Wizard: Starting from the Skill Tree

He had no interest in meddling in this war, nor any obligation to help either side.

Spirit turned around and continued flying towards the southeast, the flames of Stone Crown City receding behind him, gradually turning into a small fiery red dot on the horizon.

...

A few days later, Spirit arrived at Grey Rock City.

This city belonged to Earl Marshall’s territory, adjacent to Count Cadwell’s domain, yet with markedly different customs.

Stone Crown City was built against the mountains, its architectural style rugged and solid, while Grey Rock City sat on a broad plain at the edge of the Iron Jaws Mountain Range, with buildings constructed from a locally distinct grey-white granite, exuding a subdued yet steady luster under the afternoon sun.

Although the city walls weren’t as towering as those in Stone Crown City, they were thicker, with denser parapets, and strategically placed arrow towers every so often with outlines of large crossbows faintly visible atop them, evidently emphasizing practical defense more than Stone Crown City did.

Guards at the city gate were checking the identity of each person entering the city.

When it was Spirit’s turn, he took out the Adventurer’s Guild badge and pinned it to his chest, meeting the guards’ gaze naturally.

The guard took the badge, glanced at it, and routinely asked: "Where are you coming from? What brings you to Grey Rock City?"

Spirit truthfully replied that he was an adventurer from over at Stone Crown City, where recent turmoil and unrest left adventurers with scarce job opportunities, prompting him to seek opportunities elsewhere.

The guard, evidently aware of the news from Stone Crown City, inquired no further, merely waved him in, muttering under his breath, "Another wave of refugees."

Spirit walked into the city along the main street behind the gate, contemplating the clues about the key in his mind.

The Wizard Council, upon publishing the Rules for the Path of Divine Revelation, only mentioned that each layer held keys to the next, but never detailed the keys’ specific forms, leaving one to explore on their own.

Even the Divine Revelation Mark offered no hints; points would increase or decrease based solely on the outcome, regardless of the process.

He needed to quickly find a definite target.

Spirit stayed in Grey Rock City for several days, conducting activities under his guise as an adventurer, spending hours at the long table in the Adventurer’s Guild during the day, sifting through quest sheets pinned on the wooden boards, occasionally taking on simple tasks like demon extermination or escorting merchant caravans to maintain the legitimacy of his identity.

At night, he returned to his rented small inn, organizing the scattered intelligence collected during the day under the flickering oil lamp.

The Adventurer’s Guild in Grey Rock City was livelier than the one in Stone Crown City, with adventurers from all over the Osseron Kingdom gathering here, bringing news from all directions.

Spirit soon became familiar with a few regular faces in the guild hall: a middle-aged hunter often found napping in the corner, a short trap master whose fingers were perpetually stained with grease, and a loud man who couldn’t drink without regaling those nearby with tales of hunting Riftback Beasts in the northern wilderness.

Within a few days, he was accepted into an adventuring team.

This team originally comprised only four individuals, lacking a strong frontliner. Spirit had helped during a guild assignment by taking down a frenzied, injured Level 2 Stone Armor Rhinoceros, cleanly and efficiently, leaving other adventurers who had been observing in awe.

The team’s leader was Grayson, a forty-something one-eyed swordsman, reserved but loyal, who, after that task, invited Spirit for a mug of ale and asked if he’d be interested in joining the team.

Spirit, needing a less conspicuous identity to cover his activities in the city, readily agreed.

A few evenings later, while Spirit and Grayson were studying patrol routes on a commission map for the northern wilderness, Grayson suddenly put down his mug and, lowering his voice, said, "There’s a big job tomorrow, Earl Marshall’s seeking powerful adventurers, with reportedly lucrative pay—just the deposit alone matches our usual three-month earnings. I’ve registered you; we’ll head there together tomorrow morning. It’s said the Earl will personally meet each selected adventurer, quite a setup—seems like there’s something significant afoot."

Spirit kept a neutral expression, yet his mind was slightly piqued.

Having scouted clues about the key around Grey Rock City without finding a breakthrough, this did seem to offer a direction.

Earl Marshall was the lord of this land, if there were any secrets here, he’d be more aware than anyone else.

He took a sip of ale, calmly remarking, "Then let’s go have a look."

Next morning, Spirit followed Grayson’s team through Grey Rock City’s central wide stone-paved main street, arriving at Earl Marshall’s Mansion.

Built atop a low hill within the city, the mansion comprised large blocks of grey-white granite, rectangular and composed, devoid of Count Cadwell’s mansion’s ostentatious carvings and emblems, yet the columns outside were densely scarred from battles, and the formidable defensive bastions at the corners silently attested to the lord’s true combat experience.

After guards checked their Adventurer’s Badges and registered them, they were directed through the main gates.

Grayson, evidently accustomed to such occasions, adeptly led Spirit across the courtyard, through corridors, making several turns, arriving at a spacious hall.

Inside, dozens of adventurers—men and women—stood armed, emanating varying degrees of energy waves.

After settling in, Spirit’s gaze fell on the high-backed chair at the hall’s forefront, occupied by a fifty-something middle-aged man, large and burly, with broad shoulders—exuding unyielding authority even seated.

His hair was closely shorn, temples grizzled; his face had two intersecting old scars—one slashing diagonally from the forehead to the brow, the other traversing cheekbone to jaw—twitching slightly as he spoke, lending his already rugged visage an even more intimidating look.

Sweeping his gaze over the adventurers, he spoke, his voice coarse yet steady, echoing slightly in the enclosed hall: "I am Earl Marshall; standing here means you are at least superior to those worthless outside. I need capable people to get things done promptly—reward will not be lacking."

After the Earl finished, the hall fell silent for a few breaths.

Adventurers exchanged glances, some eager, others hesitant.

Just then, amid the quiet, came the sound of heavy footsteps; a towering man strode from the crowd into the central space.

He stood at least a head taller than everyone present, shoulders wide like a city gate, bare arms corded with muscle, crisscrossed with numerous scars of varying depths.

Slung across his back was an almost person-tall two-handed heavy sword, its blade faintly glimmering with a deep red hue, a mark of long immersion in certain demon blood.

Spirit swept him with Spiritual Power, assessing his strength—Level 2 First Tier, his energy circulation mimicked Lloyd’s, integrating energy directly into the physique via the local cultivation method, yet this man surpassed Lloyd in both energy intensity and physical refinement.

In the Osseron Kingdom’s adventurer circles, Level 2 stood among the elite; most adventurers never approached Level 2 in their lifetimes.

The surrounding adventurers evidently recognized this man’s reputation.

Once the burly man stepped forward, those initially inclined to stand out quickly withdrew, with several even instinctively stepping back a half-step.

Grayson leaned to Spirit’s ear, speaking in a subdued tone: "That’s Baron, the top tough guy of Grey Rock City’s Adventurer’s Guild. Rumor has it last year he soloed a Level 2 Stone Armor Rhinoceros—best avoid him."