Myths Reawakened

After lunch, Wayne entered the forest east of the manor house for meditation. Since it was a private forest belonging to the Lando family, with only one path leading through it, the place was quiet and rarely saw visitors.

He had no choice but to venture deeper. The elements near the house had either been captured or had fled. The three elements other than fire dared not get close. Wayne had to chase them down instead.

Running away? Haha, where do you think you can go? You’re never escaping my reach!

Two days ago, Veryl made adjustments to the weekly meal plans and formulated a detailed ingredient chart, asking Wayne about his likes and dislikes. The extraordinary butler had observed his eating habits and noticed his lack of interest in afternoon tea and casual disregard for dining etiquette.

When it came to food, he didn’t have particular preferences. Apart from his hate for potatoes, he didn’t differentiate between much else. Taste and cost didn’t matter. It was fine as long as he could fill his stomach, preferably with something he could eat quickly to avoid delaying his studies.

Not being picky was the most difficult standard to meet. Veryl felt challenged as a butler. He’d collected information on every ingredient available in the Kingdom of Windsor’s markets, compiling it into a comprehensive chart overnight, all to find out what his young master truly liked.

His enthusiasm was difficult to dismiss. Wayne checked the chart. He didn’t really care about the specifics of food, but when he saw rice among the ingredients, he immediately picked it as the main component of his future meals.

Huh, so rice grows in the Chosen Land.

He had always considered the Chosen Land a bastardized version of Europe. Did European people plant rice? He had never looked into it, but probably not?[1]

Regardless, he got the staple food he wanted and became more enthusiastic during meals. He also asked Veryl to have a wok made. Finally, three months after his transmigration, he got to have tomato and egg stir-fry and shredded potato stir-fry.

Potatoes, which he had blacklisted, became his favorite once more.

Due to the differences in the ingredients and especially condiments, the dishes didn’t taste quite right, but a reunion after a long separation always made people overlook flaws. Veryl’s consideration and attention to detail were a great pleasant surprise to Wayne. The butler was competent to the point of perfection, with no identifiable flaw.

A real pro!

Although Wayne was content, Veryl wasn’t. He wanted to do better. The next day, he handed Wayne another chart and procured chili peppers, scallions, ginger, garlic, and fennel for him.

Not only was Wayne looking forward to future meals, but he also had a feeling that he would soon be able to have hot pots. Wouldn’t it be great to have hot pot while singing? Life would be wonderful then.

He couldn’t be more pleased with Veryl. If he had the money, he would’ve headhunted Veryl as his butler.

In addition to the wok, Wayne also drew a simple blueprint and had the butler commission three pairs of brass knuckles with hardened steel surfaces and dull edges, useful for increasing damage output in close combat.

The brass knuckles were small, easy to conceal, and convenient to use. They could improve his offense while protecting his fists. With more intricate designs, he could claim they were decorative trinkets he collected. Even if police found them, they couldn’t prosecute him for carrying what appeared to be ornamental items. They were perfect everyday tools for self-defense and surprise attacks.

Crowbars were too conspicuous in comparison.

It had been five days since Wesley and Hood left. Wayne was so lost in training that he forgot about the two detectives. He had recently figured out a way to capture elemental particles without needing to meditate: switching his perspective to merge with the Book of Greed, using its tentacles to snare elements wandering in nature.

The pros: the Book of Greed had an insatiable appetite, and by merging with it, he could capture elemental particles at more than ten times the normal efficiency. Even though he could only retain thirty percent of the elements no matter how much he negotiated, it was still a great amount.

The book didn’t so much capture elements as inhale them.

Now, he could maintain highly efficient meditation for two hours—three if he took medicine. He used all three hours improving his thoughts and mana, ensuring steady training progress.

The cons: the Book fo Greed was too damn greedy. It did not differentiate between elements and devoured the fire elements he’d been avoiding, consuming them without discrimination.

When it first happened, he’d almost had a heart attack. He remembered Silvia’s warnings and feared his sanity would be overwhelmed by powerful desires, turning him into a scum—greedy, lecherous, lazy, and countless other negative traits.

But it didn’t happen. Even with the vast number of fire elements the book inhaled, he hadn’t even managed to fill up his life essence. Then he looked at the stagnant progress of the earth, water, and wind elements, and he wondered if he might be a genius. Well, he didn’t have to wonder. The facts spoke for themselves.

He didn’t quite understand. On one hand, he knew his master, the District High Reverend, was unlikely to have misjudged his talent. On the other hand, he couldn’t accept being labeled mediocre. He had transmigrated with a cheat. He shouldn’t be untalented.

After consideration, he followed his natural tendency and blamed the Book of Greed.

Perhaps he wasn’t born with exceptional talent, and his life essence should have been no different from that of ordinary people, but the Book of Greed had artificially increased his ceiling and made it impossible to judge him by common metrics, thus leading to his master’s mistake.

It seemed likely! He got a giant eyeball in his chest and tentacles. Common sense wouldn’t apply to him, and he was far from ordinary.

Like a fish getting back into water or a camel shaking off the final straw that would’ve crushed it, he worked hard with renewed determination, as if he were back in his college days. Even after pulling all-nighters, he met the next day refreshed.

He would prove himself to Silvia within three months.

He wasn’t trying to prove how extraordinary he was—this was his chance to declare that he would always reclaim what he’d lost, that Wayne was no weaker than anyone!

But first, he had to work even harder. His poor elemental affinity was undeniably his biggest weakness, which undermined the accumulation of his life essence. He gradually relaxed his restraint on the Book of Greed, allowing it to inhale elements as much as it wanted. The book was satisfied, and he felt the joy of being satisfied as well.

The golden-red eye occupying one corner of the book’s cover slowly opened. Although it was still grey, the earth, fire, water, and wind elements had established the basic framework, acting as both energy and matter. With basic requirements fulfilled, the Book of Greed officially awakened.

Wayne now had more tentacles and could plunder elemental particles faster!

The grey eyes were no longer lifeless, gaining a hint of vitality. The previously unresponsive small eyes now met his gaze with the framework established.

The largest eye in the center of the book was Wayne’s self, while the other eyes each represented a property. Some were moonlight, some were death, and more were chaos and disorder that remained named.

The eye representing moonlight pointed to the seed of mana Kristen had planted in Wayne’s body. The Book of Greed had captured information nestled deep within it, but the amount was negligibly small.

The eye representing death pointed to Klorfron, which the Deathwalker had sacrificed. With a substantial amount gathered, the eye was the brightest apart from the central eye.

The other eyes opened because of the Gate of Truth, sorted by the Book of Greed into several categories, differing in the amount of information gathered. None was worthy of attention at the moment.

He had not figured out the correct way to open the eyes. Perhaps it was impossible without meeting some prerequisites. He considered the matter, combining seemingly unimportant clues to form deductions and approach a hypothesis.

“Cheats are awesome!”

With his mind made up, he decided to stop rejecting fire elements.

He was an unusual case that didn’t operate by the common standards for measuring a mage. His priority was to capture more of the four fundamental elements to first satisfy the Book of Greed and then meet the needs of his life essence.

“There are too few elements around me. Is there no training resort with an all-you-can-eat buffet for elements?” He frowned.

“Young Master Wayne, there’s a call for you.”

Veryl crossed the shaded path and approached him.

“Who is it?”

“Mr. Hood.”

...And who’s Mr. Hood again?

1. Rice has been grown in Europe, but this is how the author wrote it. ☜