Leo silently turned his attention back to planning their upcoming itinerary.
Handing in the mission?
Right, those two seemed to be assassins from the Thieves' Guild who had taken a mission targeting Baron Hawthorne.
But seeing how relaxed they were, the mission must have already been completed, right?
Leo’s decision to head to Worcester City was naturally based on careful consideration.
First, and most urgent—intelligence confirmation.
Though he had successfully used the "Imperial Envoy" banner to bluff the Gareth father-son duo, it was ultimately a fake. Gareth would surely bicker with the Church over this, and the Church would have to confirm it with their superiors.
With the back-and-forth of official documents and mutual buck-passing in this fantasy world where communication relied on shouting and transportation relied on walking, it wouldn't be settled in less than ten days or half a month.
"Even in those god-view strategy games, getting government decrees through is a struggle, let alone in a real feudal bureaucracy."
Leo sneered inwardly.
This vacuum of "administrative lag" was their best time to make a run for it. A border stronghold like Worcester City was often a hub for the flow of information; it was the perfect place to test the waters and see how far the fire had spread.
Second, regarding Lucrezia’s disguise.
The fact that Baron Hawthorne had recognized Lucrezia at a glance served as a wake-up call for Leo.
Although Leo, who now had some understanding of this world, felt that a man like Baron Gareth—living at the edge of the empire—recognizing Lucrezia was a rare exception, the fact that one Gareth existed meant there could be a second or a third.
"I need to see if I can get some magic items or something."
Leo glanced at the little girl in his arms.
The high-end stuff that could change one's appearance definitely wouldn't be found in small towns; he’d have to try his luck in a big city.
Third, about that strange cat.
Leo keenly noticed that yesterday, whenever he looked at Worcester City on the map, Vespa would show an expression that said "as expected" or "I knew it."
At first, Leo thought it was an illusion, but after testing her a few times, he was certain: this cat had some special obsession with Worcester City.
"Since I've decided to accept her as a teammate, it's necessary to figure out her background."
Leo thought righteously to himself:
That's right, I’m just that double-standard! Everyone has their privacy, sure. But the premise is that your privacy can't become my landmine.
Fourth, physical needs.
Oh, not the kind of physical needs involving brothels, don't get the wrong idea...
He had been riding a horse for days, which was nothing short of torture for Leo, a pampered modern man used to modern transportation. The inside of his thighs was burning with pain, likely rubbed raw. He urgently needed a comfortable carriage, preferably a luxury version with dampening runes.
Finally, the most realistic and headache-inducing point—getting money and finding ways to increase his strength.
These two things were actually one and the same.
Regarding increasing his strength, Leo had actually conducted tests long ago:
First, imitating the "Paradox-style war criminal" playstyle of slaughtering every city he visited wouldn't work. Leo had observed that killing small fry whose strength was far below his own yielded almost zero "experience points." It was like a max-level character going to a starter village to massacre the residents; other than getting a red name and attracting guards, there was no benefit.
Second, hiding in the deep mountains to become a "Ten-Mile Slope Sword God" was too inefficient. While he could theoretically camp out in a monster-infested mountain range to grind mobs, the practical difficulty was immense.
For one, Leo was no Bear-style survival master who could "start with a knife and scavenge all equipment" while thriving in a primeval jungle, eating things that were crunchy and tasted like chicken. He also had to look after Lucrezia; if they really went into the woods, they'd probably go insane before they made much progress.
Furthermore, and most importantly—finding monsters was hard. High-tier magic beasts just looked different from humans; they weren't stupid. At that level, not only was their sense of territory extremely strong, but they were also all sneaky bastards who excelled at the way of the turtle. They were experts at hiding and knew how to read the room, preying only on the weak. If you were weak, they’d jump out of the bushes to gank you; if you were strong, they’d shrink into their dens and play dead.
Rather than playing hide-and-seek like a headless fly with those slippery magic beasts across the mountains, the probability of encountering an "experience pack" was higher if he stayed within human society.
Besides, there was one final, most important point—
He had to hurry to the Floating City.
He had to take advantage of the fact that the heat surrounding Lucrezia, the "fallen princess," hadn't completely cooled off, and while the teacher-student bond between her and that legendary Arcanum Public Occult Academy instructor hadn't been completely eroded by time—
He needed to get into the Floating City quickly and check the records in that supposedly "omniscient" library. He had to figure out how to undo this god-awful 【Life Link】 that could cause his sudden death at any moment!
Leo established his policy in his heart:
"So, blending into society is the current meta."
And since he had decided to blend into society, all problems ultimately looped back to that eternal starting point—
Money.
Furthermore, as the team grew, expenses naturally skyrocketed.
Leo silently calculated his assets:
The "local specialties" sponsored by Baron Hawthorne amounted to twenty-eight gold coins. Adding Lucrezia's private savings from selling her jewelry, and the value of these three high-quality warhorses if they were sold...
It seemed like a fortune.
But this money had to be divided according to the rules set beforehand: 50% into the public fund, and the remaining 50% split equally. Of course, Leo was always a man of his word; he would take a portion of his own share and give it to Lucrezia as pocket money.
With everything tallied up, the "nest egg" the entire team could use was less than fifty gold coins.
This amount was enough to live as a wealthy man in a rural town. But for them, who were headed to Arcanum on the Floating City, it was a mere drop in the bucket!
You see, the current price for a single ticket on an airship from the Virado Federation to the Floating City had been driven up to an insane 100 gold coins!
Yes, it was that ridiculous.
Back in the day when the route first opened, it only cost 1 gold coin per person. Those mage lords originally wanted to develop the tourism industry to earn some extra pocket change for their research funds. They never expected the entire continent to go crazy!
Who wouldn't want to see the legendary "city in the sky"? Who wouldn't want to experience the charm of magic technology?
The result was countless tourists flocking there, a mix of all sorts of people, turning the entire Floating City into a chaotic mess. Those old scholars, who were obsessed with academia and suffered from severe social anxiety, were so annoyed they were practically balding.
So, after painful reflection, they began to restrict the flow of people. The most direct method was—raising the price!
The current 100 gold coins wasn't just for a ticket; it was equivalent to a "green card" for Arcanum. With it, one could not only legally enter the Floating City but also enjoy massive discounts on subsequent transportation, accommodation, and shopping.
After all, as the world's technological frontier, a gathering place for high-level intellectuals, and an absolutely neutral ivory tower, the comfort and happiness index of life in the Floating City simply crushed that of the major capital cities on the ground. Even if you were just washing dishes inside, you earned gold coins! That was true hard currency!
Consequently, the number of "runners" trying to smuggle themselves in every year was countless.
Initially, the old scholars still practiced "mage humanitarianism," simply deporting those they caught. But once those "runners" saw there was no cost to failing, they thought, "Hey! No risk? What are we waiting for?"
They became even more frenzied, with various "illegal routes" strategies emerging—hiding in cargo holds, hanging onto the airship's base, or even trying to fly there on rudimentary flying machines...
Eventually, the old scholars were pushed to their limits and deployed magic turrets and construct guards, finally giving that craze of illegal immigration a physical cooldown.
Rate on N.U.
