CHAPTER 144: BARON CANESTANE

"No need to be so surprised, Youngest," Xavienne’s voice floated from the carriage window. "What you just witnessed is Uncle Yevric’s ability. He calls it ’Word Law.’ Anything he says... becomes law."

Asher stood frozen for a moment, his eyes following the devastation Yevric had wrought with nothing more than a casual wave of his hand. With his Perfect Astra Control, Asher could sense with absolute certainty that the old man had not even used a single mote of Astra to achieve it.

’Such an ability... and such a physique,’ Asher thought, the weight of it settling in his mind.

’Could he simply say "die," and his opponent would drop dead?’ His thoughts spiraled, conjuring endless images of the absurd and terrifying possibilities that this so-called Word Law could bring about.

But as quickly as the awe came, so too did his analytical caution. ’There’s a major weakness. This ability only works if he actually speaks. If he loses his tongue, then it’s useless. And if someone with a sound-based ability completely blocks or nullifies sound, it would be rendered ineffective. Since sound travels through air, someone with enough mastery over air could silence him entirely. But... Commander Yevric doesn’t seem like someone careless enough to leave such flaws unchecked. I’d wager he’s already devised ways around them.’

Commander Yevric had already turned away, walking back toward the carriage with a soft, satisfied smile, the kind of smile one wears when they’ve finally gotten the chance to stretch their muscles after a long while.

With a light push off the ground, his boots found the roof of the carriage, and he sat down there with ease, as though it were the most natural seat in the world.

Asher exhaled, shaking his head with a wry expression. ’There are simply too many overpowered people in this world. Reaching the top won’t be nearly as easy as I once thought.’

Without another word, he slipped back into the carriage the same way he had exited, through the open window, his movement smooth and unhurried.

The bandits’ corpses lay sprawled on the ground, unburied, unacknowledged, and utterly forgotten.

Without pause, the carriage rolled onward and their journey resumed. They did not cross paths with any more bandits, but they encountered numerous monsters along the way.

As always, Yevric merely flicked his wrist or waved his hand, erasing entire packs and waves of beasts in an instant, as though swatting away flies.

Over an hour blurred by in that same fashion, and soon, their carriage approached a town visible in the distance. Through the carriage window, Asher could see a long line of various carriages queued up, each waiting for its turn to pass through the great gates.

"This is the territory of Baron Canestane," Xavienne explained, her gaze also fixed on the sight ahead. "Every year, his lands are used as a gathering point before students are sent to Star Academy."

"This is one of his sources of income," Xavian added smoothly. "With the influx of nobles, knights, commoners, all kinds of people, prices here rise noticeably. Some people even arrive a month before the Academy’s admission date just to avoid the dangers of traveling too close to the deadline. That way, they don’t risk a sudden death from bandits or worse, just days before their future begins."

Asher nodded faintly. He didn’t need them to spell it out; he could easily imagine how many bandits would see this as the perfect opportunity to strike it rich. After all, plenty of nobles and wealthy travelers would be heading this way, many of them carrying valuables worth a fortune.

It made sense that some would come weeks in advance, willing to spend the extra time rather than gamble their lives on a last-minute journey.

Of course, Baron Canestane’s territory wasn’t the only gathering point. This same process took place all over the Zarethorne Empire, every region had its own designated admission post. Students merely had to head to the one nearest to their homes.

Their own carriage joined the line, halting in place. Through the window, Asher scanned the queue ahead. Some travelers were on foot, others had a single horse, and more than a few looked utterly exhausted. Many carried bags slung over their shoulders as they trudged forward patiently.

If he hadn’t known better, Asher might have assumed some grand festival was about to begin.

"Surprised we weren’t given preferential treatment as nobles and allowed to go in instantly?" Xavian asked with a faint smirk, shifting his gaze toward Asher.

Asher simply shook his head. "Not really. I even forgot about that for a moment."

"If it were yesterday, we could have bypassed the line entirely," Xavienne noted. "But today is the official admission day. Everyone, regardless of rank or title, waits their turn."

"See that man in the cloak, sitting on the wall?" Xavian gestured subtly with his chin.

Following the motion, Asher’s eyes locked onto a hooded figure whose presence radiated quiet authority.

"If anyone tries to skip the line or cause trouble, he has the authority to disqualify them on the spot," Xavienne said matter-of-factly.

’No wonder none of these nobles are flaunting their status,’ Asher mused. ’I can only imagine how many arrogant fools have been thrown out because of their pride.’

He gave a small sigh and shook his head.

His mind, however, drifted back to Yevric. Part of him couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that no powerful enemy had shown up along the road. It wasn’t that Asher sought danger recklessly, but the prospect of watching two formidable warriors clash was simply too enticing.

That wasn’t too much to ask for... was it?

The line inched forward little by little. Time passed, minutes blending together, until at last their turn came.

At the gates, the guards stiffened to attention, bowing respectfully. The butler and maid, who acted as their coachman and coachwoman, barely spared the guards a glance, simply driving the carriage forward once clearance was given.

Asher’s gaze swept over the town with mild curiosity. Even at a glance, he could tell the buildings here paled in grandeur compared to those in the Capital or in the Wargrave Ducal territory. But that was only to be expected, after all, the Emperor resided in the Capital, and a Duke ruled in the Wargrave lands.