"They are all children of the great Nobles; once they return, they can effortlessly have everything.
But your father is just a gardener! This is your only chance to change your fate!"
"Even if it means death, you must seize it!"
In the icy seawater, the drenched redhead boy struggled to move his limbs, swimming forward.
He didn’t leap off the ship on a whim; for this plan, he prepared for an entire week.
Bubbles, water, food to replenish his strength... He had it all tied to his body. He didn’t know how far he still was from the coast, nor did he know whether that Lord would stop for even a glance, he didn’t even know if what he was doing made any sense...
But indeed, this was his only chance.
He could only give it his all.
"Cough cough cough..."
Suddenly, the redhead boy Harry got choked by the seawater, breaking into a violent cough.
At that moment, a wave struck him, and Harry, caught off guard, got smacked into the water.
By the time he finally struggled and surfaced, disaster struck—all the supplies tied to him had fallen into the water.
At this moment, Harry felt a sense of despair.
However, just then, a white streak of light unexpectedly flew from afar and "whooshed," landing precisely in Harry’s hand.
Harry clutched at the object that had suddenly fallen into his grasp; as he touched the firm and cold object, information was already being conveyed into his mind.
It was the name of a place.
Harry looked puzzled, completely unaware of where this place was.
But in the next second, a passionate hope ignited in his gray eyes; continual power surged from within him.
"It’s from that Lord! That Lord saw me! He saw me!
He’s willing to give me a chance! Haha..."
Harry’s heart was filled with sudden euphoria.
He had seen the Golden Tendrils smashing the "Sun" in the sky, had seen the sea surface freeze over for tens of miles with a single gesture...
Those were the supreme glories he yearned to achieve!
He must become a Wizard, a powerful Wizard just like that Lord!
He shall survive, even if it means scouring every inch of the East Coast, he will find the place that Lord has pointed out to him—
Upon a yellow-green hill, two figures mounted on horses stopped.
One of them slowly pulled back the hood over their head, revealing a young and handsome face.
"Here... we’re not far from my home now..."
Ronan dismounted from the horse, crouched, and casually pulled a few strands of Wild Barley at his feet, roughly crushing the shriveled grains between his fingers.
"It’s time to harvest the Wild Barley again..."
Ronan whispered, standing up and gazing at the undulating plains in the distance.
One could see patches of cultivated land amid the forest-dotted terrain, with remnants of gold lingering on the soil.
Molli’er raised her hand slightly, magically drawing a few strands of the Wild Barley Ronan had just plucked, curiously chewing them, but quickly spat them out with a look of disgust.
"What is this stuff? Did you live on it every day before you became a Wizard?"
Ronan shook his head, "This is the food the Subjects eat, what I had was much better."
"My father is a very harsh Lord.
His Subjects often struggle to have a meal due to taxes, relying only on this kind of nutrient-poor Wild Barley to fill their stomachs..."
Ronan, with a calm expression, led the horse, and softly said: "We’ll be home soon..."
The words he spoke seemed not solely intended for Molli’er but also like... he was speaking to another "self" inside him.