Chapter 7: Take a Break

The Kingdom of Aithelin, Huicheng, Nanming District, Star Fall Street 37, Li En’s new home.

It was a three-story wooden house with a courtyard, located in Nanming’s commercial zone, pleasant with flowers and grass, though its origin—

“Take this house beyond the fourth ring and leave my daughter!”—probably came from that.

Classic web novel trope: the domineering father-in-law’s gift meant to humiliate, oddly tinged.

If he’s using a house to humiliate you, why give a fourth-ring one instead of a first-ring? First-ring mansions are unaffordable even by the rich—never mind then.

Looking at the freshly painted roof tiles, Li En set down the paint bucket, satisfied.

As a man seeking peace, to own a small home so quickly felt like a dream.

Though the house was a gift from the broken engagement, its origin was slightly odd, yet Li En was quite pleased with this new home—at least, he no longer feared waking to a dwarf’s musket pressed against his forehead.

The Zhian here was far better than the docks district; not far away stood a police kiosk, with patrols visible at intervals.

Nanming District of Huicheng, also called Nanmen District, was part of the commoner zone, bordering the outer wall and directly adjacent to the city’s most crime-ridden docks district—the very place where Li En had previously lived.

Li En’s current status still counted as noble; his original family had cast him out for marriage but never fully erased his name.

In this grand era, a fallen noble forcing his way into wealthier commercial or political districts was normal—if you were educated, literate, you could find a respectable job, and perhaps, through persistence, rise again.

Yet now, his “fiancée” living in Huicheng’s central district had tossed him a house in the far outer ring’s commoner zone—clearly implying, “Don’t come near me,” “Don’t wander.”

“No problem, I don’t mind—give me more! Better yet, use the deed to slap my face!”

Yet Li En happily accepted this “broken-engagement compensation,” even spending time daily decorating his new home.

The house was eight-tenths new, with a master bedroom on the third floor, solid materials, but lonely to live in alone, and tedious to maintain.

A house’s value lies in location; Li En’s was among the cheapest tier.

Locals likely couldn’t comprehend Li En’s longing for his “home,” or the Earthling mindset of a noble ecstatic over a free house.

These past days, he’d repaired the lawn and fence, repainted the gate, and spent an hour making his own door sign.

But in truth, while working or amusing himself, his mind never rested.

He was pondering what to do next.

“It’s time to organize the intelligence and set the next priorities.” Even as his hands worked, the information had already been consolidated.

As a former office overtime king, Li En had a good habit: planning short- and long-term schedules.

Tasks piled up, some light, some heavy, some urgent, some delayable.

Even among delayable tasks, some demanded serious attention, others could be ignored as if they never existed.

List your tasks, adjust progress regularly, distinguish urgency and importance, avoid chaos.

On his notebook, short-, mid-, and long-term goals were brief.

【1. Short-term: adapt to the local environment and integrate.】

【2. Mid-term: acquire transcendent power and develop myself.】

【3. Long-term: handle the two bombs (Heroine Laina and the underground demon god), and survive.】

“First and foremost, become a true person of this world.”

Li En never underestimated sentient beings’ rejection and hostility toward outsiders; kindness and affection were usually limited to one’s own kind.

“Integration means identity, relationships, and residence.”

Li En was grateful for this gift—residence was not merely shelter, but proof to others that “I am not a transient,” the prerequisite for social integration.

Even a doghouse earned more trust and job offers than a vagrant or traveler.

His identity seemed stable—“Classical Paladin” was an incredibly useful title.

It was said Paladin morality was guaranteed by deities, but Classical Oath Paladins relied less on deities, instead anchoring their ethics in their own heart and actions—so much so that most locals viewed them as living saints.

Knowledge and common sense, however, progressed oddly—knowledge here was prohibitively expensive; Li En had nearly spent his money and could no longer afford this bottomless pit.

Libraries existed, but they were private property of organizations or nobles—he couldn’t enter.

“Perhaps I should find a part-time job—no need to be full-time; just a title could help build new social ties.” For local factions, such things were probably routine benefits.

In fact, the female officer had approached Li En twice, inviting him to join the police force.

Li En merely replied he’d consider it—never outright refused. That was already a polite refusal.

He wasn’t averse to becoming an enforcer; in truth, the spirit Su Xing had always desired it, but he suppressed it.

“No choice—even if I wanted to join the establishment, the docks district police station is far too hopeless.”

Su Xing was a Covenant Knight of the Blind Lady, a specialized advancement of orthodox Paladins under the God of Law.

Many of his abilities required him to be an enforcer; donning the uniform might grant a slight power boost.

But the docks district police station was clearly a terrible starting point.

Li En must also consider his life after the Spirit Card expires.

This world had feudal nobles, kings, divine churches with armed forces, and powerful transnational organizations.

That meant “Aithelin Kingdom enforcers” bore no resemblance to Earth’s understanding.

Often, they represented neither “the kingdom” nor even “law.”

An enforcer’s strength depended entirely on their backing; the commoner district police station was likely just a nominal organization with official title.

Li En had inquired: most officers were local commoners; few were even post-evolution practitioners. The powerful leopard-woman was a local returnee adventurer.

From a long-term perspective, the docks district police station was no good choice.

As a seasoned bureaucrat, he knew the importance of a starting position: even if you were strong in a remote suburb, you’d never rise high; a lowly post in a provincial capital could easily lead to leadership, while a township official might spend his life managing only township affairs.

Even under a nationwide system recognizing administrative ranks, this world’s organizations were fragmented.

Here, a “public post” was not employment—it was allegiance; joining meant becoming their personal retainer, essentially a modern private soldier.

Li En heard the head of docks district police was merely a titular baron, powerless even within the city.

“In a couple days, I’ll visit the church district in the city center—perhaps a knightly order is recruiting. Starting as a junior clerk wouldn’t be bad.”

Su Xing was a Paladin of the Blind Lady, whose holy symbol was the Scales. Paladins were typically lifelong; he could try joining an organization—but here lay a small problem.

“The God of Law is dead (trembling voice)!”

According to Li En’s sources, even the year of the Scales Lady’s death was unknown; Su Xing’s fragmented memories placed it in AD 317 (Storm Season). The current year was HE 221 (Summer Fire Season)—no match.

Li En didn’t even know how the calendar worked; researching history or chronology? Books on astronomy and history were absurdly expensive.

“The Scales Lady has likely been gone for centuries.”

This was why Li En was called a “Classical Oath Paladin”—to locals, he truly seemed like an ancient hero. To reach such strength without divine aid, relying solely on oaths and self-discipline, was extraordinary.

His power was destined to fade; with his former Paladin status and literacy, he could easily secure a clerical post in a divine church as a devout follower.

“One step at a time—I need a mid- to high-tier organization to support my growth.”

With divine and oath constraints, a Paladin’s virtue and status were nearly unquestionable—good news for Li En.

A higher starting status made acquiring transcendent power and resources far easier.

Li En didn’t want to be a lazy day-man—but this was a world ruled by strength. If he’d once hesitated, the dwarf’s musket pressed to his forehead had made it clear.

“To become a day-man, you must first have the power to protect yourself.”

Snippets of information he’d uncovered further confirmed this world’s brutal reality.

Top-tier individuals possessed power rivaling nations—some could hurl entire realms into hell.

This kingdom had been struck down by the “Great Red Dragon,” its capital obliterated in one blow, reduced from quasi-empire to near-collapse, still not recovered.

Fortunately, such beings were exceedingly rare—even Su Xing’s fragmented memories held no such monster.

By this world’s standards, it wasn’t a dragon attack—it was divine punishment.

Reality was: the “divine punishment” theory was widespread in the kingdom, and had severely undermined royal authority—no one could guarantee the Great Red Dragon wouldn’t return for another bite.

This was why Li En refused to join the local police: due to the disaster’s ripple effects, even within this city, the local lord held no real authority.

“After the Dragonblood Catastrophe, the kingdom shattered; at least three-quarters of its territory declared independence, becoming today’s Pearl Seven Nations. The remaining lords nominally loyal to the crown merely paid lip service—the royal house controls only the ruined capital and the new capital.”

The count of Huicheng was said to be a famously loyal conservative, yet even within his own city, he was not the strongest.

Divine churches, the Explorers’ Guild, even the Physicians’ and Alchemists’ Guilds—all transnational organizations—held more sway than this backwater noble.

Serving under him as a constable? He’d likely remain one forever.

The kingdom had barely gained a second Heroine, hoping she’d unite the realm and spark renewal—then she vanished, triggering fresh panic and despair.

“The second Heroine, Laina—more accurately, the seventeenth Heroine. But the previous Heroine was so dominant that everyone poured excessive hope onto the new one. Supposedly, her talent matched the predecessor’s; she was once seen as the hope of a new era.”

Li En glanced at the silver two-handed sword in his hand—“Courage”—and sighed.

It was a fine blade, but it couldn’t be shown openly. Fortunately, because the previous Hero of this kingdom was so famous, many warriors on the streets carried various versions of “Hero’s Sword.”

“Long-term, I must resolve these two bombs.”

One: the demon god escaping in two years—the most lethal, yet least urgent, because Li En currently had no standing to intervene.

Even if he wanted to “report it,” there was no one to report to, and no way to explain the source.

Seal and inspect underground ruins? You’d kill our livelihood with one sentence?

“First, develop myself. When the time comes, save if I can, flee if I can’t.”

The second unexploded bomb: the “untamed slave” in his book—the Heroine Laina.

Clearly a massive trap, but Li En had no way out—if the mastermind behind his entire ordeal was some great being, they were likely at divine level.

“I can’t even remove the shackles and set her free.”

Li En would distance himself from the Heroine for his own safety—but the newly awakened Su Xing could never allow an innocent victim to remain bound!

That day, Su Xing had rushed in without hesitation, attempting to break the Heroine’s chains—but it was useless; even in possession, Su Xing could not open the strange metal prison.

Yet not entirely fruitless: when Su Xing tried to communicate with the Heroine, he confirmed one other thing.

“...This Heroine is probably insane.”

Any approach elicited only whispered cries of “death.” Su Xing’s kindness received no normal response.

Li En sighed—may the Heroine not die inside his book. She was already a mythic being, seemingly unfed for now, but life cannot be bound forever—she would die, eventually.

It's three in the afternoon; time to clock in.

Li En, with no job, still found himself a shift to work.

The cost of normally acquiring transcendent power was now beyond his means; the time on his Hero Card was dwindling, so his primary goal was naturally to make the most of it.

“Let’s head back to the docks and crack down on evil—anything to earn a bit.” The docks, neighboring the worst-ranked Zhian district, still had some advantages.

(End of Chapter)