Chapter 45

Clearly, Astor is not a normal person.

He has some traits similar to Arnold, such as enthusiasm and kindness, but once compared, it becomes immediately apparent that while Arnold may appear enthusiastic, he is not stupid, whereas Astor is truly... not much of his talent is allocated to intelligence.

Veris was genuinely surprised when he heard Astor cheerfully say that he was fourteen years old.

Fourteen years old, but looks like he's twenty-four.

In his shock, he blurted it out, leaving Astor stunned, then thunderstruck: "Me, am I really that old?"

Veris tried several times to call out to Astor about the boy, but couldn't quite manage to say it.

After escaping from the fourth city, the two inexplicably became companions. Although Astor was thinking that it would be better to go back to the village, he didn't want to go hungry. After hearing Veris say that he was going to the capital, he thought about it and said that he wanted to go too.

It was getting dark, but thankfully it wasn't snowing. The two of them hadn't gone far from the fourth city when they saw the shadow of a village nearby, where they could ask to stay for the night.

Veris was still quite interested in Aster; he sensed something special about the man.

This person will likely become a member of the hero's team in the future. He is naturally strong, kind and simple, and even a bit stubborn.

Astor said he couldn't stay in the village any longer, and a kind pastor told him that if he wanted to eat his fill, he could go to the city and find a job to support himself.

Given Astor's immense strength, finding a manual labor job shouldn't be a problem.

He then decided to go to the nearest town to the village. On the way, he met a caravan of merchants. One of the carts in the caravan had a broken frame, and Astor volunteered to pull it.

The businessman was skeptical, but looking at Astor's height, which was nearly two meters, he felt it was quite believable.

The plan to go to the small town also went awry, and the merchant took him to the fourth city instead.

They were all cities, but the fourth city was much larger than those smaller cities. The merchant paid him, but judging that Astor was not very bright, he paid him less.

Astor was doing the work of livestock!

Sure enough, Astor spent all his salary in the Fourth City in just a few days. He needed lodging and a lot of food, so his salary was gone by the second day.

He went out to do odd jobs again, but it was freezing cold and there was little physical work available. He had no connections and kept running into obstacles. In just a few days, he had gone hungry countless times.

He even went to the church to collect relief food. The pastor looked at him with great surprise. He said shyly that he was not getting enough to eat and that he had no work due to the cold weather, so he had to come to the church to collect some food to fill his stomach.

The pastor gave him an extra loaf of bread and said with a smile, "You'd better work hard."

Astor was extremely grateful.

The day Dracos provoked Veris, he had just come out of the church and stuffed all the dry food in his hand into his mouth.

After walking around, he heard the sound of horses' hooves and turned around to look.

He grabbed the horse not only because he thought it would harm others, but also because the decorations on its back looked expensive, and he hoped to get some reward for it.

He had no idea what would happen next.

What did Astor do wrong? He just wanted to be full!

During his few days of wandering around the fourth city, he realized that he had been fooled by the merchant, and he was both angry and heartbroken.

When Veris heard about his plight, he felt a pang of pity for the boy.

"Once I get to the capital, I'll sell this horse. That should be enough to support myself for a while, and then I'll find a job." Astor was completely following the plan regarding what to do in the city.

Whether it was the small town he originally wanted to go to or the fourth city, his plan was always the same: find a job, work, and eat his fill.

I should add that he hopes to find a job that includes meals.

It's unlikely he'll get a full meal, but he needs something to eat, otherwise he'll really starve to death.

Veris handed him the dry rations from his backpack and said, "I plan to enter the capital tonight. You should eat something first."

Astor's eyes widened. He had already eaten a portion of the church's relief food today. Although he was still very hungry, he estimated that he would be able to get through the night. He did not expect the Veris people to be so kind as to share their own food with him.

Clutching the dry rations, he was moved to tears: "Mr. Veris, you are too kind to me, just like the kind pastor of the church."

Veris was curious about one thing: "When do you get full?"

Astor thought for a moment, and realized that he had only ever had one full meal in his life, which was when the pastor treated him: "I ate about fifty-two loaves of bread, a large plate of roast meat, and a lot of fruit."

That time, the pastor went to collect taxes in the next village. He came to the last lazy man in the village, who refused to pay no matter what. The church's tax was not much, but he was a miser. He thought that he was a bachelor and just wouldn't pay. What could this weak pastor do to him?

However, the pastor remained adamant, and the other villagers stood by watching the spectacle. The lazy man, enraged, grabbed an axe and swung it at the pastor.

Astor happened to be there that day. He was herding cattle for the local landlord and had just received his money and put it in his pocket when he saw everyone gathered around. He went over to take a look and saw this thrilling scene.

Ten-year-old Astor, already big and strong, shouted and pounced, knocking the lazy man away.

The pastor also escaped death.

In gratitude, the pastor treated Astor to a meal. The pastor was wealthy, and Astor ate so much without complaining. He even told Astor to come to the church in the small town if he had any trouble.

From then on, Astor's fondness for the church increased dramatically.

Veris pulled on the reins, riding his horse along the snowy road, while Astor beside him wolfed down his food.

Seeing that the person barely chewed, he reminded him, "Don't choke."

Astor sniffed and mumbled, "Mr. Veris, your rations are delicious, better than any food I've ever eaten."

Veris smiled but remained silent; he was not about to mistreat himself.

Leaving the fourth city, it wasn't far from the capital, which is why Veris decided to enter the capital today.

The city gates of the capital are open all day, and there are guards at night.

After Astor finished eating, the two quickened their pace, and Astor even asked Veris, somewhat embarrassed, if he was hungry.

Veris shook his head; his body was still quite tolerant of hunger.

As night fell, the moon hung high in the sky, a rare sight in winter. The snowy road was illuminated considerably. Astor marveled, saying that on his previous journey to the Fourth City, it was pitch black every night, and this was the first time he had ever seen the night so bright.

The two rode at full speed. The weather was good, the road was clear, and they had no trouble traveling. Two hours later, they could see the towering city gate of the capital and buildings even taller than the gate in the distance.

The city gates were inlaid with luminous stones, and along the main road, there were stone platforms on both sides of the road where luminous stones were placed to illuminate the way.

The capital of Lortheran, a place that countless people yearn for, is home to the Grand Papacy of Orlando, and the number of pilgrims who travel to the Grand Papacy every day is staggering.

There are many minerals that can glow at night and serve as candlelight. They can be found everywhere in the capital city of Lortheran. The entire city is as bright as day even on winter nights. It is an extremely prosperous and luxurious city that cannot be matched by the other eleven districts combined.

Most of the buildings in the capital are light-colored, and under the pale yellow light, even in the freezing cold, it feels like you are in a warm place.

"So big—" Astor looked up at the towering city gate, tilting his head back, and couldn't help but draw out his words.

Although he looks like he's in his twenties, he's actually a fourteen-year-old boy, the same age as Murphy, and still very innocent.

Having never seen much of the world, they originally thought the Fourth City was already a wealthy city, but upon arriving in the capital, they discovered that the Fourth City was still inferior to the capital.

On the main road, there were many people heading to the capital, and their pace on horseback slowed down.

At that moment, light snow began to fall.

Astor sat on horseback, watching curiously the people by the roadside, bowing and making gestures with each step, muttering something under their breath: "What are they doing?"

Veris was also looking at those people, his voice much softer: "They are pilgrims."

He raised his chin. They came from the Fourth City, and naturally entered the capital through the South Gate, which was close to the Grand Papacy: "The tall tower you just saw is the Grand Papacy's tower."

Astor had heard of the Papacy and his eyes were filled with longing. Suddenly, he remembered something and asked Veris, "Where will you go after you enter the capital? I will definitely repay you when I make money."

Having eaten so much delicious dry food from Veris, he now considered Veris to be on par with the priest who had invited him to dinner.

Veris turned to look at him, then suddenly said, "Have you considered going to the Papacy?"

"The Papacy? Me? No, no... How can a lowly commoner like me go to the Papacy?" Astor was first startled, then said dejectedly.

He was neither as devout as those pilgrims, nor did he possess any noteworthy virtues; the Papacy was a place that the entire continent's churches yearned for.

“But where are you going to stay tonight? You might as well go to the Papacy; there are no thieves there, and they have security at night.” Veris shrugged.

Astor was shamefully tempted. He was penniless and clearly going to have to sleep on the streets. Although he had an expensive-looking horse under his backside, what if he got ripped off by someone like the previous merchant late at night?

He said hesitantly, "Then how about I follow you? I'll just look around from outside and won't go in."

As they spoke, they arrived at the city gate. Astor dismounted and subconsciously looked back. What he saw startled him when he saw the luxurious carriage behind him.

He and Veris were dawdling; wouldn't that anger the lord behind them?

"Let's... let's go in quickly," he said to Veris with a pained expression.

Veris led his horse to the registration area at the city gate, and upon hearing this, gave Astor a strange look: "You seem to be in a hurry."

Astor said there was a nobleman in line behind him.

Veris: "What does that have to do with us?"

Even royalty and nobles had to patiently wait in line at the entrance.

As he spoke, he took out his identity index from his pocket and placed it on the registration table. The sphere on the table flashed and then emitted a green light, proving that Veris's identity index was normal.

It was only then that Astor realized he didn't have this thing, and he immediately broke out in a cold sweat.

"I...I don't have this." He was really about to cry now. Was he going to have to sleep at the city gate tonight?

Veris said "Oh," and then told the young man at the registration desk, "Give him a temporary certificate, and the guardian should fill in my identity index."

The young man nodded, took a piece of paper from under the counter, and asked without looking up, "What's your name?"

"Aster".

"Where did it come from?"

"Fourth District".

"What is your permanent residence in the capital, sir?"

"The Papacy."

The young man paused in his writing, then looked up at Veris, "Is it personal guardianship or...?"

Veris raised his chin: "Guardianship of the Grand Papacy."

The young man's hand trembled slightly, but fortunately there were no stains on the temporary ID. He quickly filled in the information and placed it inside the sphere—from his perspective, the sphere was hollow inside.

A pale green magic flowed into the small crystal embedded in the scroll. The young man took it out, stamped it again, and then shone it on the sphere once more. This time, the sphere lit up with a green light, indicating that passage was permitted.

The registration area isn't on one side; it's on both the left and right. However, pedestrians go to the left, while those with vehicles or bikes go to the right.

This delay caused some people who were initially anxious, holding a stack of identity indexes and standing behind Veris, to become quiet after overhearing Veris's conversation with the young man at the registration desk.

He quieted down, but the person inside the luxury car grew impatient, lifting the curtain and shouting at his men, "Why are you so slow! What are you doing!"

As Astor watched Veris process his identification, he was dumbfounded, his mind filled with thoughts like, "How can this be done?", "So amazing!", "No wonder it's the capital."

Hearing someone shout impatiently behind him, Astor was startled. Despite his burly appearance, he shrank back and was about to ask if he should apologize to the nobleman when the young man registering the registration stood up.

He also shouted at the vehicle frame, "If you can't stand it, go to another city gate!"

Veris lifted his eyelids and stuffed the temporary identity document into Astor's hand: "Take this. Take this with you to the Papacy and find the priests. They will arrange your accommodation or meals when they see this."

The young people were still angrily cursing the people inside the luxury car.

"Hurry up! Has someone in your family died? Why are you rushing me like this? If you're in such a hurry, go to the East Gate, pay the money, and pay more to cut in line!"

Astor gasped – what a powerful attack!

"What kind of attitude is that? You're just a lowly registration official!" The person in the luxury car was also furious.

The young man said, "Whoever called first, get down here!" After saying that, he rolled up his sleeves and walked towards the bicycle rack. There were a few assistants at the registration desk who silently stood in the young man's place. They looked at the middle-aged butler holding a stack of identity indexes and said expressionlessly, "Come on."

The middle-aged steward was about to cry, unsure whether to try entering through a different city gate or simply hand over the index for registration.

He handed over the things in his hands with trembling hands, glancing at his young master's car every now and then.

The young man, with his arms bare, stood under the bicycle frame, pointing his finger at the young master and cursing.

The young master had never been insulted so viciously before. The insults ranged from personal attacks to the death of his entire family. He was brought to tears after only a few words.

The young man kicked the car frame again, making the luxurious decorations on it wobble, before walking towards the registration desk with his hands in his pockets.

Veris and Astor, who had already registered, stood by and watched the spectacle.

Veris said, "There are usually many pilgrims at the south gate. Those who are in a hurry to enter the capital generally don't choose the south gate." That young master seems to be spoiled and has quite a temper.

Astor's eyes sparkled: "He's so brave. I wouldn't dare to mess with these rich gentlemen."

Veris chuckled: "This is the capital. You can bump into someone on the street and they'll be associated with a nobleman. Being rich doesn't mean anything."

He led Astor into the capital.

Horses were not allowed to roam freely in the capital. The two men each led their own horses, with Veris taking the lead and guiding Astor toward the massive complex of buildings with its towering structures.

Pilgrims can still be seen everywhere along the road, bowing with every step, and many people wearing clothes with bow and arrow patterns. This is a place where faith gathers, and almost everyone you see here is a believer.

Astor stared wide-eyed at the sights, his state beyond words. Even though it was already late at night, there were still bards playing their harps and singing loudly by the roadside, and the shops were all open, with the aroma of food wafting through the air, mixed with the scents of other spice shops. It was hard to imagine that this was a place with a strong religious atmosphere; instead, it was more like a bustling street that could appear in any city.

This road is so long, it seems even longer than the longest street he saw in the Fourth City. After passing through the bustling street, there is another street with shops lining the streets, singing, laughter, and beautiful girls dancing on the balconies of the second floor. A long strip of luminous crystals hangs in the sky. The long street is covered with light snow, and the snowflakes melt in the warm air before they even hit the ground.

Melted snowflakes seemed to have landed on his face. Astor wiped his face and realized that they weren't snowflakes, but tears.

Veris tilted his head to look at him and smiled: "You cry a lot."

Astor wiped his face haphazardly and said, "I never thought I would see such a beautiful place. I'm glad I didn't go back to the village."

He looked up at the tall, solemn outline of the church at the end of the long street, his gaze gradually hardening: "I want to stay in the capital, I want to live here."

Even the longest street has an end, and the long road has witnessed the footprints of countless pilgrims. The street is extremely prosperous, and people's laughter can be heard all the time. The pilgrims' eyes are always on the church at the end of the long street, which is the only destination for them after traveling thousands of miles.

At the end of the long street, you can see the large square in front of the church. The huge statue of the Pope stands in the center of the square. There are poets playing and singing in the square. Believers gather in twos and threes, sitting, standing, and lying down. The warm light falls on them. Laughter and chanting intertwine, but are finally suppressed by a voice.

The poets stopped singing, the lying believers sat up, and the pilgrims, at the foot of the pope's statue, performed their final prostrations, their voices amplified as their foreheads touched the hard ground of the square.

The clear, crisp voices of children rang out in unison, and the notes of the harp blended perfectly into this pure sound.

Astor held his breath, asked Veris to help him lead his horse, and ran towards the group of little men in front of the church.

The children, no more than five or six years old, at most seven or eight, stood in rows wearing fluffy winter clothes. The pastors sat beside them playing tall instruments. A number of believers had already gathered around, all sitting and listening quietly to the choir's performance.

This is the legendary Papacy.

A place that countless people yearn for.

Their souls were cleansed and resonated here; all their sins and regrets were poured out beneath the Pope's statue.

Ahead stood a tall church, its spire covered with a thin layer of snow. Beside the massive archway, several priests stood together, their gazes gentle as they watched the choir's retreating figures.

The snow was quite heavy this time, and it was truly icy cold as it fell on our heads and faces.

Veris, leading two horses, sighed. "Aster is really trusting of people. These horses are his only possessions."

He patted his horse and said, "Take your temporary companion to the stable."

The horse flicked its tail, whimpered a few times, and then spontaneously walked in another direction. Strangely, Astor's horse followed, as if it understood Veris's words.

Empty-handed, Veris went to find Astor, only to discover that the tall man had already blended in with the believers. However, his size was so conspicuous that he stood aside and looked at the choir.

They were singing the long poem he had written.

Some people don't care what the hymns are about; they just feel relaxed and happy listening to a group of children singing.

It was almost midnight, and this was the choir's last performance of the day.

It would be quite a while after the song ended. Veris thought for a moment, then walked towards the church, stopped a passing pastor, said a few words, and then pointed to Aster, who was conspicuous in the crowd.

The pastor was taken aback, memorized Astor's appearance, and said, "Yes, sir, we will make proper arrangements for him."

Veris nodded, about to say something, when suddenly a voice rang out: "You arrived here without even telling us."

The person who walked out of the church was none other than the Holy Son, Sylvain, who had just finished praying.

The pastor recognized Sylvain and bowed respectfully to greet him. Sylvain responded, and Veris, seeing this, simply pulled Sylvain along and walked towards the cloister next to the church.

Sylvain pursed his lips, offering no resistance, and followed his lead.

The pastor looked up, his eyes wide with shock, thinking to himself, "So he's a friend of the Holy Son."

"That guy Riveren, he wants my help dealing with people but he won't just say so. I have to guess." The corridor was much quieter than the square, and Veris was talking familiarly with Sylvain about the affairs of the Fourth District.

He didn't really believe that Riveren had just finished talking to him about Thorne, and then these two people would come knocking on his door right away.

Riveren is a shrewd fellow; he can outsmart ordinary people more easily than developing low-level potions.

Sylvain frowned: "I heard that the Golden Merchant Guild offended you."

Veris waved his hand, saying that he had only been scolded once and it was nothing. In his early years as a poet, he was scolded every day for singing nonsense.

But then he remembered something else: "Why are people outside saying I'm dead?"

He was very indignant: "So what if I haven't been out for a few years? I went to the Fourth City and everyone said I was dead."

Sylvain emphasized: "It's been almost ten years."

Even before taking Sylvain to the capital, Veris remained silent, a silence he had maintained for nearly six years.

Veris rubbed his nose: "Mainly because the Papacy doesn't have much going on, they don't contact me, and when they do, it's always some trivial matter, so I can't be bothered with them."

He was completely focused on raising his child back then.

Even now, there is heated discussion outside about whether Veris is still alive. Only the archbishop inside knows that Veris is not dead and has brought back a holy child.

At first, the archbishops were speculating whether Sylvain was Veris's son, but the two didn't look alike at all, and it seemed impossible.

Veris only told the archbishop that Sylvain was his successor, without even mentioning that he was an adopted son.

"You brought someone else with you?" Sylvain asked Veris.

Veri nodded readily: "Yes, that kid is perfect to be a soldier. Let Fikris go and take a look tomorrow. I feel like he could take down Fikris with one punch."

Sylvain: "Fikris is going to be heartbroken."

“Hahaha,” Veris laughed, leaning closer to the person next to him, “Why aren’t you sad this time?”

Sylvain used to get anxious whenever he saw Sylvain showing goodwill towards the Hero Squad.

Veris wore a playful smile, and his brimming eyes held an unreadable emotion.

His friend, expressionless, said, "He's not good-looking."

Veris: "..."

-----------------------

Author's Note: Astor let out a cry like a buffalo.

The Mysterious History of the Seven Secrets

Veris perfectly inherited some of her mother's traits, such as being attracted to good-looking people.

After finding Sylvain unconscious by the roadside, Veris stared at his handsome face and couldn't move, then happily pulled him away.

We can't let someone this good-looking get away.

After Sylvain woke up, he was persuaded to travel together, and Sylvain did not refuse.

He sensed a familiar aura emanating from Veris.

He later learned that Veris possessed remnants of the god of love, which was why he felt a sense of familiarity.

“We are good friends,” Veris told him.

Sylvain nodded, indicating that he had remembered.

He didn't quite understand what a good friend was, but as long as he was with Veris, that was enough.

Veris, who listens to his mother's love stories every day, can't resist teasing his friend's serious face every day.

Sylvain didn't understand the nonsense, but he had a good memory and silently memorized it. One day, he said the exact same thing to Veris.

Veris exclaimed in shock: "My dear friend, who have you been corrupted by?!"

Sylvain: "..."

Angry.jpg

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Veris was a libertine; few of his jokes were true. He was adept at charming women, and even the most haughty ladies couldn't resist his handsome face.

Coupled with a mouth full of sweet words, who could resist?

Sylvain looked very unhappy, but he didn't know why he was unhappy.

Veris immediately noticed that his friend was in low spirits.

The handsome face moved closer to Sylvain and smiled, "Are you jealous, my dear friend?"

Sylvain stared at him, but before he could say anything, their companions ran over, and the matter was dropped.

The children of Cupid are born masters of manipulating emotions.

However, Veris never had any close relationships with anyone. Sylvain was like a mad dog guarding a bone, unable to find a target, yet feeling that the whole world was his target.

Lortheran gave him a bad idea: "Here's what you do: get Veris drunk and then kiss him, see how he reacts."

Sylvain's first reaction was to refuse.

Lortheran added, "Don't think that Veris sees you as innocent."

He chuckled. Two fools, especially that Veris, who looks like a womanizer but is actually incredibly innocent.

I bet those two idiots don't even realize they treat their friends very differently.

Sylvain was half-convinced, and before he could figure it out, Veris left without saying goodbye one day.

I've searched everywhere but can't find it.

Sylvain has really gone mad this time.