As Mo’s footprints continued to spread across the land, a group of people who could loosely be called his followers gradually began to gather around him.
The reason was not difficult to understand.
This land, known as Terra, was filled with suffering.
Those who could live happy and peaceful lives were ultimately only a minority.
Far more people could only eke out an existence in the cracks of society, struggling to survive in a state of numbness.
Yet living beings would always seek a way forward.
When a powerful individual appeared in someone’s bleak life—someone strong enough to protect them, yet willing to accept them—there would always be people willing to stand at that person’s side, resist oppression, and fight for a better future.
Rather than viewing this as a primitive impulse born from worshipping the strong, Mo preferred to interpret it as the courage of life itself—the instinct to strive toward something better.
Mo greatly appreciated such people.
Of course, that was provided they harbored no malicious intentions.
After careful consideration, Mo decided to conduct a social experiment.
He would establish an organization similar to the Reunion Movement in Leithanien, unite every force that could be united, participate in post-war relief and reconstruction, and attempt to give the lower classes a chance to prove their worth through their own contributions.
Let the ruling class see the power of the people.
In Leithanien, it was extremely difficult to establish oneself in society without being able to use Originium Arts.
It was much like having a university degree in the modern world.
Those capable of using Originium Arts possessed a kind of academic qualification—a stepping stone that allowed them to establish themselves in society.
Those who could not use Originium Arts could only struggle to find employment, much like a university student who had never graduated.
However, within Leithanien’s social environment, there were two groups whose circumstances were even worse:
The Infected and the coarse warriors.
Of course, these warriors were not the fasting type.
Leithanien’s attitude toward the Infected was relatively tolerant.
But since it was only relatively tolerant, there naturally had to be something to compare it with.
So, what was the attitude of the various nations of Terra toward the Infected?
Did anyone even need to ask?
Once discovered, they were usually told to go die somewhere far away.
Under such circumstances, it was only natural that the Infected lived miserable lives.
The living conditions of warriors were slightly better than those of the Infected, but only slightly.
Again, before reaching any conclusion, one had to look at the frame of reference.
In a traditional and elegant land of arts like Leithanien, a group of vulgar warriors was naturally an object of contempt. This chapter was taken from g.com without permission.
Living beneath society’s scorn without even possessing the means to fight back, enduring years of cold violence and discrimination, was an enormous burden.
Then Mo appeared.
He beat up a group of those high-and-mighty casters and offered the warriors considerable assistance.
Naturally, the warriors hit it off with him almost immediately and readily chose to follow him.
Not only could they beat up those noble caster lords, but they could also satisfy their need for respect and self-actualization by putting their own skills to use.
They might even have the opportunity to learn a move or two from Mo.
Compared to being constantly looked down upon, this was obviously a much better life for the warriors.
Mo did not dislike warriors who harbored no ill intentions toward him, so he tacitly allowed them to follow him.
From time to time, he even sparred with them.
As for those who harbored malicious intentions…
Unfortunately, all he could do was hope their selfless contributions would help the crops grow a little taller.
In the process, both sides benefited.
The techniques developed by the Leithanien warriors for defeating casters opened Mo’s eyes, while Mo’s profound knowledge and experience also benefited the warriors greatly.
As time passed, these warriors gradually became the armed force supporting Mo’s activities in Leithanien, escorting and protecting ordinary people along the way.
A tall, dark figure wearing a hood passed through layers of towering buildings, crossed ancient streets, and walked along winding cobblestone roads amid the dispirited crowds before finally entering a tavern at the end of an alley.
The tavern itself was unremarkable, as though it had been gently coated in the dust of time.
A wooden sign swayed in the breeze, creaking softly, as if recounting stories left behind by the passing years.
The figure pushed open the slightly weathered wooden door.
A warm atmosphere mixed with the scents of wood smoke, ale, and stew immediately greeted him, making it easy to forget the cold and clamor of the outside world.
The tavern was softly lit.
Various artworks decorated the walls, along with a portrait of the Witch King whose eyes seemed to follow the movements of every guest.
Several round wooden tables were scattered throughout the room.
Candles burned quietly beneath glass covers, casting flickering light and shadows across the interior.
In one corner, an elderly caster whispered an ancient incantation.
Blue flames danced at the tip of his Arts Unit, attracting a small crowd of young casters.
Behind the bar, the owner, Tom, was busy polishing glasses.
His movements were practiced and composed, and every so often, he exchanged a few words with the regulars.
An indescribable atmosphere permeated the tavern, as though every stone and every piece of wood concealed some unknown secret.
Here, whether one was a traveler seeking adventure or an exhausted caster returning home, everyone could find a little peace and solace of their own. Follow the newest chapters on g.com.
Creak.
The dark figure pushed the wooden door shut and walked toward a quiet corner.
After observing the surroundings for a moment, he slowly removed his hood, revealing a fierce face.
It was none other than Mo.
After a brief silence, Mo looked toward the owner standing behind the bar.
That sudden gaze made Tom’s hair stand on end.
After thinking for a moment, however, Tom calmly turned around and placed a hand on the mechanism hidden beneath the bar.
His eyes quickly swept across the tavern before finally settling on the dark figure in the corner.
When he recognized Mo, Tom froze for a moment.
He then turned around, picked up a glass of liquor, casually mixed the drink, and hurried toward Mo with the glass in hand, barely able to contain his excitement.
“Hello. This is your ‘Dawn of Birth.’ How many spoonfuls of sugar would you like?”
Tom’s voice trembled with excitement.
“Thank you, ‘Evening Intent of the Setting Sun.’ Please add three spoonfuls of sugar.”
Mo maintained a straight face and answered seriously.
Heh.
This really is a pretty good code phrase, isn’t it?
After hearing Mo’s response, Tom became even more excited.
He quickly walked to the entrance, hung up the Closed sign, ushered the remaining customers out of the tavern, and locked the door.
Then he hurried back to Mo, his eyes shining with excitement.
“I knew you would definitely come back! We’ve been waiting here for so long. What are your plans this time? What do you need us to do?”
Looking at Tom, who was becoming increasingly excited, Mo felt a surge of helplessness.
He sighed.
“Stop. Don’t put it like that. You’re making us sound like some kind of rebel organization.”
Tom was one of the people Mo trusted most in Leithanien.
He was kind-hearted, intelligent, and highly capable.
With his assistance, Mo’s activities in Leithanien had become considerably easier.
“Go and gather everyone.”
Mo’s expression gradually became serious.
“It’s about time. The war is getting closer and closer.”