Free Web NovelChapter 285: Chapter 273: Taking the Job: [Chef]
Roland’s gaze fell on the parchment scroll glowing with a faint silver light, and a profound confusion flickered in the depths of his eyes.
He didn’t understand.
’Why would this Wizard extend an olive branch to me?’
Under the strict concealment of the Shadow Veil, the Spiritual Power fluctuations he currently projected were barely stronger than an ordinary person’s.
It just barely met the standard of a common Extraordinary.
Not even the formidable Graham or the others who spent day and night with him had seen through the slightest crack in this disguise.
’How could a Wizard I’ve only met once so easily pierce the Shadow Veil’s concealment and perceive the true strength I’m deliberately hiding?’
What made him even more suspicious was that, according to Bronson’s prior description, the requirements to enter the High Tower were exceptionally stringent.
Just to gain the qualification to enter the High Tower, one needed keen Magic Perception Power, a willpower far surpassing that of an ordinary person, and a natural aptitude for Secret Magic Knowledge—all three were indispensable.
In fact, the vast majority were people like Bronson, who had been lucky enough to enter the High Tower but ultimately failed its trials, never even earning the right to wear an Apprentice Robe.
’And the strength I’m currently displaying under the concealment of the Shadow Veil clearly doesn’t meet the standard.’
’Could it be that with the resurgence of the Magic Elements, the High Tower is desperate to expand its ranks?’
Tossing that slightly comical thought aside, Roland looked at Erwin. The man appeared completely self-assured, as if he was certain Roland would accept the scroll. Roland slowly shook his head.
"I’m sorry, uh... sir. I have no intention of becoming a Wizard."
This was, of course, a lie.
With his Professional Panel, Roland would never refuse any Extraordinary Profession.
The Wizard profession was, of course, no exception.
However, his current plans did not include obtaining the power of a Wizard through the High Tower.
The reason was simple.
In Bronson’s description, the High Tower was not an academy with a shared ideal, dedicated to imparting knowledge.
It was more like a nest occupied by powerful Wizards, a dangerous place where power converged but its inhabitants each acted on their own authority.
The inhabitants there, the so-called "Wizards," were by no means benevolent mentors.
They were beings who wielded treacherous powers, each harboring secret motives. Their relationships were rife with calculation, competition, and even darker dealings.
What made Roland even more wary was the environment of Magic itself.
Magic itself was inherently fraught with unpredictable risks.
In a place where so many powerful Casters converged, their Spell Force Fields would inevitably interfere with one another. Secret research and forbidden experiments could be happening right next door. The air there was likely saturated not just with Magic Power, but also with invisible Curses, runaway magical effects, and malicious traps born of jealousy and greed.
One false step, and there might not even be a body left to find.
To Roland, it was no sanctuary of knowledge, but a labyrinth where death lurked around every corner.
He needed Power, but he needed control even more.
Control over the path to obtaining Power, control over his own secrets, and control over his own destiny.
The High Tower might offer a shortcut to Power, but the price could be the loss of his freedom—becoming trapped in a quagmire, a pawn on some old monster’s chessboard, or reduced to ashes in a dangerous Magic experiment.
Therefore, rather than setting foot in that nest of Wizards, filled with unknown perils, he preferred to rely on his own Professional Panel and build his strength systematically.
The Demons of the wilderness were dangerous, to be sure, but their intentions were direct.
The minds of the Wizards in the High Tower, however, were likely more unfathomable than the most cunning creature of the Abyss.
The moment Roland finished speaking, the air seemed to freeze.
For the first time, a genuine flicker of surprise crossed Erwin’s eyes, which were sunken amidst his wrinkles.
It was not anger or disappointment, but more like seeing an apple that should have fallen according to the laws of physics suddenly stop and hover in mid-air.
It was the pure astonishment of seeing an expected trajectory shattered.
This hint of astonishment was like a pebble tossed into a deep pool, sending an almost imperceptible ripple across his dark pupils before vanishing so quickly it might have been an illusion.
A hoarse laugh, like rustling dead leaves, escaped from deep in his throat, carrying an indescribable meaning.
"Refusal?"
He repeated the word. His voice was still low, but it now held a strange cadence, as if he were savoring a foreign and fascinating vocabulary.
His hawk-like gaze didn’t become aggressive at Roland’s refusal. Instead, it grew even more profound, as if trying to penetrate every single thought beneath Roland’s placid exterior.
"This is not a response I had anticipated."
He slowly withdrew his hand, his twig-like fingers still holding the scroll.
Erwin showed no sign of indignant anger, nor did he attempt to persuade or threaten Roland.
"Young man."
His voice returned to its initial, gravelly calm.
"The path to Power is not always a smooth one. For many, the threshold of the High Tower is an unattainable dream, a last straw they would give anything to grasp."
"And yet you see it as a cage?"
His tone rose slightly.
"An interesting choice."
Erwin no longer looked at Roland. Instead, he raised his chin slightly, his gaze seeming to pierce through the low roofs on either side of the street, casting toward some distant, unseen direction, as if listening to whispers on the wind that only he could decipher.
"Time will tell."
His final words, part sigh and part prophecy, drifted lightly down the empty street.
"Remember the choice you made today. I hope that when Power truly comes knocking at your door, you won’t regret today’s... caution."
The moment his voice fell, Erwin’s figure began to blur and turn transparent, like ink dissolving in water.
There was no dazzling light, no violent spatial fluctuation. He just silently dissipated into the air, leaving behind only a faint, lingering scent of dry herbs and those ambiguous words echoing in Roland’s ears.
The street was completely empty again, as if the gaunt figure and the strange standoff had never happened.
After scanning his surroundings and confirming that Erwin’s presence had completely vanished, Roland straightened up and let out a long breath.
He hadn’t felt overly tense, however.
With his current strength, from the distance between them during the confrontation, a single Charge would have been enough to close the gap in an instant.
Even if his first strike failed, the clash between him and that mysterious Wizard could never have been decided in a single moment.
Once locked in a drawn-out battle, his identity would have more easily earned the trust of the official authorities of the River Domain compared to a Wizard of unknown origins.
The only lingering concern...
...was the risk of exposing his deliberately hidden strength.
Shaking his head lightly, Roland released his tight grip on his sword hilt and turned to continue home, finally arriving back at his familiar courtyard at sunset.
After he informed his partners about the arrangements to set off for the Golden Valley Kingdom in seven days for a study trip, Teresa, who had long ago decided to leave with Roland, simply gave a calm nod.
As for Galvis...
"Stop that damn music!"
Roland let out a helpless rebuke. Only when the magnificent, rousing music—which sounded like a hero about to march off to battle—came to an abrupt halt did he begin to share his earlier theories in detail with the scholar, Bronson, who was at his side.
Just as he was instructing the scholar to leave the Royal Capital for a while to lie low, a mournful sigh was heard.
"Roland, if you all leave... then what about me?"
"Don’t worry, Avril..."
Roland looked at the Elf Maiden, who was complaining with a furrowed brow as she lay draped over the table, and comforted her.
"If everything goes smoothly, we’ll be back soon. At most... it won’t be more than three months."
"But that’s three months!"
Avril shot up from the table, holding up three slender fingers, her tone exaggerated.
"For a whole three months! I won’t get to eat any of your delicious and free meals..."
Watching her antics, the corners of Roland’s mouth tilted up, and he slowly stood.
"Well then, I’ll let you eat your fill today."
He had barely finished speaking when he turned and walked into the kitchen.
Not long after, a tantalizing aroma, a rich mixture of oil, spices, and ingredients, began to waft through the courtyard.
In just a few moments, Roland had laid a lavish feast upon the table.
The very instant he ladled the final dish onto a plate, a line of crisp, golden text abruptly appeared before his eyes.
[Analysis complete. You are qualified for the Basic Profession: Chef.]
[Requirements: Power 1, Agility 1, any Level 3 Culinary Skill-related ability.]
[Accept Profession?]
His gaze swept over the text, and Roland recited silently in his mind.
’Accept Profession: Chef.’
