Wizard: Starting from the Skill Tree

Apple wood burned in the fireplace, occasionally emitting a slight crackling sound, as the air was filled with the distinctive sweet scent of wood burning.

The tableware was the most simple type, without gold or silver inlays, just a few sets of polished silver knives, forks, and white porcelain plates, each edged with the Hardy family’s antler crest.

Duke Hardy sat at the head of the long table. When the Duke first entered, he saw him and sighed in relief. During his last visit, the old man’s hair was already white, and he was weak and breathless. The chronic ailment from old injuries made him cough ceaselessly, each breath resembling an old bellows about to fall apart.

At that time, the old Earl needed assistance to get out of bed, and the Duke along with Vivian had gone to great lengths to gather life-extending resources and therapeutic potions from various sources to barely take his life back from the hands of death.

Now, the old man sitting in the main seat, although his hair was still snow-white, appeared much more flushed than before. His previously hollow eyes were slightly filled again, and the once-clouded, aging eyes now glimmered.

He no longer needed to wear heavy fur cloaks to resist the cold of old injuries but had changed into a light deep blue, belted coat, with golden lines embroidered on the sleeves, bearing the duke’s crest.

More surprisingly to the Duke, he could clearly sense that this old man already emitted a faint, extremely weak magical wave.

Although not a solid wave like a Level 1 Official Wizard, one could feel it was in the foundational apprentice stage, weak yet truly existent.

The old Duke noticed the Duke’s gaze lingering on him and waved with a smile. His voice, though still hoarse, was much louder than years ago: "Don’t look at me like that, Vivian insisted I learn some Meditation Technique, saying it could add a few years to my life. Starting to learn these things young people do when half in the grave, memorizing those Meditation Techniques nearly makes my head explode.

But truth be told, after learning it, the places of old injuries hurt less than before and I sleep much better. As for becoming an Official Wizard, at my age, I don’t think about it much. Living a few more years, watching Rein manage the territory well, watching you and Vivian make your names outside, I’d be content."

The Duke knew Duke Hardy was just saying that, but he likely wanted to become a wizard more than anyone.

Having learned the Meditation Technique now, even if hard to become a Level 1 Mage, this wish is fulfilled.

The Duke sat across from him, eyes scanning the old Duke’s hands on the table. His fingers were no longer as thin and withered as years ago.

He nodded, saying sincerely, "You indeed look much better than last time. Meditation Technique requires perseverance; for your age, entry is already quite remarkable."

Rein sat to the old Duke’s left, slicing a piece of roast beef onto his plate.

He wore a deep gray earl’s suit, tailored to fit, with the Acosta Clan’s silver deer antler insignia pinned at the collar. The always slightly frivolous smile on his face was now replaced by calm and competence. Several fine lines appeared in his eyes shaped by repeated honing in battlefields and public affairs.

His shoulders had broadened more than years ago; muscles on his arms formed clear angles in his suit sleeves, remnants from high-intensity knight training.

Upon hearing the old Duke’s words, he set down his knife and fork, gazing at the Duke. His tone, steady and candid: "Since Father started practicing the Meditation Technique, his appetite is much better than before, and his temper has also improved."

The Duke’s gaze fell on Rein, clearly perceiving the fighting spirit within him already condensed to its brink.

That marked the peak of a Great Knight, just a step away from becoming a First-level Knight.

And the Breathing Technique he cultivated was evidently not one of those crude versions native to the Florence Continent, but the High-tier Breathing Technique brought back by Vivian from the Knight Hall, with every wisp of fighting spirit exuding purity and refinement.

This once pleasure-seeking spoiled child had now taken on all the major and minor affairs of the Duchy of Hardy, shouldering them steadily.

Sitting opposite Rein was his wife, a young woman from a small noble family in the Vera Kingdom, gentle and quiet, holding a babbling baby girl.

That was Rein’s daughter, the new generation of the Acosta Clan.

The little girl had blond hair like her aunt’s. Although she couldn’t yet speak, her blue eyes already showed a cleverness; seeing the Duke, she didn’t shy away but instead waved her chubby little hands toward him, babbling.

Rein’s wife gently pushed her daughter’s hands back, apologetically smiling at the Duke.

Vivian sat beside the Duke and hadn’t taken her eyes off him since he entered.

She wasn’t wearing the white-gold Wizard’s Robe she often donned in Thorn Holy Tower, but a light blue belted long dress paired with a light leather short jacket, which she wore only upon returning to the Florence Continent.

Her golden long hair wasn’t tied into the neat bun she usually wore but was casually draped over her shoulders, with strands falling beside her ears, occasionally tucked back by her hand.

Yet, what truly surprised the Duke was her change in aura.

She was originally recognized as the epitome of beauty in the Jade Province, with flawless features and fair skin unmatched even in her youth; however, the woman sitting in the candlelight was no longer the stubborn yet innocent girl he once carried on his back while escaping in the Moonlight Forest.

The ancient Wind Elf’s bloodline left marks on her beyond mere strength enhancement; her skin remained pearly white like the depths of the sea, but upon closer inspection, one could faintly see a thin layer of azure glow circulating under her skin, akin to ripples on water touched by a breeze.

Her blond hair shimmered with a slight azure hue under the candlelight, swaying gently with her movements. The glow wasn’t dyed but emanated from within each strand, as if the essence of a Wind Elf was fused into each hair.

A faint azure glow surrounded Vivian’s eyes; it’s so subtle—a person could only capture it by staring intently.

Her aura was now more ethereal and floating than before; merely sitting quietly in the chair created an impression she might transform into a breeze and vanish into thin air at any moment.

That was a phenomenon characteristic of atavism, manifesting when bloodline integration reaches a certain depth.

"What are you looking at?" Vivian, feeling somewhat uneasy under his gaze, turned her head slightly, her lips curving gently, with the azure halo flickering with her glance.

"Looking at the Wind Elf bloodline flowing within you." The Duke laughed, reaching out to touch the azure halo by her eyes so quickly and lightly it was hard to see.

Vivian reflexively flinched back, covering that eye with one hand and glaring at him, her ear already a shade of red. Yet the azure glow brightened slightly at her ear as if the bloodline itself was embarrassed.

She lowered her hand, her gaze resting on the Duke’s face for a few seconds, softly asking, "How long will you stay this time?"

"Depending on circumstances. Returning this time, apart from visiting you, I also have matters to discuss. Regarding Plane Promotion, you should have received notification from Thorn Holy Tower."

Vivian nodded, her smile gradually fading, her expression serious: "Yes, we have received it; Thorn Holy Tower has already hosted several internal meetings. Master Grace mentioned that Thorn Holy Tower needed coordination from Black Sail and Six-Ring Tower for the defense magic array setup on Florence Continent; relying solely on Thorn Holy Tower is insufficient. Reach out to her when you have time, but we can discuss these matters tomorrow."

She picked up her knife and fork again, using the fork to point to the plate in front of the Duke: "Tonight, let’s focus on dinner first."