It was impossible for Hen, who was older and more knowledgeable, not to have studied it.
However, he himself had never tried to seek healing from the temple for his heart condition, perhaps Hen had his own concerns about this.
"The temple? I understand, thank you, teacher."
Karl repeated in a low voice, committing the place to memory.
He hadn't expected that he would still have to go to the temple after all this, as he had intended to visit Erlend later.
Temporarily bidding farewell to Hen, Karl did not linger at the academy. He needed to go home, back to Badov.
Karl found a spot, concentrated on guiding the solar energy within his body, and a portal instantly formed.
He stepped through, the spatial transition bringing a momentary sense of weightlessness.
The next moment, he stood on the road of the small village he once lived in, on the edge of the Badov territory.
As soon as his feet touched the damp earth, a familiar and strong scent assailed him.
Mixed with the body odor of livestock and the complex aroma of fermented manure, this was perhaps the typical smell of a village.
But for Karl, whose senses were now far sharper than those of an ordinary person, it was akin to torture.
Karl almost instinctively adjusted his olfactory senses, significantly reducing the intensity of the received scent signals, thus avoiding being nauseated on the spot.
He walked along the dirt road from his memory, and the villages he once lived in on both sides of the road came into view.
Low thatched huts, crooked wooden fences, puddles in the mud — everything was much the same as when he had left.
Time seemed to flow exceptionally slowly here; poverty and dilapidation remained the prevailing theme.
Some villagers working outside or passing by happened to see Karl.
They first showed surprise, clearly recognizing the young man once famous for hunting in the village.
But then, their expressions all changed to a mix of awe, distance, and even fear.
They either immediately turned their heads, pretending to focus on their work, or quickly lowered their heads, not daring to meet his gaze.
Some even scurried back into their low huts like startled rabbits.
With a "bang!" the flimsy wooden door was shut.
From beginning to end, no one dared to step forward and greet him warmly with "Karl is back," as they used to.
Karl watched this scene, a complex emotion welling up in his heart, finally turning into a silent sigh.
He understood the reason for this situation; he was no longer the commoner who made a living by hunting.
Now he was the Martial Arts Tournament champion, an ennobled knight, and the heir to this land.
He was now a bona fide member of the nobility, an exalted existence in the eyes of the villagers.
And the fear of nobles among commoners was ingrained in their very bones—
The villagers feared that any subtle movement, an unintentional glance, could anger him and bring about unbearable punishment.
Just as Karl was sighing inwardly and preparing to quicken his pace through the village towards Raymond's fortress,
The door of a somewhat tidier wooden house nearby creaked open.
A scrawny middle-aged man, carrying a hoe, walked out with his head down.
He vaguely called back into the house, "I'm going to the fields, see if I can dig up more things—" as he prepared to close the door.
But when he turned his head and his gaze inadvertently swept past the wooden fence, it met Karl's eyes.
The man froze, his face instantly showing the surprise of seeing someone familiar.
His lips were slightly parted, as if a warm greeting was about to escape.
But the next moment, it was as if something had clutched his throat, and the expression on his face changed dramatically.
The surprise faded, replaced by awkwardness, unease, and even a hint of panic.
His hoe-carrying shoulder twitched unnaturally, and he slowly pulled the door fully open, standing in the doorway,
looking somewhat at a loss.
"—Karl," he paused, seemingly feeling the address was inappropriate.
He quickly added, "—Lord Karl, you—you're back. Are you looking for me for something?"
Karl recognized him: Dales, who used to process the game he and Jack brought back when they hunted,
and ran a butcher shop in the village.
At that time, Dales, though not fat, was certainly not as gaunt as he was now, with sunken cheeks and deep-set eyes, looking like he had suffered from long-term malnutrition.
Karl showed a sincere smile, trying to ease the other's tension: "Dales, long time no see. You look like you're in some trouble—"
Dales's expression became even more complex upon hearing the familiar address.
He was silent for a moment, his rough hands unconsciously rubbing the wooden handle of the hoe, finally letting out a sigh.
His voice was weary: "N-nothing, it's just that without your hunting skills, my butcher shop really couldn't keep going."
He glanced into the house, lowering his voice with a touch of bitterness: "I still have three children to feed, I can't just watch them starve."
"No choice but to pick up this hoe again and try my luck in the fields, see if meritelli favors us and we can grow something to get by."
Dales's words made Karl suddenly start.
When he and Jack moved from the village to Raymond's fortress due to Raymond's sudden recognition and a series of subsequent events,
it had indeed been too hasty and abrupt. He had completely forgotten about his previous cooperation with Dales.
Without his steady supply of game, Dales had lost his most important livelihood.
The income from the butcher shop was far more generous and stable than farming in harsh conditions, and more importantly, there was often meat at home, so they wouldn't go hungry.
No wonder Dales had become so thin; the burden of life had clearly overwhelmed him.
A hint of embarrassment flashed across Karl's face, and he immediately made a decision.
"Put the hoe back, Dales. I happen to be going back to the manor to take care of some things. You come with me."
Dales was stunned at first, then quickly understood Karl's meaning.
A light of hope instantly burst forth in his dim eyes.
He hardly hesitated, quickly responding, "Good! Good! Thank you, Lord Karl!"
He deftly tossed the hoe from his shoulder back into the house with a "clatter," causing exclamations from a woman and children inside.
Before following Karl out the fence gate, Dales specifically called into the house: "Listen, I might not be back tonight. You figure things out yourself for now, and whatever you do, don't let the children go hungry!"
Walking on the road leading to the Erl Family manor, Dales's excitement gradually subsided, replaced by a hint of doubt.
He secretly observed Karl, who was walking ahead. This young man, now of noble status, was walking back? Without even a horse for transport?
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