Ethan smoothed out the parchment, picked up the quill, and dipped it into the ink.
The tip of the pen hovered over the paper, hesitating to touch the surface.
Ethan stared at the blank parchment, his brow furrowed slightly.
Writing a letter was far more difficult than brewing potions.
Every time he picked up the pen, a flurry of words flooded his mind.
He wanted to tell them he was doing well, ask how his father’s health was, and find out if his mother was still losing sleep over worry.
But when it came time to actually write, the words stuck in his throat, and he couldn't squeeze out a single character.
What should he say?
Should he say he was doing great at Blood Bone Tower?
He truly was.
He had Grade Five Aptitude, an independent villa, a potion business that raked in gold every day, and the strength to face a Third-Tier Apprentice without any pressure.
The so-called geniuses who had enrolled at the same time as him were still racking their brains to condense their tenth rune, while he was already considering how to break through to become an Official Wizard.
But could he write about any of that?
No.
The letter could only say, "Everything is well, do not worry." It could only say, "Cultivation is smooth, and I am in good health." It could only say, "The academy food is good, and my classmates are harmonious."
He couldn't mention that he had killed hundreds of magical beasts in a secret realm, or that he had crushed the bones of a Grade Five genius on the Life-and-Death Stage. He couldn't say he was nearly killed in an ambush by eight Lost Forest apprentices at a mine, and he certainly couldn't say that in two years, he would be following a Star Wizard into a World War.
None of that could be written.
Ethan took a deep breath and touched the quill to the paper.
"The academy will soon have an important curriculum arrangement. I need to devote all my effort to my studies, and I fear I may not be able to send home letters for several years. This is not out of a lack of filial piety, but because my cultivation has reached a critical point where I dare not be distracted. I hope Father and Mother can understand.
Attached to this letter are three hundred magic stones. If there is a need at home, please use them freely.
I have no worries about food or clothing at the academy, and my resources are plentiful, so do not fret for me. Father, you are getting older; please prioritize your health and delegate more of the county's affairs to trustworthy people. Mother, please take care of yourself as well, and do not grieve from missing me.
Once I have completed my studies, I will surely return home to visit.
Your son, Ethan Leo."
Ethan set down the pen, picked up the parchment, and blew on the ink to dry it.
He stood up, pushed open the study door, went downstairs, and walked out of the villa, heading straight for the Spirit Bone Guard stationed nearby.
Hearing footsteps, the Spirit Bone Guard looked up. "What is it?"
"Sir, I'd like to send a letter."
As he spoke, Ethan held the letter in one hand and a small cloth bag of magic stones in the other.
The Spirit Bone Guard took the letter and the bag. "Ethan Leo, this is the fourth letter you've sent this year. Including the magic stones, the fee is ten magic stones."
Without hesitation, Ethan pulled ten magic stones from his storage ring and handed them over.
The Spirit Bone Guard took the stones and tucked them into its robe.
"Very well. The letter will be delivered. If there's nothing else, leave quickly. Do not disturb my rest."
...
The moment the thirtieth rune settled firmly in his mental sea, Ethan exhaled a long breath of turbid air.
Two years and tens of thousands of magic stones later, he had finally reached the level of a Third-Tier Apprentice before the World War began.
In fact, he had far exceeded it.
And this was only because the breathing technique he practiced was the standardized meditation method issued by the Wizard Council.
While it was decent, it didn't perfectly align with Ethan's 91% Wood Affinity, which had slowed his progress.
If he had been practicing an Intermediate-level or even a High-level meditation method...
He opened his eyes, stood up from the floor of the cultivation room, and stretched his body, which hadn't seen much vigorous movement in a long time. He walked to the window and pushed it open.
The sunlight outside made him squint slightly.
It was time to make some preparations.
The trading area was as lively as ever.
Stalls lined both sides of the stone path, one after another. Merchants sold materials, Wizardry Tools, potions, and knowledge crystals, their shouts rising and falling in the air.
Apprentices in various robes wove through the stalls; some crouched down to haggle, while others turned items over in their hands, inspecting them carefully.
It seemed that the upcoming World War was still too distant for these ordinary Wizard Apprentices.
Ethan blended into the crowd, his gaze sweeping over the stalls as he walked at a moderate pace.
He wasn't in a hurry to buy.
He would do a lap first to get a feel for the market prices.
After wandering for about fifteen minutes, Ethan stopped in front of a stall.
Various staves of different lengths and thicknesses—wooden, bone, and metal—leaned against the rack behind the stall owner.
The owner was a middle-aged man in his forties, wearing a dark brown short robe, with the practiced smile of a businessman on his face.
Ethan crouched down and picked up a wooden staff about 1.2 meters long.
The staff was a deep brown color, made of some kind of hardwood. Its surface was polished smooth and warm to the touch, devoid of unnecessary decoration except for a thumb-sized emerald-green crystal embedded at the head. It felt slightly heavy, weighing about three or four pounds.
Ethan sent his mental power into the staff.
A simple mental power amplification circuit was sealed within the crystal. The structure wasn't overly complex, but it was stable. When wood-element energy particles flowed through the circuit, they were compressed and accelerated to a certain degree, increasing the final output power by about ten percent.
An Apprentice-level Wizardry Tool of average quality.
"How much for this?" Ethan looked up at the stall owner.
The owner's eyes lit up, and he leaned forward. "You have a good eye, young man. This is a wood-element staff with a core made from three-hundred-year-old ironwood heartwood. That stone at the head is the crystal nucleus of a wood-element magical beast. Its amplification effect is absolutely top-tier for its grade, and it's durable—it won't give you any trouble for ten years."
Ethan didn't respond, just looking at him silently.
The owner cleared his throat. "Four hundred and twenty magic stones."
"Two hundred and eighty."
"Two hundred and eighty?" The owner's eyes widened. "Young man, that's a brutal cut. The cost of materials alone was three hundred and ninety magic stones. At two hundred and eighty, I wouldn't even break even."
Ethan placed the staff back on the rack and stood up to leave.
"Wait, wait, don't go!" the owner called out hastily. "Three hundred. Three hundred magic stones. I really can't go any lower."
Ethan stopped and turned around. "Deal."
The owner took the magic stones, a wide smile spreading across his face. He nimbly counted them, then picked up the staff and handed it over with both hands. "Safe travels, young man. Come back if you like it."
Ethan took the staff and stowed it in his storage ring.
He didn't leave immediately, continuing to browse the trading area.
Next, he needed to buy survival supplies.
A World War wasn't a field trip; it was a meat grinder that swallowed lives. Food, water, medicine, bandages, spare clothes, tents, sleeping bags, rope, flint, pots and pans, seasonings, sewing kits, first-aid kits, spare boots, rain gear, blankets... he had to prepare everything he could think of.
And he couldn't buy it all in one place.
Buying everything from one shop would be too conspicuous.
Ethan spent most of the afternoon in the trading area, entering hundreds of shops.
He bought only two or three items from each, in small quantities, never haggling and leaving as soon as he paid.
He had to admit, the academy's push for a World War had caused prices to double over the last two years, which was quite absurd.
Returning to the villa, Ethan took the staff out of his ring and gripped it with his right hand.
A faint green light surged from his palm, spreading down his arm to the base of the staff. It climbed up the internal energy circuit, compressing and accelerating before bursting from the emerald crystal at the head.
The light was noticeably brighter than usual.
Ethan could feel that the surrounding wood-element energy particles were much more active than before.
Those particles seemed attracted to the staff, gathering around it until the concentration was at least twenty percent higher than normal.
"Not bad."
The hundred magic stones were well spent.
Rate on N.U.
