Translator: CinderTL
Unlike the Golden Valley Kingdom, which established its capital at the heart of its territory, the River Domain Nations built their capitals along the coast, creating unique seaside metropolises.
As the Black Shell Trading Company's ship slowly entered the port, the towering lighthouse and bustling docks signaled that they had reached the River Domain Capital.
In stark contrast to the rugged, mountainous terrain and dense forests of Blackwater Territory, the River Domain Nations presented a completely different landscape.
Here, the land was flat and expansive, crisscrossed by rivers that shimmered like silver ribbons, weaving the entire region into a vibrant water city.
Roland stood on the deck, the salty sea breeze whipping through his robes.
In the distance, the River Domain Capital's white buildings stretched along the coastline, gleaming like pearls under the sunlight.
The towering lighthouse and domed palaces stood in distant conversation, while the dock area sprawled like a spiderweb, teeming with countless ships whose masts formed a dense forest.
Canals snaked through the city, bridges arching like ribbons across the waterways. The shouts of merchants, the calls of sailors, and the cries of seabirds mingled in the damp wind.
"It's a bit like—"
Roland's murmured observation was cut short by the sound of light footsteps approaching on the deck.
Immediately, a frivolous voice rang in his ear.
"Like a city floating on water, isn't it?"
Galvis had materialized beside him, gazing into the distance.
Before Roland could respond, he dramatically spread his arms wide and exclaimed in an operatic tone, "Ah! Look at these crisscrossing waterways, this bustling port—truly a pearl dropped by the gods into the mortal realm!"
His slender fingers casually plucked at the strings of his lute, as if he were performing at a concert in a noble's salon rather than standing on the deck of a merchant ship.
In the past, Roland would have frowned in embarrassment at Galvis's flamboyant theatrics. But with time, one's capacity for adaptation is astonishing. Now, at least, he could maintain a straight face and continue admiring the seascape during the Poet's sudden "artistic moments."
The damp sea breeze brushed against his face as Roland gazed toward the port and asked, "Mr. Galvis, aren't you planning to disembark yet?"
"Isn't that what I'm waiting for?"
Over the course of their time at sea, Galvis's demeanor had grown increasingly casual.
Not only had Galvis dropped the honorifics, but he now stood on tiptoe and draped an arm around Roland's shoulder.
"Hey, hey, you're not trying to weasel out of your debt, are you? You still owe me an adventure story!"
With a flourish, the poet conjured paper and ink from his waist pouch, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
"Look at this breathtaking view where the sea meets the sky! Why not tell me about your experiences after you went to Pine Wood Town to hone your combat skills?"
Roland rubbed his temples wearily.
During the voyage, besides gathering information about the giant dragon, he had also learned some secrets of the Elven race from Galvis.
According to the unreliable poet, the Elven race was likely the first to sense the resurgence of magic, and some of their people had already begun casting low-level spells.
This made Roland marvel once again at the Elven race's innate magical talent.
And precisely because of this, he had been forced to accrue even more debts for adventure stories.
As the two were talking, a voice suddenly called out from behind them.
Turning around, they saw Jashu, a member of the Shadow Veil, standing silently beside the mid-deck door, bowing slightly in greeting.
Moments later, a tall, graceful figure emerged, surrounded by a retinue of attendants.
It was a golden-haired elf.
Her pointed ears, delicate features, and the natural grace and aloofness in her every movement all radiated an innate nobility.
Yet, to Roland's surprise, this High Elf of the most ancient lineage was dressed with remarkable simplicity.
She wore only a meticulously tailored, plain-colored robe, devoid of any other adornments.
The sole striking feature was a seemingly casually woven crown of tree branches.
Roland's gaze involuntarily followed the crown, his pupils contracting slightly.
Even from a distance, he could clearly sense the astonishing vitality surging within that seemingly ordinary wooden circlet.
The road to the port was quickly cleared by the guards.
Only after the High Elf's figure had completely vanished from sight did the tense atmosphere gradually ease.
"Roland!"
Bronson, pushing a cart laden with books, approached breathlessly.
"My luggage is all packed. Let's disembark now."
"Very well, Mr. Bronson."
Roland smiled warmly at the erudite old scholar, noticing his flushed face from the exertion. He couldn't help but ask,
"Why don't you ask a waiter for help?"
"There's water everywhere."
Bronson kept his eyes fixed on the slippery wooden planks beneath his feet, carefully pushing the cart forward.
"I don't trust them with this. I'd rather handle it myself."
Roland glanced back at the waiter leading Black Wind, then shrugged helplessly.
The group slowly advanced along the makeshift wooden walkway.
When their feet finally touched solid ground, the long-missed sense of stability made Roland unconsciously exhale in relief.
Just then...
"Roland! Over here! Over here!"
A clear, cheerful voice rang out.
Looking up, Roland saw a brown-haired girl standing nearby, waving her arms vigorously. Her brown hair shimmered with tiny glints of sunlight.
"Roland! It's been so long!"
Avril ran joyfully toward Roland, her brown hair arcing brightly in the wind.
But just as she was about to reach him, her gaze suddenly caught sight of a familiar figure behind Roland.
Her words froze mid-sentence.
The bright smile on her face stiffened.
Galvis, who had been dramatically praising the city's scenery in operatic tones, abruptly stopped strumming his lute.
In the instant their eyes met, the air seemed to solidify.
Galvis studied the vibrant, brown-haired girl before him, his expression gradually shifting into something more nuanced.
The air's stillness lasted only a fleeting moment.
Before Roland could react, Avril had already seized his wrist and was pulling him forward.
"Mr. Colin specifically asked me to come and fetch you! Let's go see the residence he's prepared for you first—I guarantee you'll love it!"
"That's not urgent," Roland said, gently freeing his wrist from the girl's slender hand. "I'd rather know when I can report to the Knight Academy."
"Ah! The Knight Academy!" Galvis suddenly strummed his lute, interjecting with an operatic flourish. "The perfect starting point for a hero's journey! Such a poetic choice!"
Avril's brow furrowed almost imperceptibly, a flicker of annoyance flashing in her eyes before she quickly regained her bright smile.
"Mr. Colin has already arranged everything! If you're eager, you can report to the academy today." She leaned closer, lowering her voice. "All the formalities are taken care of—even your mentor..."
Under Avril's guidance, the group soon arrived at their residence.
Colin, as befitting the most renowned merchant in the River Domain Nations, had spared no expense. The mansion prepared for Roland was not only spacious and fully equipped but also boasted an excellent location.
Bronson immediately retreated to the study to continue his scholarly pursuits, while Galvis unceremoniously claimed the guest room with the best natural light.
After settling in briefly, Roland, accompanied by Avril, headed to the Knight Academy.
The River Domain Capital's transportation methods were unique.
Due to its dense network of waterways, the most convenient mode of transport wasn't horses, but fleets of exquisitely crafted flat-bottomed boats.
Gliding through the labyrinthine canals in a light skiff, they soon caught sight of the Knight Academy's imposing gates.
The towering gray-white stone archway was adorned with a relief carving of a knight wielding a sword.
Through the wrought-iron gates, they could see a vast training ground dotted with wooden practice dummies. In the distance, a cluster of Gothic-spired buildings gleamed with a cold, metallic luster under the sunlight.
Most striking was the flag atop the main tower, embroidered with crests of crashing waves and crossed swords, snapping fiercely in the sea wind.
"This is... the Knight Academy?" Roland murmured in awe as he and Avril stepped through the gates.
They had barely taken a few steps when a thunderous roar erupted from the training grounds.
"Unqualified!"
"You're all worthless! You dare attempt the assessment with such pathetic skills? Go home and suck your mothers' teats!"
The gruff voice shook the treetops, startling several resting seabirds into flight.
(End of the Chapter)
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