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But by then, he was nearly 30 years old. For the Pigman race, whose life expectancy was not high to start with, he was considered to already be in his late middle age and was close to old age. What was worse was that because his body had been possessed, and because of the struggle between his soul and the other soul, he was greatly weakened. In addition, to redress the grievance he had when he was a youth, he had resorted to using a method that risked the life of him to fight and defeat his old enemy, Ruby Slyu. Thus, his vitality was further undermined to a great extent. Though he was merely 30 years old, he looked as though he was more than 50 years old.

The Republic of Northwest had very resolute folkways. Even if it was a man who was paramount and powerful with great wealth could forget about “robbing the cradle.” A man with a touching story along the line of “you bear a great resemblance to my late wife” might probably be able to move one or two budding women in search of first love. However, Fira really did not have a late wife—he was essentially just an old virgin man.

An old and ugly man who did not know how to please women. He did have some wealth and status and also seemed to be quite a celebrity in the field of magic, which was perhaps enough capital for him to have many wives in other countries. But in the Republic of Northwest, this would not work at all.

So Fira was unable to find a wife. Eventually, he chose to adopt a child to inherit the name “Kenji.” In the future, this child would be the one to provide for him in old age and give him a proper burial when he died.

His foster son was naturally from the Pigman race. His name was Crewe. At the time when Fira adopted him, he was just an orphan from a troop of refugees, traversing the desert in search of hope. He was skinny and short. Other than being honest and obedient, he had no other apparent merits. However, under Fira’s fostering and education, not only did he grow tall and strong, but he was also educated and learned. He even acquired some very useful skills. He was a remarkable young man.

He was only 14 years old this year. To the Pigman race, he had just come of age. But many people had approached Fira to discuss his marriage, hoping their daughters could marry this fine boy.

When Fira got home, Crewe was working on a wooden staff. He had polished the body of the staff made of fine wood to make it smooth and wound fine twine around it to keep it from falling out of his hand. Then he cut open a piece of cork, hollowed out the inside of it and put in a piece of “sleeping spell” crystal that he had prepared beforehand. He re-closed the cork that was cut apart and wound the silk threads that had been cultivated before incorporating the blood of a demon beast tightly around it. Lastly, he fixed this into the shell of the hardwood as the head of the staff.

All this was easier said than done. The grasp of the texture of the wooden staff, its length, weight, as well as the degree of winding would all affect the overall quality of the final product. But Crewe had done a very good job. Though it was still not perfect, at least it was well beyond the usual “qualified” standard. So what he produced, in the end, was a sleeping wand of topnotch quality that could use the sleeping spell three times. After using it to cast three sleeping spells, it could even be recharged.

This kind of wand was not powerful and lacked storage space. For the professional adventurers, it seemed to be a little too weak. But for the adventure-themed amusement park, “Dragon and Dungeons,” beneath the Void City, it was just the right supply of consumable. This dungeon consumed a sizable amount of low-level magic props daily, and it required many magic mechanics to supplement them.

Crewe was a magic mechanic, and he was a remarkable one at that.

All in all, he only took two years to learn and master this technique to be able to produce a magic wand of such fine quality. This speed was considered outstanding, even in the Isuka School of Magic.

Seeing how serious his son looked at work, and looking at the excellent product he finally completed, Fira could not help laughing.

“Your skill has improved again,” he said.

It was only then that Crewe noticed his father’s return. He hurriedly got to his feet to greet his father.

It was not obvious when Crewe was sitting down. Yet at this very moment where he stood up, the stark difference between the physiques of father and son was suddenly made apparent—Fira was almost only at his son’s chest. His waist was not even as thick as his son’s thigh. Compared to his son, who had a burly build that was somewhat similar to the characteristic of a Bearman, Fira was like a piece of withered and yellow old bamboo, where even a gust of wind would seem capable of blowing him away.

At Fira’s return, Crewe was overjoyed. Since joining Palin’s research institute, Fira often had to stay at the institute for a few consecutive days, and thus, he had been returning home far less often than usual. Crewe was often worried about his aging father and had advised him more than once not to overtire himself by working too hard. Now, he was more than happy to see his father returning home in good health.

After accompanying Crewe to the town’s magic commercial firm to deliver the goods, Fira bought some food and wine, which kind of took Crewe by surprise—in his impression, his father never drank, other than that time when his father heard that Instructor Slyu of the Ministry of Mines’ exploration team was going through a divorce back at home. Even when Uncle Wilder came to visit, his father would only serve beverages like juice.

Why did his father suddenly feel like drinking wine today? Was there something worth being happy about?

Between father and son, naturally there was no topic that was taboo, so he asked directly. Fira laughed loudly when he heard Crewe’s question. Then mysteriously, he said, “Not telling you.”

He was unwilling to lie to his son, so he simply said nothing at all.

He pondered about it, and then after a while, he said, “If anyone asks about me, just tell them that I’ve grabbed hold of a great opportunity and am in the midst of a retreat as I try to break through to the Legendary Realm.”

Though Crewe had a bold and candid appearance, he was actually very sensitive. Immediately, he understood his father’s meaning.

To be able to use “break through to the Legendary Realm” as an excuse to cover up meant that this was no small matter. If his father had to hide this from him, then it had to be for his own good.

After a moment of silence, he asked, “So will I be able to see you again?”

Fira laughed and said, “You can rest assured that we will meet again. Though... it may take a while.”

Crewe laughed too and replied, “That’s all right. I’ll tell your grandchildren that their grandfather suddenly coruscated the delicate feelings of a poet and decided to go on an impromptu trip where he walked to wherever his feet brought him to.”

“This boy! This is an extract from the story written by the novelist, Franz, right!” Fira said and laughed. “But that’s quite a good way to put it. I still remember a line from his book that says, ‘Life is not only about the present; there’s still poetry and distance...’ Let’s put it this way, tell the children that I’ve gone traveling to learn about poetry and distance. Though I may be away for many years, I’ll definitely come back. By then, I will tell them all about the people and things I’ve seen and met on my journey. I’ll tell them about the scenery beyond this world, and I might even bring back treasures that are seldom seen on Earth!”

He smiled happily, and his face was relaxed and happy.