Above The Sky
Chapter 460 - 460 430 You're Already an Inspector Knight 33

460: Chapter 430 You’re Already an Inspector Knight (3/3) 460: Chapter 430 You’re Already an Inspector Knight (3/3) Throughout the journey, Ian had already roughly constructed a model of Nauman City’s architectural distribution in his mind.

Nauman City is a city shaped like unfolding petals, gradually expanding outwards with the Bastion District, also known as the Upper City District, at its core.

The center of the Upper City District is encircled by the Nauman Wei River, with castle towers still in operation, equipped with Alchemical Cannons and powerful crossbows.

Rather than being an area for the wealthy or a gathering place for high society, it’s more apt to describe it as a carefully guarded fortress.

At the heart of the Upper City District lies Marquis Barton’s lordly castle which is exceedingly tall and robust, but that isn’t the Governor’s Mansion.

The Governor’s Mansion is located on the northern Capital Avenue, consisting of a three-story manor with a front yard.

Its design is fairly simple, and the original bell tower and attic have been transformed into watchtowers manned by guards.

Ian estimated that even if one were to assault this place with cannons, the losses would likely be heavy.

Centering the Upper City District, there’s a high tower for Spirit Energy Users and four large Alchemy Workshop districts.

Two trade districts lie a bit further out, one of which is the Boleyn Workshop.

They all feature lofty spires, which are said to better channel the power of the Natural Spiritual Energy Field.

In summary, Nauman City is essentially these eight major parts, with most residents congregating around the Alchemy Workshops and trade districts, while the Spirit Energy User’s high tower is located in the secluded northwestern part, where military barracks and watchposts stand.

“The General is waiting for you on the second floor.”

On the surface, Ian was smoothly led by a knight through the front yard, then escorted inside the mansion by another guard…

It all seemed incredibly fluid, but Ian felt that there were too many covert watchers, with eyes full of scrutiny and analysis, which would be difficult for the average person to endure.

Though the average person wouldn’t notice them, that is.

When Ian reached the second floor following the spiral staircase, the young man noticed the absence of prying eyes.

Not just that, the entire second floor of the mansion was pitch-black and utterly silent, as though as quiet as death itself.

It was as if he had stepped into another world.

“How is it, young man, feeling much fresher, aren’t you?”

A placid and steady voice came from the balcony on the second floor of the mansion, where a tall man in armor with a longsword at his side stood.

He turned his head, his dark brown hair and the edges of his slightly curled beard shimmering with an unnatural Origin Quality halo within the darkness, and his golden-green eyes were all the more brilliant, momentarily making one mistake them for the sun’s radiance.

Barton Hennil, the possessor of True Form ‘White Flame Executor’.

A True Form that amalgamates the advantages of various Magical Beasts like the ‘True Flame Eagle’ and the ‘Azure Wind Gryphon’, with perhaps the only side effect being his keenness and sensitivity akin to that of a Hawk Owl, a constant state of vigilance that is both the boon and bane of his True Form.

Reflected in the General’s eyes was the flickering Spirit Energy Radiance in Ian’s own, and he began to smile, “How many did you see?”

“Twenty-three on the way, five following all the time.”

The young alchemist gave a slight bow, and the General casually waved his hand, “No need for formalities.

What about inside the manor?”

“Six in the yard, twelve in total on the first floor.” Ian shook his head slightly, “There were too many people.”

“After all, there was a banquet held here at noon with an emissary from Canaan Moore, and on top of that, a prison break by members of the Dragon Worship Cult.

On regular days, there would be only about a third of them, or even fewer.”

Marquis Barton was even more pleased, stroking his beard, “But you counted one extra…

oh, did you include me?

Did you notice my gaze?”

He was somewhat surprised.

Ian did not answer, and the General laughed heartily, calling for the maid to come upstairs, “Let’s start dinner.”

“I thought that a General wouldn’t have the leisure or appetite for a private meeting with an Alchemist like me.”

Ian raised an eyebrow, not expecting that Marquis Barton would truly have a one-on-one dinner with him alone.

He had thought there would be others attending the private dinner with him.

“There were supposed to be three others, one a distinguished guest, like you, also recommended to join the Knight Order of Inspectorate.”

Marquis Barton acted decisively, as did the maids in his mansion; in less than three minutes, the dining table in the hall was covered with various dishes, obviously having anticipated Ian’s arrival time perfectly, with all the food freshly and hotly served.

Sitting at the head of the table, he commented with some regret, “Sadly, the distinguished guest suddenly had other matters and may arrive a bit later, and the other two…

were somewhat disappointing and did not meet the criteria.”

—Lies.

At least the first part was a lie.

Ian nodded thoughtfully.

“I must say, the Spirit Energy of the observation type indeed lets you see more and greatly aids your profession,” Marquis Barton observed Ian, nodding slightly, “Appraisal, alchemy, and knighthood – excellent methods for gathering information, far more important than anyone imagines, and you indeed possess a talent for it.”

“After all, ordinary people would not take note of Master Oak’s Soulseed…

You moved your shoulder several times just now, no need to signal, I can see it.”

Having said this, he raised his hand, and a sharply intense, invisible gust of wind flickered, striking an intangible entity on the young man’s shoulder in an instant.

[There’s no need to be so direct]

Instantly, a greenish, wooden shark-shaped Spiritual Body materialized, and the voice of Master Oak uttered discontentedly: [You stingy Great Hawk, letting me listen wouldn’t cost you a slice of meat!]

“Oh, cut it out.” The Marquis snorted: “You old stump, it’s already a great courtesy that I haven’t expelled you from the country as an emissary of our ally.”

“If you want to know, you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

The Spirit Substance of the wooden shark was burnt into pieces by the blazing wind before even more curses could be heard, Ian showed interest: “Truly magical.”

“It’s one application of a Third Energy Level Heart Light Body, and you have a chance, possibly even before me.”

Marquis Barton withdrew his fingers, nodded, pulled a dagger from his waist, and planted it in the roast bear paw before him: “Come, let us eat and talk.”

The private dinner of the Marquis was rough, unbecoming of a noble, consisting solely of various large pieces of meat, a real collection of hearty dishes, with the only refinement possibly being a ‘Beast Pot’ or a ‘Beast Iron Pot Stew.’

This dish was made using a big iron pot, sorting various cuts of beast meat into categories, adding them in a certain sequence, and stewing them into a large bowl at the end.

The ingredients included chicken, pork, beef, and bear meat, with more specific parts like chicken wings and chicken hearts, ribs and pig’s feet, and so on.

Beyond that, there were also rabbit, tiger meat, and the like.

It might sound disorderly, but the chef’s skilled hands perfectly stewed every ingredient to the point of tenderness without falling apart, with each standing out clearly, offering a diversity of flavors to taste.

Of course, what was most awe-inspiring was that most of these meats came from Magical Beasts.

And they were the most essencial parts of those beasts.

Both men ate in silence, heartily enjoying their meal with great gusto.

Ian certainly wasn’t being shy, having just advanced his Sublimation Organ, he needed to replenish his nutrients, and here was someone treating him to a feast of Magical Beast meats.

Of course, he also had to watch not to eat too much, lest he raise suspicion.

He needed to strike the right balance.

“Back in the north, defending against the unrest in the Dark Mountain Range, there weren’t many kitchen tools in the army, so we used one big iron pot to stew the spoils of war.

It was so cold that we had to keep stewing and adding ingredients, otherwise the sauce would freeze.”

The Marquis was surprisingly talkative, in sharp contrast to Mr.

Silver Workshop’s description, who indicated that he talked more only with people he was interested in.

“I’ve heard your cooking isn’t half bad either.

Can you tell me how many kinds of Magical Beasts you tasted, and what they are specifically?”

“Seven.”

Ian glanced at the iron pot and excluded two beasts that theoretically, he shouldn’t know about or have seen before, as well as two avian Magical Beasts with very similar flavors that he, being at the First Energy Level, couldn’t distinguish or hadn’t tasted.

“They are Hard Shell Bear, Snake Scale Owl, Great Forest Leopard, Fierce Rabbit, Sharp Claw Tiger, Ironbone Swordfish, and wine tubers—if you count Sublimation Plants as well.”

This question was actually quite dangerous because what one could taste revealed what Magical Beasts one had eaten before…

A careless answer could potentially expose issues that shouldn’t be exposed.

Fortunately, over the years, Ian had indeed eaten many Magical Beasts out in the open.

“Not bad,” Marquis Barton nodded again, used his knife as a fork, and ate a piece of meat, then followed up with a slight smile.

“You surely also tasted other Magical Beasts, it’s just that you don’t know what they taste like.”

He put down his knife and wiped his mouth with a napkin: “Ian, do you think Nauman City is chaotic or not?”

The youth didn’t bat an eyelid: “I think it’s well-ordered and tranquil.”

“Oh?” The General raised his tone: “I’ve recently been the target of assassination in Fiery Flame Land, then there was trouble from the Dragon Worship Cult, Canaan Moore sent emissaries over demanding the extradition of prisoners, only for them to escape from prison again—not to mention the Spirit Wisdom Institute and all sorts of other messes peering in.

Does that sound well-ordered to you?”

Tilting his head, Ian’s gaze remained clear: “I can’t tell, General.”

“Good.”

And the Marquis clapped his hands with satisfaction: “That’s the point.

You can’t tell—that’s the most important thing.”

“The ability to see problems isn’t really a skill.

Knowing that some problems don’t need to be seen, knowing that some things aren’t important at all, knowing what the real situation is—that’s true skill.”

Ian displayed a puzzled expression that seemed just right: “I’m a bit lost, General, after all, I’m just a Knight.”

“An Inspector Knight,” the old General emphasized: “But of course, you’re still an Apprentice.”

“You don’t need to test me, Ian, you’ve already met the standard, with quite exceptional results.”