Chapter 82

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Chapter 82: A Question and A Wedding

The equipment for the Professional tests closely resembled the one being used in the Aryan Empire – with spies and cameras constantly exchanging information, anything not confidential would eventually leak to the other side. With the help of these testing instruments, Professionals sprouted up like mushrooms from every corner of Tasmania.

The Druid population verification was the most certain, as all apprentices had to pass the Heart of Nature test to clearly determine if they would advance to become full Druids. As for archers, other than the expert marksmen who had been hunting for years, most archers graduated from the Amazonian camp. A young man with a rare giant dragon lineage who joined the Dragon Cavalry when he came to Tasmarin could now advance from the Cavalry to becoming a Dragon Knight in just one test. Douglas felt no crisis over this, as he and his dragon were still inseparable, feeling proud of being among the first to join.

There was only one spot for the giant dragon, so the rest of the Dragon Knights could only ride on lesser dragons.

Among Saro’s followers, there were now official priests. They followed the rites taught by Samuel, living devout and simple lives. Tasha met ordinary people for the first time who could use divine spells with devotion, similar yet different from their ancestors. These people did not hate or rely on deities, and despite the Heavenly Realm being cut off, they were still doing well without knowing their abilities.

The registration process for Vagabonds was quite complicated. Most of them are habitual thieves and criminals who are always on the move, avoiding authorities and difficult to find. While a few thieves and assassins were discovered in the prison, the most skilled (and lucky) Vagabonds were still out in the wild. These outlaws engaged in illegal activities, never willing to be caught. A hunter may transform into an exceptional archer in daily life, but what good deeds must one do to master stealth, knockouts, theft, and backstabbing? Only a fool would admit to being a Vagabond.

In the end, under the guidance of the former underworld boss turned famous security company owner Spike, a separate Thieves’ Guild was established. Here, professionals in the gray area gathered, using only code names and numbers, free from official control.

There were five highly skilled Vagabonds capable of stealth, which amazed Tasha and made her understand why the Empire had shut down the Adventurer’s Guild. While legends exist in stories, reality is different. To build a harmonious society, it’s better to have fewer individuals skirting the law. After all, no one wants to lose their wallet every day or be robbed by bandits. Nobody wants to be silently attacked either. In a stable society with growing commerce and wealth, there’s no need for a Robin Hood stealing from the rich to aid the poor.

Tasha would find the best solution to deal with these people’s presence.

Among those who have a natural affinity but lack formal Druid training, the Ranger profession is common. Forest rangers, trackers, hunters, and retired soldiers receive nature’s feedback through their close connection with the natural world. These professions, without formal education, vary in expertise. The first Ranger, Jacob, tried to organize them for mutual learning and exchange.

Jacob could teach them a lot, but most adults also had their own skills, so they learned from each other and didn’t need formal apprenticeships. Without a dedicated school for Rangers, this mutual aid organization was more aptly named the "Ranger Exchange Association." From young lads to old men, Rangers gathered, enjoying their shared love for nature and freedom, making their outdoor meetings, which included practicing their skills in nature, feel like a picnic.

The appearance of a minstrel was a pleasant surprise; Tasha had thought this semi-magical profession had high entry requirements.

To test a minstrel, they had to sing or play an instrument, which many music lovers found enjoyable. The line in the square to become a minstrel was always long. Ribe Lake, where artists gathered, discovered many singers and musicians who became minstrels. Among these discovered musicians, some had been famous for years, while others still lived in run-down alleys.

"I knew it!" exclaimed a poor musician named Edison (Tasha couldn’t help but take a closer look at his name), as he put down his violin and wept in front of the green instrument. "I knew I was born for music!"

The people standing next to him shivered together. They lined up to wait for the test, their faces turning pale. Some of them looked like they needed instant heart medicine. The onlookers had already scattered, leaving only the staff still smiling, discreetly taking out earplugs from their ears.

Many aspiring musicians hurried from all directions to take the test, hoping the testing device would confirm their musical talent. However, this was not accurate. Being a minstrel did not necessarily mean having exceptional musical skills.

Most unsuccessful musicians’ live performances fully demonstrated the positive aspects of public appreciation levels. It made sense why they were not popular. These songs, with despairing off-key notes and broken sounds, made the audience’s heart race, head spin, and almost made them gag if they listened a bit longer. What used to be considered unbelievably bad music, surprisingly showed a slight extraordinary power after the test, belonging to minstrel skills.

Attack skills, obviously, what else could it be.

Is it because their performance is so bad that it has an aggressive effect, or do they possess minstrel talents so they cannot perform ordinary music? The future can be foreseen – those clumsy musicians who celebrate being minstrels need to be psychologically prepared. They probably won’t be able to perform or sing music that makes ordinary people applaud for the rest of their lives.

No new wizards have appeared, one must study extensively to become a wizard in today’s Aryan. It requires a lot of luck and experience. Training a wizard takes a long time. Except for those who were exposed as wizards when they refused the contract right after joining, there were no more newcomers. Hayden, the white robe wizard, was inspired by this and started looking for qualified magic apprentices among young children.

"You should have done this a long time ago," Victor said. "There’s never enough wizards around, the earlier you train them, the better."

Look at his regretful tone, as if he didn’t just remember suddenly today.

Tasha couldn’t be bothered with him. To establish Wizard Academy, they first needed teachers willing to teach. At a time of shortage of spellcasters, all the wizards were extremely busy, each with a lot to do, with no spare time to take apprentices.

The Wizard Association is like a research institute where white robe wizards work on projects with druids, priests, and craftsman dwarves to study the similarities in spells, and how to use spells in magical technology. The Undead Sorcerer spends his days playing with bones in the graveyard. When Tasha last saw the Headless Horseman, he had a new outfit made of different bones. If the Undead Sorcerer lady accidentally breaks him and can’t put him back together, Tasha insists she must compensate. The projects of the black robe wizards are very dangerous and they have strict temperaments. They are not suitable for children. Even the seemingly kind elder Webster has caused injuries and deaths. "What can I do if they touch my books?" he innocently and regretfully says. "Even the silliest person should know that wizard books are off-limits."

Real wizards, especially those in black robes, have bad tempers. Tasha thinks it’s no wonder black robe wizards have higher combat skills. Those black robe wizards who don’t meet the standards probably got killed during their training.

Among these professionals, Paladins are the least represented, with none at all. As the Templars become Paladins, their faith shifts from gods to loyalty towards people, just like the old knight who fought Tasha to his death. People with this kind of heritage won’t join dungeons that are enemies with others. Among the professionals that both sides possess, this is probably the most dominant type of profession in the empire.

Currently, the most common profession undoubtedly is the warrior.

The Tasmanian army also participated in the tests, even though they initially did it as a formality. Among these soldiers who were just going through the motions, a lot of warriors showed up.

The army has always been the most important to Tasha. Right from the start, she had control over the army, selecting usable professionals. At least, when they came under Tasha’s command, there weren’t as many warriors as there are now, let alone niche branches like berserkers.

It seems like we’re back to the beginning.

What’s the difference between an ordinary warrior and a professional warrior? The latter has extraordinary strength that the former doesn’t possess, but where does this extraordinary strength come from?

Is it about lineage? But as the most basic, common, and convenient profession, warriors don’t need lineage. Everything a veteran soldier learns is enough to make them a warrior. Victor once wondered why Captain Halite didn’t have a professional level, which suggests that soldiers of his caliber already possess warrior abilities. Is it because they haven’t killed monsters? But if that were the case, Aryan shouldn’t have any professionals now, nor when Tasha first came, or after.

Warriors have always existed, but they have gone from being extremely rare to quite numerous.

Perhaps lacking sufficient theoretical basis, but according to Tasha’s current observations, the most distinct variable in the control group is likely the "environment."

Specifically, a magic environment.

Fairy Lamps have already been able to grow in most parts of Tasmania.

It wasn’t the result of any special activities, but a gradual change day by day. It seemed that when noticed, they had already expanded a little into places where they could not grow before. When did the first green shoot grow into a whole spring? You can’t say, everything just happened naturally, silently, and unstoppably.

Half a year ago, a witch discovered Mandrake Grass in the Angaso Forest. This plant has humanoid roots, and when mature, it can produce hallucinogenic potions. When pulled out, it would scream–a typical magical plant. The discovery led to a gathering of witches who discussed it for half a day, unable to confirm if it was indeed Mandrake Grass – it had been missing for many years, and the Shadow Witch had a poor memory. Finally, someone came up with an idea: just let the Flame Witch burn it. At least at that moment, it seemed like a good idea.

Abigail lit a small flame, the plant caught fire, uprooted itself, screamed, ran over ten meters before falling. The witches fell to the ground, grateful for their own resistance and the fact that the Mandrake Grass had not matured, so that not all the witches in the world died at once.

Mandrake Grass was not the only magical plant nearby; there were many other discoveries as well. The witches found lost magical herbs in the Angaso Forest, thinking it was just a good spot; while the Druid Pharmacists who reshaped the Angaso Forest believed it was due to different knowledge systems, allowing the witches to find treasures they had not found. Later, Mavis’s dessert opened the mouths of the witches, leading to the half-elf who had good relations with both Druids and witches discovering the blind spots of both sides. She left the Medicinal Herb Garden and ventured back into the Angaso Forest, where in this newly born forest, she saw plants that had long disappeared.

Those inexplicably disappeared magical plants reappeared mysteriously in Tasmania.

Not only plants were significantly affected.

The oldest witch celebrated her thirty-second birthday, having outlived the age at which the previous Shadow Witch had died. The witches’ weakness and death had been going on for a long time, maybe that’s why they lived recklessly and passionately – to put it bluntly, they knew they were short-lived, so they embraced danger. When the time came and they didn’t die, they were rather shocked and some were at a loss.

Tasha took this matter very seriously, she was like a giant panda keeper when it came to the witches’ feelings, as soon as a case of longevity was discovered, she mobilized all the experts. Scholars and spellcasters were gathered here, including the Dark Robed Wizard Miranda, who was the most suitable researcher in this field among the wizards. This wizard was also quite interested in the witches’ ecology, but studying meant having to live with a group of witches, which was not ideal.

"What I’m asking you is," Miranda repeated with a tone as if speaking to a child with intellectual disabilities, holding back her anger, "the difference between you and your sister who died of weakness two years ago."

"Yeah, I told you," the oldest witch Ophelia held up her freshly painted nails to the light, blew on them, "I am a fire sign, my sister is a water sign."

"Are you an Astrologer Witch?" Miranda said through gritted teeth.

Among the witches, there is a branch called the "Astrologer Witch," whose talent lies in astrology. If Ophelia is an Astrologer Witch, although it sounds far-fetched, her explanation is not particularly hard to accept. But Miranda remembered…

"No," Ophelia finally turned her gaze towards the wizard, "I am an ‘Echo Witch’, didn’t I tell you that before? Huh, and you’re supposedly a wizard known for your intelligence."

Miranda snapped the pen in her hand.

Ophelia is known as the "Echo Witch," but her powers actually have little to do with sound. This gifted witch can summon various magical creatures and control them for a certain time. Legends say that powerful Echo Witches can even command demons from the abyss, but now, with magical creatures disappearing, she can only summon a gentle breeze.

In short, the constellations she talks about… are just constellations.

Research on the lifespan of witches is progressing slowly, as explosions and cries from apprentices in the room are frequently heard ("Teacher! Stop, teacher! You can’t kill your colleague!"), the reasons behind this are understandable.

Tasha felt puzzled.

Previous scholars have researched that every spell cast by a spellcaster consumes Aryan’s magic power, which can be somewhat verified. The dungeon has training rooms for wizards to practice magic. When wizards cast spells intensively in this area, Tasha, as part of the dungeon itself, can feel the actual magic consumption. Regardless of whether they wear black robes or white robes, focus on necromancy spells as an Undead Sorcerer or study a variety of spells like a Wild Wizard, when they use magic, the dispersed magic in the area is concentrated and consumed in their spells.

Wizards are like the artillery among spellcasters. Other spellcasters also consume magic when using spells, although it might not be as obvious as with wizards. If we consider expanding the scope of "spell," do magic arrows from archers count as spells? Or do hypnotic songs from minstrels count as spells? Extraordinary powers themselves seem to have a close relationship with magic.

In that case, the Tasmanian with many spellcasters should have become poorer compared to the empire, or at least, they should be similar.

In reality, Tasmarin is abundant in magic power and has more professionals than the empire.

Tasha can grasp some clues but cannot connect them. Fortunately, she is not alone now. Wizards and scholars are very curious and do not need urging; they will try their best to find answers.

Of course, this is not a task that can be completed in just a day or two.

In the spring of the seventh year, at Ribe Lake, the Southeast Chamber of Commerce organized a grand collective wedding.

After various conflicts, collisions, and mergers, the people of Tasmanian have become accustomed to various neighbors, giving rise to many heartwarming stories. The number of marriages between new and old residents reached a peak last year. The city council proposed, and the Southeast Chamber of Commerce actively responded. After six months of preparation, the collective wedding that covered the entire Tasmanian was successfully held.

Over three hundred couples arrived hand in hand, having met and married amid the turmoil of Tasmanian. New residents and natives, inheritors of the Aryan mainstream civilization and descendants of ethnic minorities, visibly different people, all walked into the realm of marriage together.

This event held different meanings for different people, but at the time of its occurrence, for the parties involved, it was just a romantic and festive wedding.

The largest church at Ribe Lake was open to the public. It was a temple of Saro hundreds of years ago but had gradually been forgotten on the city’s outskirts and recently refurbished by believers, becoming a preaching hall for the new Saroism. The Southeast Chamber of Commerce invested heavily, decorating the church gorgeously yet comfortably. The Walke Artist Association found this wedding aligned well with its mission and voluntarily participated. In the early months, painters reworked the murals on the grand church’s dome. The long corridor was considered a new art exhibition venue, with portraits and statues placed here. On the wedding day, bands and choirs took turns singing.

Tasha gazed at the beautifully arranged venue, thoughts of the Renaissance coming to her mind. Here, religious and secular elements harmoniously merged, exuding a humanistic aura.

The wedding was quite amusing.

The main ceremony adopted the traditional wedding form of the Aryan Empire, but all the couples could dress as they wished, whether in armor or animal skins—of course, they had to submit their requests beforehand, and the organizers would ensure that those in animal skins were seated a bit away from the Orc and Druid couples, out of basic courtesy. Priests, priestesses, chieftains, and government registrars stood on a high platform, officiating the weddings for couples from different regions. Their vows and rituals varied, but the smiles on their faces were consistent.

The wedding for three hundred couples and their families was held in a large church on the edge of the city. The nearby abandoned area was transformed into a semi-open park, big enough to accommodate everyone. The area was divided into many small sections to cater to everyone’s needs.

Couples who love wet environments were placed near the fountain, nature lovers were near the treehouses built by Druids, and city lovers sat on the smooth tiled area. Taller guests had tables without overhead beams, while shorter guests had custom-sized chairs and tables. Buffet tables were filled with a variety of food, both delicious-looking and not so appealing. Parts that some may find unappetizing were placed far away for guests to enjoy.

"Is that thing alive?" Letizia whispered from under her wedding veil.

"I remember it was listed as alive on the supply order," Alan replied, glancing back to see a groom sticking out a long tongue to grab something from his plate.

They both gasped and quickly looked away from the strange sight to admire their respective partners’ faces. Alan grabbed Letizia’s veil to prevent it from falling into the soup, complaining about its inconvenience.

"Why don’t you take off that silly hat?" Letizia asked.

They shared a sympathetic look and chuckled together.

In the Aryan Empire’s tradition, brides wore thick veils during weddings to hide their faces. Amazonian grooms wore large-brimmed hats to block others from seeing their wives, stemming from an older tradition that didn’t involve grooms and brides at all.

"It’s the last time, anyway," Alan shrugged with relief, raising his glass to Letizia happily, "From now on, I’m yours. My sister won’t be around to boss me anymore."

"My mom told me this morning that I should adapt to different situations." Letizia giggled, "I don’t think they will dare to bother us again."

When Letizia’s brother confidently demanded that she marry a rich old man for the sake of the family’s future, Letizia shot down his proposal without hesitation. The timid young girl was able to do what seemed impossible, as she had already proven her strength and leadership skills. Meanwhile, Alan’s sister, once again being overprotective, proudly displayed her brother’s income and his title as Vice President of the Southeast Chamber of Commerce. Despite being a small and fragile girl, she excelled in the field of finance, showing her capabilities as a leader.

They both laughed together, staring into each other’s faces with silly grins. Alan and Letizia had known each other for many years, supporting each other as underground comrades, as lovers, and as close friends. They could talk about anything, such as who would cook or wash the dishes in the future, whether they wanted children, and how they would share the responsibilities of raising them. Their gazes towards each other were always open and happy, never feeling embarrassed but always joyful, turning their new marriage into a golden one.

One of the few people who could rival this couple was the current President of the Southeast Chamber of Commerce, Anthony, who had retired and passed on his title to the former Vice President. Michelle greatly appreciated the idea of a collective wedding, surprising those around her, especially knowing her reputation for being very stingy. It wasn’t until she appeared with her husband, whom she had been married to for many years, that people familiar with her finally realized.

"I don’t care! I’m rich, so I can get married as many times as I want!" Michelle proudly declared to the cheering crowd, and then jokingly kissed Larry, who wore a terrified expression. "Why are you so worried? Just marry me already, silly!"

Michelle was wearing the latest style of wedding dress, sitting on a bench with Larry as a street artist from the Artists’ Association sketched their portrait. She beamed with joy, while Larry displayed a wide grin, his repaired gold tooth shimmering in the sunlight.

"Mom, when will it be over?" the young ring bearer asked in a weary tone, glancing frequently at the emcee sprinkling sugar not far away.

"Stop complaining! Others wish they could attend our parents’ wedding!" Michelle remarked bluntly through her smile that never faded.

As the wedding progressed towards the latter part, the organizers began regretting providing so much alcohol. The Craftsman Dwarf was passed out everywhere, resembling small dwarf statues in the garden that could easily be stepped on accidentally. The tipsy Amazonian and warriors were playing apple shooting games together, with no one stopping them and the onlooking doctors carrying healing potions, thankfully most of them refrained from drinking. The groom with long scales started swimming in the fountain as the giant bride with the profession of a berserker laughed heartily, casually breaking the table into three pieces. But when it came to going wild due to alcohol, none could match the fury of a witch.

Before the crowd got too chaotic, most wizards had already left, so the task of stopping the witches was left to the Iron Golem. The golem plunged the Flame Witch, who had set herself on fire, into a water basin. While others were putting out the fire, Tasha herself stepped in and knocked out the Evil Eye Witch, who was trying to make everyone kiss each other. She then locked up the troublemaking Shadow Witch back in a jar, who had not even been drinking! Turning around, she saw Ophelia laughing as she climbed to the top of the church. Tasha thought to herself that Echo Witch wouldn’t cause any trouble, so let her be.

"Pink-winged little angel, heed my call!" Ophelia, somewhat tipsy, raised her hand and shouted incomprehensible words that could make the wizards roll their eyes in the air, "Love god, come forth!"

A gust of wind swept through the venue, and translucent beings appeared in the sky, pink powder falling from their wings. The clueless newcomers began to cheer, thinking it was a wonderful illusion magic.

"Well, now you see," Victor muttered to himself, "this is what a normal fairy looks like."