Above The Sky
Chapter 67 - 67 64 Viscount Grant

67: Chapter 64 Viscount Grant 67: Chapter 64 Viscount Grant At the first opportunity, Ian’s gaze focused on Viscount Grant, who stood at the center of the study.

This noble, with deep brown hair, was fifty-eight years old this year but had smooth skin, bright eyes, and not a single wrinkle or sign of aging.

His pale blue eyes shimmered with ripples like those of water, a power of the “Abyssal Whale,” the Grant Family’s inherited Bloodline.

This allowed the Viscount to control the water within and around his body, not only delaying aging but also using it against enemies.

“You must be Ian,” he said.

Exchanging a glance with Elder Prude, the Viscount nodded slightly.

He was calm and looked at Ian with interest, then his eyes showed appreciation, “Not bad, a very handsome child.

Show me your Spirit Energy.”

Ian, without saying much, activated his Foresight View and a light aqua glow illuminated his eyes.

Noticing this, Viscount Grant’s expression flickered, “So soon?

You control it quite well.

Are you really awakened just a few days ago?”

Having been prepared for the face-to-face confrontation, he also felt a subtle sense of being probed and couldn’t help nodding, “Indeed, it’s observational Spirit Energy.

Quite impressive.”

As it wasn’t combat Spirit Energy, there wouldn’t be any threat to his authority due to the barrier in progress materials and inheritance; observational Spirit Energy Users couldn’t possibly threaten him.

On the other hand, observational Spirit Energy was every powerhouse’s favorite assistant; their warnings and guidance always greatly benefited a team.

“It’s a pity you’re too young to start training now,” he said.

Turning his head, Viscount Grant addressed Elder Prude, “I entrust the inheritance to you; you are responsible for choosing the timing of his instruction.”

He then looked at Ian and smiled, “Ian, don’t forget you are a citizen of the Empire.

If Elder Prude is unable to continue teaching you in the future, you can come to me for inquiry.”

With those words, he casually picked up a brass pocket watch that had obviously been prepared on the table in advance, “A small gift in celebration of Harrison Port’s first naturally Awakened Spirit Energy User.

In the future, you should contribute more to the Empire to reciprocate the nurturing and protection you’ve received.”

The brass pocket watch he handed over was inscribed with the crest of a behemoth, resembling a whale yet covered with sturdy scales and protruding crystals, adorned with colored quartz.

——Well, this is granting a favor to claim dominance.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ian noticed a strange expression on Elder Prude’s face and instantly understood what was going on.

All the rest was minor detail, emphasizing only the Empire’s neglect of the White Folks.

The most important point was that the Viscount had only shared the most initial steps of the training and kept the rest of the Inheritance tightly in his own hands.

Ordinarily, ordinary people had to wait until after puberty to start the Path of Sublimation, and they wouldn’t begin perfecting their Bloodline True Form until they reached at least twenty.

By then, if Ian wanted to further advance, he would have to seek out Viscount Grant…

At around twenty, Elder Prude would be aged, and as a young, strong Spirit Energy User, Ian would gradually become the new core of the White Folks in Harrison Port.

Unlike Elder Prude, however, he would have to cling closely to Viscount Grant to advance further on the Path of Sublimation and gain power.

In this way, in another decade or so, the White Folks of Harrison Port would become Viscount’s personal force.

This wasn’t necessarily good or bad; in the Empire, many people longed to be annexed and couldn’t even qualify.

The problem was that Ian noticed Elder Prude’s strange expression wasn’t out of helpless bitterness for being forced to accept the overt scheme but contained an unexpected hint of joy.

At first, Ian didn’t understand why this was so, but when he politely thanked the Viscount and reached out to take the brass pocket watch from him, the boy suddenly realized what was happening.

“Viscount Grant…

has he gifted the Inheritance to the White Folks?”

Surprised by this revelation, Ian had by now figured out the trade between the two old men, “The White Folks of Harrison Port are exiles, stripped of all their rights to the Inheritance, bereft of everything—Elder Prude is an exception, but even he cannot impart his own Bloodline Inheritance to other White Folks without the appropriate Bloodline.”

“But this time it’s different…

At the cost of my future dependency on the White Folks, Elder Prude has obtained an Inheritance belonging to their own again from Viscount Grant!”

“Even if it’s only the most rudimentary Inheritance, it’s still Sublimation, the root of extraordinary power!”

Viscount Grant had entrusted the Inheritance to Elder Prude, which theoretically could only be taught to Ian, but how could that be possible?

If there appeared an appropriate recipient, forget Prude; even Ian would attempt to have the other person learn it to increase the strength of their kin.

In this feudal and ancient era, there’s no point in discussing ideology; shared blood itself is the greatest cohesive force, even in a more advanced future.

Compared to the Inheritance, being dependent on a noble is not really a cost at all; it’s an advantage.

“Well, it looks like the White Folks got the better deal after all—Viscount Grant is actually quite generous!”

Having understood everything, Ian was very polite and obedient on the surface.

He pretended to be extremely grateful for the Viscount’s gift and lauded Viscount Grant’s majesty and ability, as well as the swift commands from the night before that prevented any disturbance when the panicked refugees entered the city.

Remembering the orderly state of the city upon his return, and the well-trained knights, he praised him half pretentiously, half sincerely.

——Indeed, the man had genuine substance.

“Haha, you exaggerate,” he said.

The heartfelt praise of an eight-year-old boy was quite pleasant for Viscount Grant to hear.

In fact, he had always considered himself quite capable and resourceful, but due to neglect from the Imperial Capital and political reasons, he had found no opportunity to demonstrate his worth.

Now, with an occasion to show his abilities and receiving flattery, he naturally felt invigorated in body and soul.

“Go ahead.”

With a quite satisfied nod, Viscount Grant registered Ian’s name on the ‘Harrison Port Legitimate Sublimators’ roster.

This list would soon be sent to the Capital of the Nanling Province and ultimately tallied in the Imperial Capital, constituting a significant part of the Empire’s strategic data.

From then on, Ian became an officially recorded legal Sublimator—though still young, once his cultivation bore fruit in the future, he would receive preferential treatment across various regions, avoid many complications with passage permits, and many small caravans would want to register under his name.

Viscount Grant was a busy man, and after the registration, he discussed the coordination and preparation of the artillery troop with Elder Prude for a while before bidding farewell to his guests.

Leaving the residence with the maid’s guidance and coming onto the street, Elder Prude, with a relieved smile on his face and laughter touching his features, reached out and patted Ian on the shoulder.

“How was it?”

He asked in a low voice, “Young Ian, what do you think of Viscount Grant?”

“Hmm…”

After pondering for a moment, Ian frowned and said earnestly, “If I were a little older, he would definitely make a move on me.”

“That old lecher’s gaze is too direct; I can’t stand it.”

The elder halted in his step, his face registering shock, and he was at a loss for words.

After a while, Elder Prude shook his head with a resigned chuckle, “Indeed, Viscount Grant truly has no concern for gender… but you, young rascal, are thinking too far ahead!”

“He squeezed my hand when I took the brass pocket watch!”

Ian was half joking; he could see that Viscount Grant admired his appearance, but not to such an explicit extent.

If one must say, even if Mr.

Viscount did entertain desires, it was probably his Spirit Energy that he was attracted to.

Here was a man whose lust for power and control far outweighed carnal desires—a true embodiment of the Imperial Nobility.

“Viscount Grant may not be a good person or a good noble, but he certainly harbors great ambition, as well as courage and decisiveness.”

Elder Prude, personally escorting Ian home, continued slowly, “What he gave you is the ‘Wave Singer’ True Form, a lower-tier water-affiliated True Form Inheritance.

Its power is not strong and its potential is limited.”

“Even so, this is extremely precious; it’s something we can no longer possess.”

Elder Prude fell silent for a moment; Ian likewise said nothing, and a hush fell between them.

Eventually, the elder sighed softly, “Our lineage, the White Folks, were once gravely mistaken and were thus exiled here as descendants of criminals.”

“Having lost our Inheritance, power, and protectors, we as exiles should have slowly faded away.

It’s only because I still retain some skills unrelated to the White Folks, derived from my Dwarven Bloodline, that I can continue to protect our people after the exile.”

“Huh.”

Although Ian had guessed why Elder Prude, a Sublimator among the exiled White Folks, enjoyed a special status in Harrison Port, it was likely due to unique skills.

But looking at the elder’s hands, he found none of the calluses typically seen on a blacksmith, thus he felt puzzled, “It doesn’t seem like it…”

“Dwarves aren’t just blacksmiths; it’s year 766 of Tyra, we shouldn’t still harbor such ancient prejudices.”

Noticing Ian’s gaze, Elder Prude laughed, “What I am skilled in is Alchemy and Inscriptions, or the ancient Dwarf Runology, which is also why I can serve as the right hand of the viscount.”

“You are very clever…

Ian, much more clever than I had imagined.”

After a brief contemplation, the bearded elder made up his mind, “Here is what we’ll do: starting tomorrow, every afternoon I will teach a class for the blacksmiths and alchemical craftsmen of Harrison Port, selecting those with potential to transmit the Inscription Art.”

“You should also attend the class.

Learn as much as you can understand.

Since it’s all starting from scratch, you should be able to keep up.”

Elder Prude’s words left no room for refusal, and Ian had no intention of declining either.

To study the Alchemy and Inscriptions of Terra Continent?

He could hardly say he wasn’t interested; rather, he was overjoyed.

Yet, Ian remembered the evening cultural lessons taught by Hiliard and the Inscription classes starting tomorrow afternoon.

He couldn’t help but feel a whisper of doubt, along with a familiar sentiment.

“How come in my reincarnation in another world…”

“I still have to study and take exams every day?”

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