Chapter 22
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Translator: MJK
Chapter: 022
Chapter Title: New Nest
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‘An invitation.’
The boy opened the envelope and read the letter.
It was dressed up in all sorts of flowery language, but the gist was a dinner invitation—please drop by at your convenience.
Andy found it astonishing.
‘Who would’ve thought the mayor of a city would invite someone like me...’
This wasn’t some village chief from a backwater hamlet. This was the mayor of an actual city.
Sure, it was a modest one with barely a thousand souls, but a city was a city. Its influence had to dwarf any village head’s by a humiliating margin.
And that mayor had invited him—a kid who’d been scraping by as an orphan just days ago.
Suddenly, a thought struck Andy.
‘The status of a mage must be higher than I realized. Enough to send an invitation to a child like me.’
He knew it in his head.
Mages ruled this world alongside knights and nobles. Their standing didn’t lag behind the aristocracy in the slightest.
But he was still just a kid. No connections, no family name. He’d figured even as a mage, he wouldn’t get much respect.
How wrong he’d been.
Mages outranked some lord-appointed mayor by miles. No matter how lofty the title, mayors were just commoners who could be swapped out anytime. Mages, on the other hand, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with nobles—the upper crust.
Inviting him to pay respects upon hearing a mage had arrived? Perfectly natural.
Andy turned to the soldier who’d delivered the letter.
“Do I have to go right now?”
“Not at all. Please visit whenever you’re comfortable.”
“Then tell him I’ll come tomorrow evening. I’ve got things to take care of today.”
“I’ll pass that along, Mage. Have a good day.”
The soldier departed. Andy watched him go, murmuring softly to himself.
“First things first... I need to get some clothes.”
He glanced down at his outfit. What he saw were rags, plain and simple.
Andy’s clothes were beyond shabby.
He looked worse than a beggar—worse than the average commoner. They hadn’t been great to begin with, and two weeks on the road as a refugee had left them filthy and torn to shreds.
Showing up to meet the city mayor like this? Major faux pas.
Money was tight, so fine threads were out of the question, but at least something clean...
“And I need to wash up at an inn.”
It wasn’t just his clothes that were a mess.
His skin was caked in sweat and grime. Time for a proper scrub.
With a plan set—bath at the inn, new clothes, then answer the mayor’s summons—Andy set off for the commercial district.
The boy’s first stop wasn’t a clothing shop or an inn.
It was the blacksmith.
The only one in this little city—the sole place dealing in iron goods.
From farmers’ tools to the guards’ gear, every metal implement in town came from here.
Creeeak.
As Andy pushed open the door and stepped inside, a bushy-bearded middle-aged man greeted him.
“Here on an errand, kid?”
The blacksmith took Andy for a messenger boy.
Fair enough. On the surface, he was just a young boy. Mistaking him for an errand runner instead of a customer made sense.
Andy dragged a hefty sack across the floor and up to the counter.
“I want to sell all this.”
“...What is it? Looks heavy.”
“Gear looted from Empire soldiers. Cavalry equipment. The whole lot.”
That was why Andy had come here.
‘Sell the looted gear, and I’ll have enough to stick around town for a while.’
Metal goods were pricey. Military-grade stuff forged from high-quality iron? Even more so.
And not just any infantry—the Empire’s cavalry, an elite force. Their equipment had to be top-notch.
With luck, he’d get a solid price.
The smith rummaged through the sack, inspecting the pieces. He nodded approvingly.
“Empire light cavalry gear. All in great shape. No punctures, no breaks.”
“Good stuff?”
“Good? Empire quality speaks for itself. Pristine condition, decent quantity... I can give you a fair price.”
Andy had taken them down with lightning magic. The gear was barely damaged—just some scorch marks here and there. No bent blades, no chipped edges, no pierced armor.
Prime resale material.
But when the smith named his offer...
“Altogether... six gold coins and three large silvers. Sound good?”
“...”
Andy was speechless.
Too cheap? Hardly. The opposite—the price blew past his expectations.
One gold coin hired a tenant farmer for a month. Frugal commoner family could stretch it two. And here were six of them. The loot had fetched way more than he’d dreamed.
“Not happy with it? They’re used, even if they’re perfect. This is my best...”
“No, it’s perfect. I’ll take it.”
“Hmph... Here’s your coin.”
Clink.
Six gold coins and three large silvers landed in Andy’s palm. The cool, heavy metal felt wonderful.
“So where’d you get this stuff? Haven’t heard of any Empire troops around here.”
The smith hefted the sack effortlessly as he spoke. Years of hard labor had made the big man strong as an ox.
Andy headed for the door, answering over his shoulder.
“All spoils of war I claimed myself. Took down the Empire cavalry raiders and stripped their gear.”
“What?”
“I’ll be back.”
Thunk. The boy stepped out and shut the door.
Left alone, the smith chuckled.
“Kid’s got some imagination.”
He didn’t buy it for a second. The boy was just a child—what cavalry could he have hunted?
Mounted knights could handle ten foot soldiers alone. A boy taking them down? Obviously a tall tale.
The smith would learn the truth later.
Outside the smithy, Andy stared at the coins in his hand.
Six gleaming gold coins. Three large silvers shining bright.
He murmured to himself.
“Money.”
This was the first real ‘money’ he’d ever held.
The old Andy had never owned a coin. Just the inn’s orphan, worked like a slave for scraps—no proper wages.
One meal a day. Rags for clothes. That was the inn’s ‘generosity.’ He’d only touched money running errands or making change.
But now? Real money in his hand. Not coppers—gold. A small fortune, all his.
“This is really mine.”
The feeling was profound. He’d never even held a single copper, and now gold coins were his.
Clutching this windfall made him feel secure, like nothing could touch him.
Was this why everyone chased money so hard?
“Alright... time to find an inn.”
Andy turned toward the inns.
This being a city of sorts, there were five—bigger than the village dives.
He picked the quietest, least crowded one. As a mage who meditated often, he avoided bustle like the plague.
Stepping into the serene inn...
“Welcome! Oh? What’s up, little one? Errand boy?”
The proprietress eyed him curiously. A child wandering in alone? No guardian in sight.
Just as he’d expected. Andy told her plainly.
“One week’s stay. Two meals a day, and hot water for baths.”
“Huh? You’re the guest? Where’s your guardian?”
“I’m an orphan.”
“...”
She frowned. A kid renting solo? Unheard of for her.
But Andy had money.
Clink.
She sighed, handing over a key.
“Third floor, room two.”
Guardian or no, money spent meant a customer. Her place was the quiet type—slow business. A kid was better than empty beds.
Andy took the key and entered his room.
One look, and he frowned.
‘No wonder it’s empty.’
The place was a dump.
Dust bunnies on the floor. Furniture decrepit at a glance.
At least the bedding was spotless—that was something.
Andy chuckled softly.
“First time checking in as a guest instead of staff.”
He’d slaved away at the inn like a fixture.
Years at Gavory’s, but never once as a patron. Only darting around for chores.
Now? A paying guest. His circumstances had truly improved.
He unpacked.
Sparse belongings: a few clothes, three roots of Yohan Grass, and...
‘The magic book.’
The tome where he’d learned his craft. That was it.
Tucked neatly in a drawer, Andy surveyed the room. Stark and plain.
To others, it’d seem dismal.
Tiny window, scant light. Sloppy cleaning, dust everywhere. Belongings fit in one drawer—barely anything.
Yet to Andy, it felt like a palace.
He’d spent his life in a cramped, dark, damp closet under the stairs.
A real bed, furniture, a window—this was his first taste.
Even this rundown room brought deep satisfaction.
‘This is my new nest.’
Free from the closet hovel, he finally had a proper human dwelling.
A shabby inn room for now. But better times lay ahead.
He was young, but a mage—with prodigious talent.
Andy didn’t cling to the present. Growth meant better everything, and he knew it.
He burrowed into the bed. It creaked under him. He let the sound lull him to sleep.
Drowsiness came swiftly.
His first night in the small city.
The next day, Andy kept busy.
Bathed with the inn’s hot water, hit the clothing shop for decent attire, barber for a trim.
Staring in the mirror, he marveled.
“Is that me?”
A noble-looking boy gazed back.
Pale, delicate skin evoked a pampered young master. Refined features radiated elegance; soft, deep eyes held a mystical gleam.
His true face, unveiled at last.
Always filthy, ragged, unkempt—his looks had stayed hidden.
A little care, and beauty shone through. Like a highborn heir.
Andy muttered awkwardly at his reflection.
“Even I wouldn’t recognize me.”
The transformation was that stark. Anyone who knew the old him might walk right past.
Not a bad feeling. Proof his raw looks were exceptional. Just... hard to get used to such refinement.
Preparations complete, he nodded.
“This should be presentable at least. Time to meet the mayor.”
Yesterday’s invitation: dinner and talk.
Andy headed for the mayor’s residence to accept.