Chapter 7: A Transition

Aetherlin Kingdom, Radiance City, Nanming District, 37 Starfall Street—Lian’s new home.

It was a three-story wooden house with a yard, located in the commercial area of Nanming District, surrounded by flowers and greenery. The source of it all, however, was... well, a bit complicated.

“Take this house outside the Fourth Ring and get away from my daughter!” That’s roughly how it came about.

A classic internet novel trope—the domineering father-in-law slamming down a card to humiliate someone, carrying a subtle twist.

If he’s offering a house to slap someone’s face with, why choose one outside the Fourth Ring and not within the First Ring... Oh, the wealthy of the First Ring can’t even afford it? Well, never mind then.

Looking at the freshly replaced roof tiles, Lian set down the paint bucket with satisfaction.

As a person from Earth, having a small home so quickly felt like a dream.

Although this house was a gift for a broken engagement, and its origins were somewhat delicate, Lian was still quite pleased with this new home... at least he no longer had to fear waking up with a dwarf’s firearm pressed against his forehead.

The security here was far better than the previous dock area, and not far away stood a police kiosk where patrol officers could be seen regularly.

Nanming District, also known as the South Gate District, bordered the city’s outer walls and was considered a commoner’s district. Adjacent to it was the dock area, notorious for the highest crime rate—the place where Lian had previously taken shelter.

Lian’s current status was still somewhat noble; his original family had cast him out for a political marriage but had not completely erased his name.

In this grand era, it was normal for a fallen noble, despite poverty, to boldly enter wealthier commercial and political districts. Having education and literacy skills meant one could find a respectable job and potentially rise again.

Yet now, the “fiancée” living in the Radiance District (the central administrative area) had given him a house in the farthest outskirts, almost as if to say, “Don’t come looking for me,” or “Don’t wander around.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. Bring more, the more deeds to slap my face with, the better!”

Lian happily accepted this “broken engagement compensation” and even set aside daily time to decorate his new home.

The house was nearly new, with the master bedroom on the third floor and decent materials throughout. It was a bit lonely living alone, and maintenance took some time and effort.

The price of a house depended on location, and this one was probably the cheapest tier.

Locals would find it hard to understand Lian’s yearning for a “home” and why, as a noble, he would be ecstatic to receive a free house—a very Earthling mentality.

In recent days, he had repaired the lawn and fence, painted the gate, and spent an hour crafting a nameplate for himself.

But in truth, while working and indulging in hobbies, his mind was never idle.

He was contemplating his next moves.

“It’s time to organize intelligence and determine the next priorities.” While his hands busied themselves, he had already integrated vast amounts of information.

As a former office workaholic, Lian had a good habit of scheduling both short- and long-term plans.

Many tasks piled up—some urgent, some delayable.

Even tasks that could be postponed had varying degrees of importance—some required serious attention, while others could be dragged out until they disappeared.

He made a work plan, regularly adjusting progress and prioritizing without causing chaos.

His notebook listed the short-, medium-, and long-term goals succinctly.

[1. Adapt to the local environment and integrate into society in the short term.]

[2. Acquire extraordinary powers and develop himself in the medium term.]

[3. Deal with two ticking time bombs (the Hero and the underground Evil God) in the long term and simply survive.]

“The foremost task is still to become a local...” Lian never underestimated the rejection and hostility intelligent beings held toward outsiders; kindness and care were often reserved for one’s own kind.

“To integrate means identity, relationships, connections, and residence...”

Lian was grateful for this gift. A home was not merely shelter from wind and rain, but proof to others that “I am not a passerby” and a prerequisite for blending into local society.

A doghouse was more trustworthy than a homeless person or a traveler and made it easier to gain locals’ trust and job opportunities.

His current identity seemed stable: the title of “Classical Paladin” was incredibly useful.

According to legend, a paladin’s morality was guaranteed by a deity. The classical oathbound paladins relied less on gods and more on their own hearts and actions, with a moral baseline regarded by most locals as nearly saintly.

His knowledge and understanding, however, were tricky... Knowledge in this world was prohibitively expensive, and Lian’s funds had been nearly exhausted—he couldn’t pour more into this bottomless pit.

Libraries existed but were often private collections owned by organizations or nobles, inaccessible to him.

“Perhaps I can find a class to attend—not full-time, just a nominal position to help build social connections.”

If it were local factions, these things should be standard benefits.

In fact, a female officer had approached Lian twice, inviting him to join the police force.

Lian replied he’d consider it but did not outright refuse—this was already a polite decline.

He wasn’t averse to becoming an enforcer; in truth, his heroic spirit Sul had always desired it but had been suppressed.

“No choice. Even if I wanted to join the authorities, the dock district police station is hopeless for prospects...”

Sul was an oathbound paladin of judgment, a special advancement under the god of law. His abilities depended on being an enforcer, and wearing that mantle would likely boost his individual power.

But the female officer’s police station in the dock area was clearly a terrible starting point.

Lian also had to consider his life after the heroic spirit card expired.

This world had feudal nobles and kings, divine churches and their armed forces, and extremely powerful great nobles and multinational organizations.

That meant “Aetherlin Kingdom’s enforcers” were something quite different from what an Earthling might imagine.

Often, they did not represent the “kingdom” or even “law enforcement.”

Their power and strength were determined by their backing, and the dock district’s police station was probably a nominal official organization.

Lian had inquired and learned that most officers were local-born commoners; evolved professionals were rare. That seemingly strong leopard woman was a local adventurer who had returned.

From a long-term perspective, the dock district police station was not a good choice.

As a seasoned civil servant, Lian understood the importance of starting points. No matter how strong you were in a remote suburb, making a breakthrough was tough. Idle posts in high provincial offices could lead to leadership roles, while village-level cadres might spend their entire careers stuck in local scheduling.

That was within a nationwide system recognizing administrative ranks, but this world’s organizations were fragmented.

In this world, pledging allegiance to a “public office” was effectively pledging allegiance to its master—becoming a private soldier of the new age.

Lian heard the dock district police chief was merely a titular baron with no real influence in the city.

“In a few days, I’ll check out the church district in the city center—maybe the knight orders are recruiting. Starting as a rookie staff member wouldn’t be bad...”

Sul was the paladin of the Blind Lady, the Scale was her holy emblem. Paladins were usually appointed for life. Lian could try to join an organization, but here lay a small problem.

“The god of law... is dead (trembling voice)!”

From Lian’s information channels, he didn’t even know when the Scale Lady had died. Sul’s memory fragments related to AD 317 (Storm Season), while the current year was HE 221 (Summer Fire Season)—the dates simply didn’t match.

Lian didn’t even know how the eras were calculated. Books on history and astronomy were outrageously expensive.

“Probably, the Scale Lady has been gone for hundreds of years.”

This was why Lian was seen as a “Classical Oathbound Paladin.” Locals thought he was genuinely like an ancient hero—able to reach such heights without divine power, relying only on his oath and self-discipline, was exceptional.

His strength was destined to decline, but borrowing the title of a former paladin and his literacy skills, it should be easy to find clerical work with devout churches.

“Step by step. Having a mid-level or higher organization is convenient for my growth.”

With the constraints of deity and oath, a paladin’s morality and identity were rarely questioned, a boon for Lian.

Obtaining extraordinary power and resources would be much easier from a relatively high starting position.

It wasn’t that Lian wanted to live a lazy life, but this was a world where the strong ruled... If he had any doubts before, the dwarf’s firearm pressed against his forehead upon entry said more than enough.

“To live as a ‘normal person,’ one must have the power to protect oneself.”

The fragmented information Lian had uncovered only confirmed the world’s brutal reality.

Top individuals wielded power rivaling nations, even capable of sending them to hell.

This kingdom had offended a “Great Red Dragon,” which destroyed the capital in a single strike, pushing the quasi-empire to the brink of collapse, from which it had yet to recover.

Fortunately, such beings were extraordinarily rare—even Sul’s fragmented memories contained no such monsters.

By local standards, it was less a dragon attack and more divine punishment.

The reality was that the “divine punishment theory” was widespread within the kingdom, severely undermining royal authority in recent years. No one could guarantee the Great Red Dragon wouldn’t return to vent its fury again.

This was also why Lian refused to join the local police; due to the disaster’s ripple effects, even the city’s lord had little say.

“After the Dragon Blood calamity, the kingdom fractured; at least three-quarters declared independence, becoming the current Pearl Seven Nations. Those who still profess loyalty to the crown did so only superficially. The royal family controlled only the ruined capital and the new capital.”

The Radiance City lord, an earl, was said to be a famous loyalist and conservative, but even within his city, he was not the most powerful.

The True God Church, the Explorers’ Association, the Physicians’ Association, and the Pharmacists’ Association—multinational organizations—carried more weight than this provincial noble.

Being a security officer under his command likely meant a lifetime in that role.

The kingdom had barely produced a second-generation hero, who was supposed to unite and inspire a struggle... but she suddenly vanished, triggering new waves of panic and despair.

“Second-generation hero Reina... more accurately, the seventeenth hero. The previous hero was so strong that all hopes were pinned on the new one. She was said to be no less gifted, once regarded as a beacon of the new era.”

Lian glanced at the silver longsword named “Courage” in his hand and sighed.

The sword was good but couldn’t be shown openly... Fortunately, the previous hero of this nation was so famous that many warriors in the streets carried various versions of the “Hero’s Sword.”

“In the long run, these two ticking bombs must be handled.”

One was the Evil God waiting to break free in two years—deadly yet not urgent, as Lian currently had no capacity to manage it.

Even if he wanted to “report” it, there was no one to report to, nor way to explain the information.

Seal off and investigate underground ruins? That would cripple the economy with a single word.

“Focus on developing myself first. If I can save them later, I will. If not, I’ll run.”

The second bomb was the “Untamed Slave” from his books—Hero Reina.

This was clearly a big pitfall, but Lian had no choice. If the mastermind behind the entire crossing and everything was some great power, they were probably at least god-level.

“Trying to break her chains and send her away is impossible...”

Lian would keep his distance from the hero for his own safety, but the recently awakened “Sul” would never allow an innocent victim to remain shackled!

That day, Sul had rushed in without hesitation to personally try to break the hero’s bonds... but to no avail. Even in possession state, Sul couldn’t open the strange metal prison.

Yet it wasn’t fruitless. When Sul attempted to communicate with the hero, he confirmed one more thing.

“... This hero is probably already insane.”

Approaching her only elicited murmurs of “Death,” with no normal response to Sul’s kindness.

Lian sighed, hoping the hero wouldn’t die within his story... She was already a mythical being, seemingly unable to starve short-term, but life couldn’t be endured forever bound like this. Death would come eventually.

“It’s three in the afternoon. Time for the shift.”

Lian, though jobless, still found himself a position.

The cost of gaining extraordinary power was beyond his current means, and with the heroic spirit card’s time running out, his primary goal was to make full use of it.

“Continue fighting evil in the dock district. At least I can earn a bit...”

Despite its terrible security rating, the dock district had its benefits.