion.
A dazzling beam of light tore through the darkness, illuminating a vast plain shrouded in heavy clouds. The land was barren and parched; desolate ruins and withered remnants of plants lay half-buried beneath swirling sands. An endless wind swept across the wasteland, and amid this broken, forsaken world, countless shadowy figures trudged across the plain.
Their faces were blank, their eyes vacant, as if this endless journey had neither purpose nor end.
Far off on the horizon, where the light shone brightest, stood a radiant city. Its towering halls gleamed with gold and jade, like a perfect city lifted straight from myth and legend.
High above, in the cloud-choked sky, two figures suddenly appeared.
One wore a flowing white dress, holding a flickering, ethereal lantern. The other was tall and slender, with black hair and a scholarly air, sporting a single elegant monocle.
“Archbishop Selina,” the man with the monocle said respectfully to the woman holding the lantern, “this area is the largest overflow projection we’ve discovered so far. It’s also the only one completely detached from the Dream City, generated within the ‘Imaginary Zone.’”
“This looks like a ruin,” Selina Gelph frowned, “a ruin that’s been here for who knows how many years. All previous overflow projections showed cities or villages still functioning normally. And our time dampeners have successfully synchronized the flow of time in Sandbox One with the real world. In theory, there shouldn’t be any area abandoned for this long… Archbishop Yuri, what’s your take?”
“Perhaps the historical timeline within Sandbox One has fractured, and time no longer flows linearly,” Archbishop Yuri mused. “Or maybe the internal world has expanded so vastly that some regions continue to operate normally, while others have been desolate for centuries, even millennia.”
“…Unfortunately, this is just an overflow projection. Anything we do here won’t affect the operation of Sandbox One itself.”
Selina Gelph spoke softly, her gaze fixed on the darkened plain below. After a moment of silence, she gently swayed the lantern in her hand.
The entire overflow projection faded silently with the lantern’s movement, reverting to a basic black-and-white grid pattern beneath a gray, misty sky.
“Summon that Daniel next week,” Selina said to the scholarly man beside her. “I want to speak with him personally.”
“So soon?” Yuri was a little surprised.
“Yes, sooner than expected—because Daniel seems to have noticed something amiss and is conducting his own investigation in secret. This is the perfect opportunity to talk with him.”
(Oh my god!!!)
(End of chapter)