Chapter Seventeen: The Fiefdom

Komer sat quietly in the room, legs folded, hands gently resting between them with the palms up. His upright posture and serious expression indicated that he was not resting but rather in some strange state of meditation. With his eyes closed, he allowed his mind to wander across the endless expanse of the sky. A subtle flow, accompanying the movement of his consciousness, slowly slid down along the contours of his brain, passing gently through every part of his body. An indescribable sense gradually spread throughout his body—a feeling beyond words, as if he were turning into vapor and floating freely in the air, wandering through every corner of the sky.

The room was filled with an unusual atmosphere; it seemed entirely enveloped in a peculiar ambiance. A faint spiritual energy emanating from Komer’s body slowly circled within the room, and the light inside seemed distorted, undergoing chaotic refraction. The bright sunlight streaming through the windows turned into a strange shade of blue-green, with signs of it deepening further. If anyone entered at that moment and saw this bizarre sight, they might think they had entered a netherworld—a strange realm accessible only to vengeful spirits. Those spirits with a trace of consciousness might, if fortunate, use their host’s powerful magic to enter such realms. Of course, such phenomena might only occur once every few decades.

The faint spiritual energy gradually dissipated, swirling like a mist above Komer’s head before slowly disappearing. He slowly opened his eyes. He could sense that his body had changed again. It was a strange technique of unknown origin; his teacher called it yoga. Even the teacher himself couldn’t understand why this technique seemed to have little effect on him, but it worked differently when applied to Komer. Although practicing this so-called yoga didn’t bring immediate changes to Komer, he could feel that it was gradually altering him in every aspect—both his mental strength and physical stamina, though the changes were subtle, they were indeed happening.

Even the professor himself didn’t know what aspect of a person’s abilities this technique, which he had acquired by chance, was meant to enhance—whether it was physical strength or mental power. From the professor’s own perspective, he didn’t find this technique, obtained through an accident, to be particularly effective. As for physical strength, Komer didn’t notice any significant improvement in his stamina. Compared to someone like Ilot, who was born a warrior, Komer felt inferior. As for mental development, he also saw no progress in his ability to use and learn magic—at least he couldn’t sense any improvement in his skills. Yet Komer did feel one thing clearly: his body seemed filled with vitality, yes, vitality—the vitality of life. After careful consideration, he named this energy within his body “vitality,” a special force that allowed one’s potential to be fully realized. To Komer, this vitality, originating from the essence of life, seemed to be a combination of mental and physical strength, and its level directly influenced the growth of both.

Outside, the sun shone brightly, and beautiful kingfishers danced lightly on the green branches, occasionally using their brightly colored beaks to tidy their feathers. The melodious singing didn’t come from them but from a oriole on another branch. A gentle breeze blew across the flower bed, causing the budding lotus flowers with their golden edges to slowly unfold their shy petals. Motionless, Komer could even smell the rich fragrance emanating from deep within the flowers.

Awakened from meditation, Komer carefully experienced all of this. Every detail of the outside world entered his mind without omission—even the ants crawling in the corners seemed clearly visible. Komer couldn’t explain this strange phenomenon. Every time he returned from meditation, he found his senses extremely sharp, so sharp that it scared him. Everything around him seemed to be within the scope of his awareness; even the fall of a grain of rice on the ground could be clearly felt. However, to his disappointment, this extraordinary sensitivity didn’t last long. As his physical state gradually returned to normal from its dormant state, that sensitivity also disappeared naturally. This was the conclusion Komer reached after practicing this yoga technique countless times.

Leaping to the ground, Komer stretched his body casually. He found that his flexibility, agility, reaction time, and coordination had all improved compared to before, especially in the first two aspects—it was as if some kind of energy flowed through his veins. As Komer moved, faint sounds were made, and finally, he completed this exercise. Such exercises couldn’t be done at any time or place; otherwise, they would be ineffective. Komer could sense when it was time to perform them, just like one feels hunger and needs to eat—a distinct sensation.

The sense of comfort throughout his body couldn’t replace the real-world troubles. Komer slowly stepped out of the room. His coming-of-age ceremony was tomorrow. What awaited him? He couldn’t predict it. His father’s attitude seemed to have changed greatly too—becoming silent and gloomy. Could he still feel guilt or pity for his son, whom he regarded as a good-for-nothing? Komer didn’t believe it. Over these past few days, he hadn’t gone outside. In his family’s eyes, he seemed to have suddenly become more honest. He didn’t want to see that look in their eyes. Could this coming-of-age ceremony, which seemed to determine his fate, truly control his destiny?

A gloomy atmosphere hung between the two of them. Eilot and Puber were both in low spirits. Tomorrow, Komer’s fate would be the same as what they would face in a month. Eilot raised his head and downed a large glass of beer, allowing the foam to drip down his chin. He slammed the glass back on the table and shouted, “Bring me more beer!”

“Enough, Eilot. You’ve had enough. Look at the barrel behind you!” Puber, though also unhappy, managed to stay restrained. “When Komer comes and sees you like this, he’ll be upset. You’re already in a bad mood—stop causing him more trouble.”

“Sigh, there’s no need for me to bother him; I’m afraid he’s already numb by now. Send him to the Caucasus—hehe, the Caucasus, what a wonderful place! Fertile lands, vast forests… It’s just a pity no one gets the chance to enjoy it there. It seems the Grand Duke still harbors hatred from those old days and truly intends to doom me to death. If I had known this, I would have just stayed in exile outside instead.” Although Iloth’s tongue was somewhat numb and his bloodshot eyes stared blankly, his mind was clearer than ever. The effects of alcohol made him speak without restraint. “To become a lord there, a lord of a village with just a few hundred residents—see what kind of people they are: liars, thieves, robbers, rapists, murderers, heretics, adventurers, treasure hunters… Even prisoners exiled to military service wouldn’t want to go there. Hehe, and then there’s Fort Damansky—I’m afraid before he even gets a chance to change his clothes, he’ll end up dead.”

Before Puber could respond, Kommer’s clear voice came from outside the door: “Iloth, is that how you curse me?”

Kommer entered without the slightest hint of displeasure. Puber could see that even on Kommer’s expressionless face, there was a trace of excitement and anticipation. Could it be that things had changed, and the Grand Duke had reconsidered his decision?

“Boss, has anything changed?” Puber asked eagerly, rejuvenated.

“What change? As soon as the coming-of-age ceremony is over tomorrow, I can leave Sepulus and head to my own domain in the Caucasus to take up my post.” Kommer remained calm, his lips curved in a smile that left Puber baffled—how could his boss remain so indifferent? Did he not know the situation in the Caucasus, or had he been so shocked that his mind had short-circuited?

Even the slightly drunk Iloth noticed his boss’s cheerful mood. He couldn’t understand how his boss could still be happy at such a time. Even if things were hopeless, there should be a limit. Going to the Caucasus meant likely never returning—forever separated from the world. Overcome with emotion, Iloth whispered, “Boss, I think you’d better run away. Puber and I will accompany you. Instead of going to the Caucasus to die, let’s flee the kingdom and seek a way to survive.”