[Lord of Abundance] Chapter 21: Spring in the Abundance Territory

 Chapter 21: Spring in the Abundance Territory

Melvord and Latifa both felt their hearts jolt at those words. Melvord, in particular, silently thanked his luck that he had listened to Latifa and hadn’t followed those two fools who left. The archmage’s expression didn’t look like he was joking.

As for the promise of “no retaliation”… that was something to take with a grain of salt.

Why would someone of his standing dirty his own hands? A glance, a hint—that was enough. There would always be others willing to remove such minor nuisances. Those who became an eyesore would naturally meet misfortune.

Having delivered his warning, Kun’s gaze softened, his tone sincere.

“What I can promise is this—I will do everything in my power to build this territory. I will never treat anyone here as a commodity to be priced and traded.

“So I ask for a bit of patience. Give me time. Watch what I do. I will turn this place into something better—a territory that truly deserves the name ‘Abundance.’

“And in that process, I will need your help.”

He paused, then added:

“As compensation, as among the first builders of this territory, you will always have priority residency in the Emerald Heart.

“I will reserve a place for both of you in the new housing. As long as the Abundance Territory exists, that place will belong to you.”

Melvord and Latifa didn’t grasp how sincere—and valuable—this promise was. They assumed it was merely a hollow incentive meant to keep them from leaving.

In truth, only three officials in the entire territory had received the same guarantee.

No matter how the Emerald Heart expanded in the future, it would remain the core of the core—and space there was limited.

Its value wasn’t apparent now. But once the population grew and space became scarce, they would understand just how precious this promise truly was.

—

“In addition,” Kun continued, “the territory operates on a labor-based system—more work, more reward; no work, no reward.

“For details, you may consult the tax officer, Vittorio. I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to explain everything.”

Melvord, noticing Kun still hadn’t addressed the matter he cared about most, grew anxious. He stood up, about to speak—

“Master Melvord,” Kun said calmly, “your state of mind seems… off.”

Their eyes met.

Kun’s sharp gaze seemed to pierce through layers of pretense, staring straight into his soul.

An ice mage, yet so restless, so lacking in patience—this was not a good sign.

It meant the problem ran deeper than mere talent. He had already strayed from the path of magic.

Melvord stiffened. His voice caught in his throat.

For a brief instant, their spiritual forces brushed against each other.

It felt like a dragon sweeping through his mind—his entire mental sea roiled violently.

He couldn’t help but laugh bitterly inside.

Though he hadn’t broken through to the second tier, he had spent decades refining his mind, believing his mental resilience rivaled that of mid-tier mages.

And yet the gap… was this vast?

This archmage was indeed worthy of the title—but he was only sixteen years old. Younger than Melvord’s own grandson.

—

Kun gestured for him to sit, withdrawing his gaze. With a relaxed motion, he traced circles along the rim of his teacup.

“What you seek,” he said slowly, “I can indeed grant. Breaking through that bottleneck for you would be easy.

“But to be honest, that would only harm you.

“A mage who strays from the path… will not end well. The higher you climb, the harder you will fall.”

He looked at both of them.

“Let me ask you a simple question.

“What is the Dao of magic? What is magic, in your eyes?”

“Magic… magic is… it is…” Melvord faltered.

Latifa spoke instead, her voice steady.

“Magic is sunlight. Magic is warmth. Magic is aether. Magic is the source of all things.

“It is the vital force all life depends on, the essence of the world itself. The Dao of magic is the pursuit of that essence.”

Kun chuckled.

“A textbook answer, Master Latifa. You’ve read quite a few ancient tomes, I see.

“If I recall correctly, that passage comes from Volume Twenty, Chapter One of the Moon Elf Compendium, doesn’t it?”

Latifa smiled faintly. “You flatter me.”

Kun leaned forward slightly.

“But have you ever considered this—

“What if there exists a place where magic is scarce… or nonexistent?

“How would people there perceive magic?

“As something imaginary? Or as a form of energy?

“So tell me—what exactly is magic?”

Latifa’s pupils shrank.

Melvord blurted out, “Impossible! Magic is life itself. Without it, how could people survive?”

Kun smiled faintly.

A man born blind could never truly comprehend what sight was like. Everything simply felt… natural.

If he hadn’t visited Blue Star—the land devoid of magic—he might never have questioned it either.

—

He said nothing more.

Instead, he lightly tapped the teacup beside him.

The lukewarm tea inside suddenly began to boil violently.

Steam rose into the air, gathering into a small white cloud. The cloud thickened into dark vapor, then fell as droplets of rain.

The water pooled on the table, then gathered together as if alive. Frost spread across it, freezing into ice—only to sublimate into vapor again, returning to cloud form.

Water, cloud, ice—cycling endlessly within a span of mere feet, displayed in the most direct way possible.

—

“This… is magic?” Latifa whispered, shaken.

No incantation. No elemental restriction. Effortless. Natural.

For Melvord, it was the second time he had witnessed something like this.

It felt as if he stood before the gates of truth.

“So this is magic… this is true magic… I understand! Hahaha—I understand!”

His eyes gleamed with fanatic fervor as he waved his arms, laughing like a madman. His white beard trembled comically.

Kun looked at him oddly.

He himself only dared claim he understood half of it—and this man already “understood everything”?

Understood what, exactly?

—

In the end, Kun handed them a thick notebook—his personal magic journal.

It contained his thoughts on magical principles, along with experimental notes and verifications.

“You may take this back and read it. If you have questions, feel free to discuss them with me anytime.”

—

Watching the two leave in excitement, Kun nodded in satisfaction.

Mission accomplished.

Hooked, line and sinker.

No need to worry about anyone wanting to leave anytime soon. Stabilizing morale wasn’t that hard after all—hit them with a stick first, then throw in a few theories and principles.

These inexperienced little mages wouldn’t stand a chance.

Now they’d stay here willingly, devoting themselves to the territory.

Heh.

—

Pouring himself another cup of tea, Kun stared at his reflection in the clear amber liquid.

In the quiet study, his voice echoed softly as he spoke to himself.

“What is magic?”

“Magic… is a medium.”

Flame, light, heat, wind, lightning—yes, these could all be magic.

The mage world believed magic to be the foundation of existence, even the embodiment of laws and truth.

The Dao of magic was the process of using knowledge to leverage those laws.

Kun didn’t disagree.

But to him, those explanations were too vague.

On Blue Star, one could say the same of science—science is truth, science is law, science is the foundation of the world.

Is that wrong?

No.

But are magic and science the same?

If they were, Blue Star and the Eternal Radiance Continent wouldn’t be so vastly different.

—

Kun’s realization came only after comparing the two worlds.

Magic, at its core, was a medium.

If you wanted ice—

On this continent, an ice mage could condense moisture from the air.

On Blue Star, you put water in a refrigerator.

Different methods. Same result.

To Kun, that was magic.

The compressor was equivalent to a mage’s mental power.

The refrigerant was the medium.

Ice = magic.
Compressor = mental force.
Refrigerant = medium.

Mages focused only on strengthening their “compressors”—their minds—without understanding what truly completed the process.

Kun himself had only gone halfway.

He had identified the existence of the “medium,” but not its true nature.

—

Was understanding this useful?

It seemed trivial—like asking whether 1 + 1 equals 2.3, 2.2, or 2.1.

The difference was tiny.

But every calculation built on a flawed premise would deviate further and further from the truth.

To Kun, a true mage wasn’t someone who could destroy a kingdom with a forbidden spell—

But someone who could drop a pebble from a mountaintop and still bring about that kingdom’s destruction.

Same result.

Completely different meaning.

—

This kind of foundational exploration was absent in the Eternal Radiance Continent.

Most mages pursued power or ancient spells, neglecting deeper understanding.

As a result, magical development had stagnated.

Despite a thousand years passing, humanity remained far behind the ancient era of elven dominance.

—

Kun preferred the other world.

Not just for its prosperity or advanced civilization—

But for its people.

Curious. Explorative. Kind.

Imperfect, yes—but vibrant.

Here, all he saw was greed among nobles, numb despair among the commoners, and a rigid class system that stifled creativity.

Changing such a world?

Too difficult.

Kun had no desire to become a savior.

He’d rather live comfortably—manage his territory, study magic, farm a little, and explore the power of the Abundance Mark.

That was enough.

—

Taking a sip of tea, Kun gazed out the window.

“Spring is coming…”

—

Winter in the north came fast, but left slowly.

While the south was already warm and lively, the northern frontier—especially the Abundance Territory—remained bitterly cold.

The ground was still frozen solid.

But thanks to the nearby Storm Sea, warm winds had begun to melt the snow. A few stubborn weeds pushed through the earth, hinting at life’s return.

—

“Hah!”

A slender black-haired youth gripped a greatsword nearly his height. Drawing power from his waist, he swung hard at a frost fir tree.

His bangs lifted in the wind, revealing a sweat-covered forehead.

The blade struck the trunk with a crackling burst like firecrackers.

Dozens of cuts appeared—though he had swung only once. The rest were wind marks from his battle qi.

Dawn Simmons’ signature technique—

“Chaotic Wind Break!”

—

“Training, are we?”

Kun approached, Old Tate behind him, a newborn kitten cradled in his arms.

“It’s the lord!”

“The lord has come!”

Workers and guards stopped to bow.

Only Li Tianyun remained unmoved, examining the marks on the tree, calculating his next strike.

No one found it strange.

This foreign-looking youth—who barely spoke the kingdom’s language—was rumored to be extraordinary.

A friend of the lord.

One of Dawn’s disciples.

And the newly appointed architectural planner of the Abundance Territory.

A mysterious man from beyond the Storm Sea.

…