Full-Time Wizard: Starting with Harvesting Wheat

When news of the knights' arrival in Lanxi Town spread, Roy was in the blacksmith's shop, forging an iron sword with Old John. It wasn't an order from the lord, but a gift for another young man who was about to be conscripted.

Therefore, the design should not be too complicated, lest the lord see that Old John is biased, but at the same time, it should be distinguishable from ordinary iron swords.

While revising the design drawings, Roy repeatedly drew according to the suggestions for improvement from the Eye of True Sight, while Old John sat in a rocking chair to the side, his eyes half-closed, looking relaxed, saying that he wanted to test Roy's design skills.

Oh.

"Investigation" is just an excuse.

Exploitation! This is blatant exploitation!

If there were a workers' association in Lanxi Town, he would definitely sue old John and try to seize his property.

Wait, should I change a picture for Sanyin?

Could this be the same as working overtime?

laugh.

Roy lovingly stroked the design drawing.

I will make sure this iron sword is sharp enough to slay dragons!

Lunch consisted of soft white bread and stewed radish with meat—a meal far exceeding the usual standard.

This must be one of the perks of being close to being drafted.

He sat on the steps in front of the blacksmith's shop eating with Gerald, which reminded him of the time he shared black bread with Olga.

The only difference was that Gerald seemed a little resistant to him, unconsciously sitting a little further away from him.

However, this is harmless.

Although white bread differs from the bread I ate in my previous life, its sweetness far surpasses that of black bread, making it a high-quality food from the Middle Ages.

The radish stew with meat is cooked until tender and fragrant, maximizing the flavor of the fresh meat with minimal seasoning. The soup is thick and bubbling with vitality.

"Ha—" Roy gulped down the soup, milky steam billowing from his mouth. The rich aroma of fat mixed with a hint of fishiness filled his nostrils—it was simply indescribable how delicious it was.

Suddenly—

"Have you heard? A nobleman has come to our town."

A gossipy woman hurried by, sharing the news she had just heard with her companion.

"He must be a knight, I hear he's quite handsome," his companion said, intrigued.

"Yes, not only is he of noble birth and handsome, but what's even more remarkable is that I heard he is very respectful to the town mayor, saying he is a highly respected elder," the woman said with a smile.

"Really? Who told you that?"

"Don't tell anyone else. It's the mayor's wife..."

The sound gradually faded into the distance.

Roy squinted, stood up, dusted himself off, and prepared to return to the forge to continue working.

Nobles were a distant and rare breed, so when one arrived, the townspeople would line the streets to welcome him and use it as a topic of conversation for the future.

Unfortunately, all of this is irrelevant to them and will not change their quality of life. It won't give them an extra layer of clothing in winter, or an extra bowl of rice when they are hungry. At most, it will remain a fantasy, an unrealistic fantasy.

Unrealistic fantasies have no effect on Roy.

Therefore, he didn't care about it.

Just as they were about to enter, more pedestrians passed by the blacksmith's shop, still mentioning the nobleman in their conversation. It seemed that the news had already spread throughout the town.

But their conversation made Roy stop in his tracks.

"Did you know? That young master is none other than the lord's son! The third son! He's already a full-fledged knight at such a young age!"

"You mean, Lotel!?"

The moment the surname was uttered, a well-known name flashed through Roy's mind—the original owner's memories.

—Histor Lotter.

The current lord of Blackwater Territory is deeply loved by the people. He has purged the bandits and thieves from the territory, allowing everyone to live a peaceful and prosperous life.

He is undoubtedly a good lord.

Previously, Roy had expressed doubts about the bloodline of the Lotter Lion.

Could it be that this Lotter refers to the Lotter family?

The Lotter Lion is a bloodline that has been passed down through their family for a long time.

Droc actually killed a lord's son, collected his blood in a storage bottle, and then obtained the bloodline of the Lothlion.

With the arrival of this nobleman, this speculation is gradually becoming a reality.

What could possibly motivate a high-ranking nobleman to personally visit a remote town?

It is very likely that they are investigating the death of a loved one.

Based on this speculation, Roy believed it was necessary to use the Eye of True Sight to observe the nobleman.

If he successfully observes the bloodline of the Lotter lion, the credibility of his guess will rise to 80%.

Before that, he needs to mitigate the risks.

If that nobleman really finds out about Delock, he will eventually trace it back to him.

He stole the storage bottle and the Bloodline Resonance Fern. Most importantly, the blood in that storage bottle contained a certain amount of Lotl Lion's blood.

After a long absence, he returned to the forge and asked old John for half a day off.

Old John had also heard the rumors of the nobleman's arrival and guessed that Roy must want to see the nobleman, so he did not refuse.

While understanding that nobleman might not necessarily bring any benefit, it is certainly not a bad thing.

After leaving the blacksmith's shop, Roy went straight home.

He took out the hidden Bloodline Resonance Fern and the storage bottle from the wooden bucket. The fern's red leaves were unfolding, indicating that it was absorbing blood as nourishment.

Yesterday morning, Roy took a small portion of his own blood and fed it to the Bloodline Resonance Fern.

Twenty-four hours passed, and he did not extract any blood. As a result, the Bloodline Resonance Fern had begun to convert it into nutrients.

A faint red mist filled the large glass container.

He clutched the liquid bottle in his palm, covered the glass container with a cloth, tucked it under his arm, and found a less frequented path, heading towards the cemetery.

When he returned, he had nothing on him. He had planned to follow the idle townspeople to find the nobleman and observe him from a distance, but unexpectedly, the moment he entered his house, he saw a familiar figure.

"Larry?" He stared at the sheriff with feigned surprise.

"...Come with me, young man. You should know that a nobleman has come to town?" Larry sighed. "That nobleman wants to question you. Don't worry, as long as you answer honestly, it shouldn't be a bad thing."

If you disobey the orders of a nobleman, you're asking for trouble; in serious cases, you could be executed.

Therefore, he absolutely had to answer this question.

Roy could only follow Larry, but his thoughts were wandering in his mind.

There was no need to observe whether the nobleman had any bloodline; the fact that he had approached him and asked him questions was enough to confirm his previous guess.

However, the speed of this investigation is truly astonishing. It seems that by using the power of the nobles, they can move almost unimpeded in the town.

Luckily, I had hidden the things beforehand.

When I looked up, I had already reached the finish line.

Larry's destination was Delock's mansion—meaning that the nobleman already knew everything, including matters related to wizards.

This is perfectly normal—if Larry dared to utter a single falsehood when facing someone of a much higher status than himself, he might as well not be a sheriff.

Just as they were about to step into the house, Larry suddenly stopped and turned to him, kindly reminding him, "Remember, whatever the young master asks later, you must answer truthfully. Don't hide anything. I bet Delock has a grudge against this young master from before. If you kill him, you might not only escape punishment, but it might even be a good thing."

Roy nodded silently and stepped into the house as instructed.

The hall was eerily quiet. A knight, clad in heavy armor, stood there. His silver armor gleamed coldly in the light, and his imposing presence was so awe-inspiring that no one dared to look him in the eye.

He crossed his arms and observed the flipped painting with great interest.