Chapter Five: Here Comes My Blissful Life

The year 718 of the Phantom Beast Era was a prosperous one for the Caesar Empire. Under the command of their brilliant and ambitious sovereign, King Rudi III, the imperial army triumphed over the northern beastmen’s invasion. Their mortal enemies to the south, the Res Empire, too, were cowed by the might of the iron-clad legions and had curbed their once-imperious aggression. The invincibility of Caesar’s cavalry—this legendary renown, passed down for centuries—was once again proven with the blood of their enemies.

With the borders pacified and the realm at peace, the officials and ministers of the court fervently wished that such days would last forever. Compared to those in the imperial halls, however, it seemed the common folk were more enamored with the latest rumors and gossip that circulated throughout the city.

“Have you heard about Scarlet Flame? That’s the steed of the Dragon Knight, Canas. It was injured in the last war with the beastmen! Dozens of court priests failed to heal it!” In a small tavern in Pompeii, the imperial capital, a young server was regaling the patrons with animated gestures, spittle flying as he spoke.

“Hmph, your news is already outdated. I heard that last month, the Marquis of Canas went himself to the Sunset Mountains and asked the holy priest Anthony to heal his magical companion.”

“Heh! But there’s something you probably don’t know.” Seeing he had everyone’s attention, the server grabbed a patron’s mug and drained it in one gulp before continuing, full of pride, “Actually, Scarlet Flame wasn’t cured by Holy Priest Anthony!”

“Not by the holy priest? Then who could possibly have such skill?” The few patrons in the tavern were all drawn in by the news.

“They say it was a mysterious young priest. At the time, even His Grace Anthony was at a loss for what to do…”

“All right, enough chattering. Get back to work!” The owner’s harsh voice cut through the air. “Yes, yes…” The server nodded and bowed, hurrying away.

At that moment, the tavern door opened, and a boy entered, clad in a spotless priest’s robe and carrying a half-man-tall ceremonial staff, accompanied by a snow-white pet dog. It was Chu Tian and Little White.

His robe was immaculate, the staff sturdy in his grasp. Black hair cascaded to his shoulders, framing a face both sharp and serene, with an almost sacred solemnity. Coupled with his upright bearing, this was Chu Tian’s current appearance.

“Welcome, honored priest!” The server rushed over immediately.

Chu Tian found a clean table by the window, lifted Little White by the scruff and set him on the table. “Bring me two bowls of noodles.”

“T-two bowls?” The server eyed the robe—neither ostentatious nor shabby. “Priest, are you certain that’s all you want?”

“Praise be to the Goddess of Life! Decadence is the beginning of downfall!” With a mellow voice and solemn expression, young master Chu Tian had by now thoroughly mastered Anthony’s mannerisms, inching ever closer to a charlatan’s ways.

He patted the purse at his waist—just a few silver coins left. “Fine, bring me a few of your signature dishes, as well.”

Little White whined in protest.

“Oh, and a jug of good wine!” Chu Tian shot a glare at Little White, cursing the little drunkard under his breath. This glutton had nearly ruined him financially on the journey.

He tossed a silver coin to the server. “Run to the Marquis of Canas’s manor and tell them someone named Chu Tian is here.” The size and complexity of Pompeii amazed him—after wandering for half a day, he still hadn’t found his elder brother’s house. He could only rely on the locals to run errands.

The server glanced furtively at the owner counting coins in the distance, swiftly pocketed the silver, and whispered, “Are you a friend of the Marquis of Canas?”

“What, do I not look like one?”

“Of course you do! Absolutely.” The server smiled awkwardly. “I was just surprised a person of your standing would come to a place like this.”

“Enough nonsense. Go!” Chu Tian waved his staff impatiently.

—

A little over ten days before, Chu Tian had finally graduated from Anthony—more accurately, he’d been expelled. In the saintly priest’s words, never in the continent’s history had there been a student as hopeless as Chu Tian. The most basic healing spell took him over a month to learn, and its only effect was soothing Little White’s muscles.

But Chu Tian didn’t leave empty-handed. The dragon’s blood bath had not been in vain. As confirmed by Anthony, after being soaked in the blood of a fire dragon, Chu Tian was now immune to all fire magic! Still, the ever-dissatisfied young master often mused about bleeding a couple of other dragons for their power as well.

Finally, a thoroughly disappointed Anthony had sent him off into the world. “Grow through experience!”

Nonetheless, Chu Tian felt genuine gratitude toward his teacher. At parting, Anthony had stuffed all his most precious treasures into a spatial ring for Chu Tian, just so that his pupil wouldn’t embarrass him after leaving the mountain. Watching his teacher’s solitary, aged figure, Chu Tian’s heart ached.

But that sorrow was quickly replaced with vexation. Little White was impossible to feed! After the spoiled pup had tasted wine once, he became obsessed. Whenever Little White licked his lips and gazed up with tearful eyes, a few silver coins vanished from Chu Tian’s purse.

Finally, they reached the imperial capital. Feeling the emptiness of his purse, Chu Tian sighed, but at least he had a generous elder brother.

“Boss! The bill!” Pulling himself from his thoughts, Chu Tian scooped up Little White—both man and dog well fed and tipsy.

“Twelve silver coins,” the rotund owner waddled over, his barrel-shaped torso quivering.

“So expensive? When did prices in the capital get so high?” Chu Tian patted his purse again.

The owner’s eyes flicked over Chu Tian’s attire. “Pompeii has always been this pricey, priest.”

“Oh? Then wait a moment. My friend is on his way—he’ll pay for me.” Chu Tian patted Little White and sat again.

“Hmph, you’re not trying to skip out on the bill, are you?” The owner’s fat jiggled with his suspicion.

“I merely forgot to bring enough money. But…” Chu Tian kept his smile.

“So you admit it! No more excuses!” The owner’s greedy gaze landed on Chu Tian’s staff. “Leave this as collateral, then.”

Chu Tian’s expression grew cold. “Just wait. Your money is coming.”

With that, he shot the owner a sidelong glance and turned toward the window, ignoring him. Petty profiteers like this existed in every world—entangling with them was pointless. Stroking Little White in his arms, Chu Tian watched the street and waited for Canas to arrive.

He had already chosen this unremarkable tavern to avoid drawing attention, given his empty pockets—but never imagined he’d still run into trouble.

“Well, you sure talk big for someone who can’t pay. Leave your staff here!” The owner thrust a thick hand toward Chu Tian.

“Get lost!” Chu Tian brought the staff down with a thud, his eyes flashing.

“Why, you little priest, you dare threaten me?” The owner rolled up his sleeves. “You come in here and act like some big shot!”

“He told you to get lost! Didn’t you hear?” A powerful hand seized the owner’s arm, stopping his outburst.

“Brother!” Chu Tian smiled as he rose to greet the noble, splendidly dressed Canas.

“Marquis Canas? B-brother?” The owner, recognizing this imperial dignitary, wilted in Canas's grip.

The server, who had returned with Canas, hurried to help the obese man into a chair.

“Ha, you look well,” Canas clapped Chu Tian on the shoulder approvingly. “How is your teacher, His Grace Anthony?”

Anthony? Teacher? Thud—the once-stalwart server fainted dead away.