"See you tonight."
After packing his things, Laine headed towards another part of the town. The Imperial Merchant Oliver's caravan was located there; he had rented an entire inn, even including a nearby farmhouse. Laine stayed there temporarily as he didn't plan to linger in the town for long.
The caravan was bustling with people, constantly moving as workers and guards transported goods, mainly ores and furs, with some other commodities mixed in.
Loading and unloading has always been a troublesome task.
Laine walked into the inn's lobby and noticed Oliver talking to another man dressed in luxurious attire.
The Half-Elf Estelle stood behind that man, so if Laine wasn't mistaken, this man must be Estelle's employer—the merchant Mats he mentioned.
Come to think of it, Mats isn't a very flattering name; it literally means "butt cushion."
"Mr. Laine! You've returned? I've heard that earlier a group of Water Ghosts attacked the docks, and it was Mr. Laine's great show of divine power that killed the Water Ghost leader, driving off the rest. Mr. Laine, you are truly remarkable." Oliver stood up upon seeing Laine, visibly unnerved, though Laine could tell he was faking it.
How could a large town be breached by a group of Water Ghosts?
"Your combat skill doesn't seem like it's learned here in Nord; it looks more like... Griffin footwork?" Estelle suddenly remarked, a hint of curiosity on the Half-Elf's face.
"Have you been to the Empire?" Laine raised his head, somewhat displeased with this Half-Elf for reasons he couldn't quite pinpoint.
Perhaps it was because this handsome, exuding grace and wisdom Half-Elf was likely to win the favor of others more easily. Men envy each other, and some hostility between them was unavoidable.
"Ha~ I worked for eight years for the Toscan Prince-Elector Corleone in the Empire, and he never parted with a knightly title. Do you think I'd know the Empire well?" Estelle laughed mockingly, finding a place to sit: "So, if I'm not mistaken, Mr. Laine's combat skill must be taught by that elder, right?"
"What does my tutor have to do with you? Given what you said, I think I understand why Mr. Estelle, after eight years of working for Corleone, didn't even snag a stable position." Laine sized up the handsome Half-Elf Ranger and suddenly mocked: "Long ears aren't exactly a badge of honor, Half-Elf."
"You!" The Half-Elf stood up directly but immediately realized something, his face turning pale: "Forget it, in the name of Asuyan, I won't argue with you, and please don't be troublesome, Nord Knight."
Asuyan is the Main God of the Elf Pantheon, the Phoenix God.
This surprised Oliver and Mats; the proud Half-Elf actually didn't mind Laine's remarks? It's well-known that Elves dislike being referred to by their long ears.
Even more surprising was Laine's expression; this Nord Kingdom Knight had a rather peculiar look, mixing anger, surprise, and even a bit of... joy and relief?
"I'll head back to my room now! Don't bother me, whatever it is, wait until I come out!" Laine, after a pause, immediately informed the two merchants present, and both Oliver and Mats instinctively nodded.
Laine dashed straight to his room without looking back, tightly closing the door behind him, then shutting all windows and doors.
The man stood alone in his room, seemingly awaiting something.
Gradually, a gentle golden energy appeared in the cold and quiet room, a force resonating with unparalleled majesty and sanctity fleetingly surged within.
Laine was slowly encircled by this mysterious energy.
Within his consciousness, endless golden brilliance flowed around Laine, flickering like flowing water, continually rotating, colliding, and merging, as if his awareness shone among the stars yet trembled under an overwhelming pressure akin to Mount Tai.
Until a golden figure emerged from the radiance, the oppressive force slightly receded.
"I speak to you from afar, my son!"
"I really don't want to be your son! On Earth, I have a father; here, I have a foster father and a Godfather, and now you tell me I'm your son too? How many fathers do you want me to have?!" Laine spoke to the golden figure jokingly, showing some discontent but mostly relief.
"You are my son, ever since you accepted my gene, Laine, you are my son, the youngest of them all, the most youthful one." The golden figure remained expressionless, continuing in a gentle tone.
"...Alright, I finally beat Lu from the Celestial Dynasty in something." Laine had no choice; he could feel the intense blood resonance within him, his blood was cheering, his bones excitedly crackled, his muscles sang a resonant melody, and the feeling of connecting bloodstream resonated within Laine.
He is indeed his son.
Indeed.
He is truly his father.