A yawn escaped her lips as she glanced at the sunlight filtering into her room. Claire blinked away the drowsiness lingering from sleep. She rubbed her eyes and sat upright on her bed.

Her eyes gazed around her room and a small smile too her lips. The space was a significant upgrade from what she had before, all thanks to Lord Arzan’s kindness.

Without another thought, she stood and walked toward the life-sized mirror.

Her gaze swept from her long brown hair to the hem of her dress, taking in her reflection.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had looked this healthy. Her once-sunken eyes now appeared full of life. The hollowness in her cheeks had vanished, replaced by a healthy glow. Even her bony hands had regained their fullness. Overall—she felt healthier and happier.

It had been years since she began working at the estate. In those first few years, each morning she had faced the mirror only to watch hope drain from her eyes day by day. They had lacked anything resembling joy, ambition, or even the faintest respect or love for her work or the city.

But she wasn’t one to run from responsibility. So, she did what she had to.

Now, it was all different.

So much of it stemmed from what had happened since Lord Arzan’s rise—not just as a leader, but as a hope for the city. He had taken charge with a firmness that inspired everyone around him, including Claire.

Her mother’s words drifted into her thoughts: After every adversity, opportunities bloom. Claire hadn’t truly understood those words until now. Because the same had happened to the city.

Veralt had been on the brink of ruin, the people gripped by fear as the beast wave loomed over them like a death sentence. But against all odds, they had survived. And survival had given way to something greater. The city wasn’t just recovering—it was thriving, growing at a pace no one could have imagined.

She had seen it happen with her own eyes. As Lord Arzan’s trusted maid, she’d been privy to meetings that shaped the city’s future, her presence there a silent witness to her growing role in this new era. The discussions were no longer about merely holding on but about reaching for more—trade, security, and alliances. Veralt was in the right hands, and she felt pride swell in her chest at being even a small part of its transformation.

A soft breeze stirred the air from the window, brushing against her face and pulling her out of her thoughts. She turned toward the open window, her eyes sweeping over the castle grounds below.

The guards were already hard at work, their training echoing across the courtyard in rhythmic clinks of metal against metal. Their discipline mirrored the spirit of the city itself—a unity born from struggle, now focused on a shared purpose. They were practising as if another battle was just on the horizon—the determination; it was contagious.

Another gust of wind rolled in, stronger this time, carrying with it faint whispers. Claire froze, her senses sharpening.

The sound was elusive, intangible, like a half-remembered melody. Yet, it felt real, brushing against her awareness in a way that sent a shiver down her spine. Her gaze instinctively lifted to the distant horizon, where the line of the Vasper Forest met the sky. The pull was subtle but unmistakable, a silent call drawing her attention back to the woods and the new friend she had made there.

The yearning to return swelled within her, but she quickly shook it off. Not now. Not yet. She had duties to fulfil, responsibilities she wouldn’t abandon. Lord Arzan had entrusted her with more than just her usual tasks, and she wasn’t about to disappoint him. With a sharp breath, she stepped away from the window, her priorities firm as she moved to prepare for the day.

She freshened up briefly and made her way outside the room.

Today, Claire wasn’t simply Lord Arzan’s maid. She had already passed those duties to one of the other servants, freeing herself for something more pressing.

As she strode through the castle halls, she was greeted by everyone she passed. There was a time, when she had moved through these spaces unnoticed, just another face among the staff. But now, her position as the lord’s personal maid carried weight. People nodded, smiled, and offered greetings, their tones often laced with respect—or, perhaps, calculation.

She wondered briefly if their kindness was genuine or merely an acknowledgement of her growing influence. But again, it didn’t matter. Whether driven by sincerity or self-interest, they were all working toward the same goal—the prosperity of Veralt. That was enough for her.

With her head held high, Claire stepped into the courtyard, the sun breaking through the morning clouds. Today was another step forward—not just for the city, but for her as well.

Before she realized it, Claire found herself on the main street. Her gaze flitted across the scene in front of her: carriages trundling in through the gates, lines of people spilling into the city, their chatter blending into a dull roar. Another line stretched outward, carrying carriages away toward neighbouring towns. The gates, once quiet, now felt like the lifeline of Veralt, pulling in streams of migrants and resources alike.

The news had spread like wildfire—Veralt, a rising star among cities, promising prosperity and opportunity. The surge of newcomers was inevitable. Some came seeking the free food and steady jobs the city now offered. Others arrived with dreams of joining the city guard, drawn by the stories that rumoured of good pay and a lord whose fairness had earned him loyalty, not fear.

Claire moved through the throng and her eyes scanned the flurry of activity. Buildings in various stages of construction loomed ahead, the skeletons of new workshops, homes, and marketplaces rising toward the sky. Workers bustled about, the sharp clink of tools mingling with the progress. Roads were being widened, drainage systems improved—everywhere she looked, Veralt was transforming. She could only hope it would continue, that this pace of growth wouldn’t falter under the weight of whatever was about to come.

Her brow furrowed as she recalled Lord Arzan’s words.

“Claire, Veralt is thriving now, but don’t be deceived by its momentum. Trouble always follows growth. The higher we rise, the more others will try to drag us down. Never forget that.”

Those words had become a mantra. Every day, she carried them with her, using them as a reminder to push harder, to stay vigilant, to never grow complacent. She had forced herself to take less rest than she needed, to throw herself fully into her duties. But even now, as she moved, she wondered if it was enough. Was she contributing enough to Veralt’s future? Was this her limit? But for now, this was all she could do.

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Her steps slowed as her destination came into view: a modest two-story building, simple yet sturdy, its wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze. It was the school, the newest addition to the area.

Claire entered. She felt that every part of her buzzed with anticipation. The first door to her left led to a small room, its walls newly painted and the faint smell of wood polish lingering.

Her eyes swept across the gathered students. At the front, a group of children sat on neat benches, some dressed in fine outfits—wealthy and more privileged. Others wore patched tunics and scuffed shoes, their origins in the slums all too apparent.

At the very back of the room sat a handful of adults, their postures awkward, their gazes darting around as if unsure of their place. Their rough hands and weathered faces stood out, a stark contrast to the youthful energy around them. Yet, despite their discomfort, they stayed. They were the ones who wanted to learn, to better themselves in a city that now offered a chance for something more.

And it started here—in language class.

She took a closer look at the faces on the back, her gaze lingering on a familiar face among the adults at the back. It was Cecilia, Gareth’s wife.

She recognized her instantly by the stern set of her jaw and the fierce determination that burned in her eyes. Claire couldn’t help but smile.

She and Cecilia had met a few times since she had been a frequent member of the community kitchens that the maids were largely responsible for. Even after Gareth’s standing had gotten better, she had kept coming, not to eat food, but to help out.

Seeing her and other adults in the room made her feel like the education program was working well.

The classes were free, and the initiative had drawn a wide variety of people. Parents crowded the school with their children, eager for them to grasp the basics of language. It was all tied to the apprentice program Lord Arzan had recently introduced—a gateway to better jobs and futures for the people of Veralt. The promise of opportunity had worked like a miracle, drawing in the hopeful and the determined alike.

Claire stepped up to the podium, taking it all in. A simple blackboard stood behind her, its surface clean and ready. She cleared her throat, the soft cough enough to quiet the murmur of voices in the room.

“Good morning, everyone,” she began, her voice steady. “Today, we’ll start with the basics of the common tongue. Most of you already know how to speak it, but we’re going to focus on reading and writing first. Once we’re comfortable with that, we’ll move on to basic calculations.”

The room fell silent as her words sank in. Eyes, both young and old, were fixed on her, waiting, listening. It was a humbling experience, to stand before them and know she was a part of their journey toward something better.

Yet, as she continued explaining the lesson, a shadow of doubt crept into her mind. Is this all I can do? The question again gnawed at her.

It wasn’t that she felt she was slacking—she worked tirelessly, doing everything she could for Veralt and for Lord Arzan. But deep down, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was capable of more, that her potential extended beyond this.

As the thought lingered, the winds outside stirred again. The faint rustle swept through the room, brushing against her cheek like a whisper of something just out of reach.

Once again, the small gesture sent chills down her spine, creating goosebumps on her skin.

***

It took over half a day for the classes to wrap up, leaving Claire with just enough time to check in on the tasks assigned to the other newly recruited teachers. She walked through each room, observing their progress, offering occasional suggestions, and ensuring that everything adhered to the goals of Veralt’s education program. As the one directly responsible for the initiative, Claire knew there was no room for error. The city’s future rested, in part, on these lessons and the opportunities they promised.

By the time she returned to the castle, the sun had already begun its descent. The evening drills for the guards were in full swing, the clash of weapons and shouted commands filling the air. The maids bustled to finish their tasks, tying up the day’s loose ends before retreating for the night.

Despite the ache in her feet and the increasing hunger in her stomach, Claire didn’t head to the kitchen or her quarters for rest. Instead, she made her way to Lord Arzan’s office. She had a report to deliver—the day’s progress, the growing number of enrolled students, and her observations of the program’s development.

Reaching the heavy wooden door, she knocked firmly. A calm voice from within called her, and she entered swiftly, closing the door behind her. What greeted her left her momentarily stunned.

Lord Arzan stood in the centre of the room, juggling seven orbs of glowing lights effortlessly. The faint hum of magic filled the air, the orbs spinning in perfect harmony around his hands. His eyes were closed, his expression serene, as if this act of magical dexterity was nothing more than a casual pastime.

Lord Arzan always fascinated her, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sight.

For a moment, it felt like she was watching a performer in a grand circus rather than the lord she served.

How long must he have practised to master it like this… to the point where he looks like he’s just having fun?

He finally opened his eyes, the light balls dissolving into harmless motes of mana as he turned toward her with a warm smile. “Ah, Claire, you’re here. I was just about to call you in.”

Claire blinked, snapping out of it. “For what, my lord?” she asked, stepping closer. But her curiosity got the better of her, and she gestured toward where the orbs had been just moments ago. “If I may ask… what were you doing?”

“I was just trying out some mana-sensitive exercises,” Lord Arzan explained casually, dismissing the fading motes of light with a wave of his hand. “I’m considering passing them on to the Enforcers and Rhea. They could help improve their perception of mana.”

Claire blinked, nodding slowly as she processed his words. Before she could comment, Arzan continued, his tone shifting slightly. “Either way, the reason I wanted to call you in was to let you know we’ll be going on a small adventure. I need you to pack both mine and your belongings.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “An adventure, my lord? To where?”

Lord Arzan tilted his head, the way he did whenever he had something exciting to say. “We’re going to the elven territory, Sylvastra. But there will be a few detours along the way. If all goes as planned, it should take less time than my journey to the capital. This time, though, I want you to accompany me.”

Claire straightened immediately, the surprise fading into resolve. “Obviously, Lord Arzan. But…” She hesitated, her mind recalling a story she had read in the library. “The elves—aren’t they reclusive? I’ve heard they don’t allow outsiders into their lands.”

“True,” Arzan admitted, sitting on the bed. “But this time, they’re the ones calling me in. Raven will show us the way. The elves may be recluse, but they’re also spirit trainers, and I believe I can establish a bond with them.”

“Spirit trainers?” Claire asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Yes,” Arzan said with a nod. “Like Raven. She’s not a particularly strong one, but she can imbue her arrows with her spirit’s power. That’s the essence of a spirit trainer. The elves don’t have the same mana organs humans do—only a Mana heart—but they make up for it with an affinity for spirits, bonding with them to perform magic. Legends say the Elder Tree granted them this power. It’s fascinating.”

Claire’s mind raced with questions, but one stood out above the rest. “So… Can humans become spirit trainers too?”

Arzan paused, considering her question. “Yes, it’s possible. I’ve heard of a few humans bonding with spirits. Even some Mages can do it, but it’s extremely rare—about one in ten million. Spirits have distinctive personalities and the affinity required to bond with them is beyond what most humans possess. Still, it’s not impossible,” he said, brushing his robes. “Either way, make sure everything is packed by tomorrow. We’ll be leaving shortly.”

“Understood,” Claire replied, bowing her head. But as she left the room, her thoughts were no longer on the tasks she had intended to report.

Instead of heading to the kitchen or her quarters, her feet carried her to the castle’s library.

“Spirit trainers…” she murmured to herself. The concept fascinated her, and she couldn’t resist the urge to learn more.

***

A/N – You can read 30 chapters (15 Magus Reborn and 15 Dao of money) on my patreon.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep