[Lord of Abundance] Chapter 25: Fourth-Tier Magic Scroll

 Chapter 25: Fourth-Tier Magic Scroll

Inside the council chamber on the first floor of Blackstone Castle, a long rectangular table carved from a single slab of cold fir wood stood at the very center. Polished with amber resin, it exuded a faint, lingering fragrance. The tight, intricate growth rings of the fir were clearly visible beneath the glossy coating.

Cypress-scented candles burned slowly on the candelabras, dispelling the dampness in the air. The chamber itself was sparsely furnished, yet carried an air of understated solemnity.

Both sides of the long table were already filled with attendees. As the lord, Kun naturally occupied the seat at the head, his eyes closed as he rested. To his left sat Dawn, the chief of security, his posture upright and expression resolute. The empty chair beside him was clearly reserved for someone.

This was no longer the small private meeting of the four high-ranking officials—it was a full assembly for the entire Fengrao Territory. Many unfamiliar faces had appeared.

Among them were Latifa and Melvord, two novice mages representing the interests of the mage community; Nia, the territory’s foremost prodigy and already a ranked warrior; a middle-aged blacksmith of exceptional skill who had followed Kun from the royal capital—a short man with a thick beard and hints of highland dwarf ancestry; a physician well-versed in herbalism; and locals like Joel and Redo, who had been chosen as representatives for their outstanding performance.

These individuals were the elite of the Fengrao Territory—the pillars of its present and future—and thus were qualified to attend or observe the meeting.

Young Joel, attending such a solemn occasion for the first time, felt completely out of place. The polished floor, smooth enough to reflect light, stood in stark contrast to the mud-caked straw sandals on his feet. Thinking of the trail of muddy footprints he had left behind upon entering the castle, he felt as though he had desecrated a sacred place, silently praying for the lord’s forgiveness.

Redo, seated at the far end, had no such reservations. His gaze swept across every face in the room, lingering especially on the foreign youth seated at the lord’s right—the first position of honor. Even the lord’s steward sat behind that boy.

Nia’s presence was understandable. Her talent was so exceptional that even Dawn, a seasoned great warrior, had praised her endlessly in private. Among all ranked and trainee warriors in the guard and security corps, none could surpass her.

And yet, despite being Dawn’s disciple, even she sat behind—while that boy sat beside Dawn, equal in position. Why?

Sensing the heated gaze—part curiosity, part challenge, part desire to replace him—Li Tianyun, holding a young Stormwing Flying Tiger cub named Qiuqiu, followed the line of sight and met Redo’s eyes with a slight nod.

He felt no anger at the unspoken provocation. In fact, he didn’t take it to heart at all.

Fundamentally, they were completely different. There was no conflict of interest between them, nor would his presence obstruct anyone’s advancement within the territory. This much, both Dawn—who instructed him in battle aura—and Vittorio, the tax officer, had likely already realized.

After all, the lord’s attitude toward this sudden “friend from a distant shore,” who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere in Blackstone Castle, was peculiar. Not only was he treated as a top-tier honored guest—placed on equal footing with the lord himself—but he was also trusted absolutely. The same level of trust Kun placed in Old Tate—a trust akin to trusting oneself.

No questions. No inquiries. No probing. Avoid contact unless absolutely necessary. Treat him as though he didn’t exist.

This silent consensus among the territory’s leadership defined their attitude toward Li Tianyun. To pry into his secrets would be tantamount to prying into the secrets of Kun, a high-tier mage lord—a dangerous taboo.

Seeing that Vittorio, the last to arrive, had taken his seat, Old Tate gestured for the maid to close the doors. The important meeting concerning the future of the Fengrao Territory officially began.

As the heavy doors shut, the faint chatter in the hall faded into silence. Most attendees were participating in such a meeting for the first time. They exchanged uncertain glances, unsure of what to do. The lord remained with his eyes closed, seemingly with no intention of speaking.

Were they simply to sit here?

Old Tate glanced around and chuckled.

“Everyone, there’s no need to be nervous. The young master has gathered you here to address the backlog of administrative matters in the territory. If anyone has something to say—issues to discuss, proposals to make, or even complaints you’ve heard from others—feel free to bring them up. Let’s see if we can pool our wisdom to find solutions. After that, the young master will announce several important matters regarding the territory. That’s the general flow of today’s meeting. Anyone who wishes to speak may begin.”

The daily affairs of the territory were managed by its three officials. Kun merely listened to progress reports from people like Vittorio and did not interfere directly. While this approach reduced his workload, over time it risked detachment from reality and potential manipulation by subordinates.

Thus, in addition to the small meetings with a select few, Kun instituted this monthly assembly—to hear the genuine voices of representatives from all sectors of the territory.

Seek common ground while reserving differences. Prevent problems before they arise.

Though complaints from common folk might seem trivial, they revealed the most direct shortcomings of the Fengrao Territory—valuable insight for Kun as he cultivated his “nursery.”

However, in the eyes of some, this inaugural lord’s assembly might also be its last. If the lord truly abandoned his development plans, then such meetings would no longer be necessary.

Dawn, ever composed, spoke first.

“To prevent magical beasts from disrupting the farmers’ spring planting, I led the security team to dig traps along the border between the Fengrao Territory and the Everdark Forest. However, these traps were likely destroyed by the recent heavy rains. With the river valley flooded, we’ve been unable to assess the damage. For now, we’ve focused on reinforcing the farms’ defenses. Once the rain stops, we’ll repair the traps immediately.”

Seeing someone take the lead, the elderly mage Melvord stroked his white goatee.

“The mages would like a mage tower where they can conduct research in peace—preferably located some distance from the villages. Oof—why did you kick me?”

Latifa shot him a sharp glare. For someone his age, he had remarkably little sense.

Regardless of whether the lord abandoned the territory, he remained a mage. Any great mage would eventually require lower-tier mages as assistants, and a mage tower would be built sooner or later. But given the territory’s current hardships, bringing it up now would only breed resentment. No wonder he had remained a fringe figure in the Mage Association for decades.

Grace, the kindly-looking herbalist in white robes, spoke gravely.

“The batches of medicinal herbs the lord purchased from Lovos City—I’ve been drying them for preservation, but due to the continuous rain, many have become damp and moldy. Steward Tate has already sent people to help salvage what they can, but if the rain continues, we won’t be able to preserve them. They’ll eventually rot.”

Anton suddenly stood up from his seat—though even standing, he didn’t seem much taller. His expression was dark.

“The herbs are not the priority. I’ve heard that due to this natural disaster, the territory’s finances are running a deficit. It is said the lord intends to halt development plans. What exactly are your intentions, my lord? What are your plans moving forward? Many of us who followed you here from the capital are deeply concerned.”

And rightly so. The Fengrao Territory was little more than barren land. The locals struggled even to eat their fill. If Kun failed to uphold the promises he made in the capital, the kingdom’s laws would merely require compensation.

But for commoners who had uprooted their families to follow him here, the consequences were far more severe. Returning to the capital would be a major problem. Otherwise… they would have no choice but to remain and become farmers.

Joel, who had been quietly anxious, suddenly shot to his feet.

“My lord, are you leaving the Fengrao Territory? Things have only just begun to improve! Are we going back to the days when we couldn’t even eat our fill? That can’t happen! If the territory is short on funds, I don’t need wages—just two meals a day is enough. I’m sure everyone in the village would agree. Please!”

Li Tianyun blinked in surprise. With the workload of the logging team, and he was willing to forgo wages for just meals? How harsh had his life been before?

In truth, Li Tianyun didn’t fully grasp it. On Blue Star, people had only begun living better in the past century. Before that, the common populace lived much the same as on the Eternal Radiance Continent—eating coarse food was considered decent, and going hungry was commonplace.

Kun, seated at the head, opened his bloodshot eyes, fatigue evident.

For three straight days, he had worked without rest, copying the contents of that precious magic scroll. Only half an hour ago had he finally transcribed the complex, shifting magical symbols. That was why this meeting had been convened.

“Joel, I appreciate your goodwill, but keep your wages. Your lord isn’t so poor that he needs to covet a few copper coins from his people. And who said I’m abandoning the territory? Tate, did I ever say such a thing?”

“No, young master. I remember every word you’ve said. You’ve never said that.”

“Then who’s been spreading such irresponsible rumors?”

In an instant, all eyes turned toward Vittorio, whose expression grew awkward.

Abandoning development was no small matter. He had only tested the waters with subtle inquiries. Calling it a rumor felt a bit excessive. Given the territory’s precarious finances, the lord could no longer afford to act on impulse.

Clearing his throat, Vittorio adopted a solemn, almost martyr-like tone.

“As your personal financial advisor, I have the duty and obligation to recommend—”

“Enough. I recommend you stop recommending.”

Kun cut him off, pressing his temples. His head already throbbed from lack of sleep—he had no patience for financial lectures.

Recently, he had developed a strange ailment: the mere mention of accounts gave him a headache. Even Vittorio’s face reminded him of a debt collector.

“I understand your concerns. Isn’t it just rain? Then we’ll stop it. Why are you all acting like Zhu Bajie, wanting to split up and go your separate ways at the first sign of trouble? Come on—follow me.”

The room fell into stunned silence.

They didn’t know what “Zhu Bajie” was—only Li Tianyun caught the reference—but they clearly heard what mattered:

The lord said he would stop the rain.

A rainstorm that had lasted over half a month.

Impossible. Even third-tier water archmages couldn’t accomplish something so absurd.

Kun rose and strode out of the hall. Li Tianyun followed immediately, while the others trailed behind, half-believing, half-doubting.

Walking through the castle corridors, Li Tianyun asked curiously,

“How are you planning to do this?”

Stopping a torrential downpour—modern technology on Blue Star couldn’t achieve that. At best, it could influence rainfall slightly. Controlling weather like in myths or science fiction was beyond reach.

“I’m a mage,” Kun replied. “Of course I’ll use magic.”

“You can actually do that?”

Li Tianyun was speechless. Someone capable of that—could he even still be considered human?

Then again, this was the same person who casually traveled between worlds. Stopping a rainstorm suddenly didn’t seem so shocking.

Kun paused, his expression turning odd.

“Actually… I can’t. Not yet. I can force-cast some low-tier spells of other elements using sheer magical power, but Weather Control is a fourth-tier wind spell. Raw power alone isn’t enough.”

“Then what’s your plan?”

“Magic isn’t limited to mages. Magical beasts, artifacts… and scrolls can all cast spells.”

He casually opened his spatial storage and took out a scroll—the one he had tricked someone into trading for a fossilized dragon egg that would never hatch. Silver and green patterns intertwined across its surface, naturally drawing in surrounding wind elements as it hovered gently in midair.

Kun smiled.

“Want to give it a try? Opportunities like this don’t come often.”

Not every mage could create magic scrolls—it required a special talent.

Some high-ranking mages couldn’t even produce the lowest-tier scrolls. Moreover, scrolls required materials like the skin and blood of magical beasts of equal rank. Being single-use items, these factors made magic scrolls rare—especially those containing high-tier spells.

And the fourth-tier scroll in Kun’s hand…

It was a national treasure of the Dansu Kingdom.

Even if it was a somewhat overlooked one, it was still a treasure—locked away deep within the royal treasury, its existence unknown to ordinary people.

But no matter how tight the defenses, it was always hardest to guard against thieves from within.