Chapter 62

PS: Regarding some people saying I'm padding my word count, my thoughts are as follows: Since some people think my descriptions of the environment and details are insufficient, and I personally feel that the earlier parts were a bit tight, I am trying to improve my writing skills to provide a better reading experience. Of course, if most people think that excessive descriptions are unnecessary, I will revert to my original style.

Eragon did not live in the village. From his conversation with Chuci, he learned that Eragon lived on a farm in the valley outside the village. When asked why he didn't live with the villagers, Eragon honestly replied, "I can't afford the house tax."

Chuci was surprised. Could it be that in this feudal agrarian society, there were people who couldn't afford to buy a house in the suburbs?

Eragon explained, and Chuci finally understood. It turned out that the king had set a tax. In any place where the king's army was stationed, a protection tax had to be paid to the commander every month to support the king's army, which in turn protected the safety of the villagers.

Eragon's explanation was filled with personal emotion, showing strong disdain for the villagers who, unable to afford houses, complained about the grapes they couldn't eat. In his view, the king's army was a parasite on the people. Cava had never been attacked, and these people had never served any purpose. He had lived on the valley farm for many years without any incidents.

Chuci was not influenced by Eragon's views. He looked deeper into the issue of taxation. While taxation was indeed a form of exploitation by the king, it also reflected the integration of the king's army with the grassroots population. In places where the king's army was stationed, the people were protected from rebels, bandits, and wild beasts within the kingdom. This system was not purely brutal exploitation. Therefore, although the villagers resented the king's army's arrogance, they were also constantly protected by it. The king, it seemed, was not a completely brutal tyrant.

Chuci never viewed things with a simplistic perspective. Where there are classes, there is exploitation. Even if a different king were in power, taxes would still be collected to support the noble class. It was unclear how the system worked in the age of the Dragon Riders, making it difficult to judge its merits and demerits.

While his mind was processing these political thoughts, Eragon had already led Chuci to the valley farm and introduced him to his family—his uncle Garrow and his cousin Roran.

There was a retired soldier.

Chuci's first reaction was to look at Garrow's hands. Those calloused hands could wield a pitchfork to thresh grain or a spear to stab enemies. Eragon's life wasn't as ordinary and miserable as Chuci had imagined.

"Welcome, sir." Garrow instinctively hid his hands behind his back and smiled a welcoming smile, looking like a harmless balding farmer.

"I'm glad to be accepted." Chuci calculated the time and realized he would probably have to stay here for a couple of days to wait for the plot to unfold. It was a good opportunity to give Eragon a crash course before the dragon egg hatched.

Chuci gave Garrow a piece of alchemically synthesized gold and Roran a steel sword that he couldn't put down. Chuci performed alchemy right in front of them, extending his hand to separate atoms from the soil and then synthesizing them, creating something out of nothing. The three were amazed, and this only confirmed Chuci's identity as a mage, leading to his quick acceptance.

"Chu, what about me? Why don't I have a gift?" Eragon, being young, couldn't hide his envy as he watched Roran happily testing the sword on the ground. Before Chuci entered the house, he quickly asked for a gift.

"Eragon, you shouldn't use a sword," Chuci turned and looked at Eragon seriously. Even though Eragon was a skilled swordsman in the original story, as a knight, the most suitable weapon was a spear. For a Dragon Rider, the most appropriate weapon was a fifteen-foot-long dragon lance.

Looking at Eragon's thin arms, Chuci shook his head. "Ah, young man, you need a strong and powerful arm."

"This egg is for you, as a gift." Chuci threw the dragon egg to Eragon. After studying it for a whole day, Chuci didn't want to risk using alchemy to accelerate its growth, so he decided to entrust it to its destined owner.

"What is this? An egg?" Eragon was disappointed. This was far less impressive than a shiny sword.

"Haha, Eragon, what did you get? An egg? That's amazing. I wonder if you can crack it open and fry it into a fragrant omelet." Roran couldn't help but laugh, teasing Eragon, "Maybe it's the egg of a legendary creature. Eragon, you're rich!"

Eragon's face turned red, and he argued stubbornly, "This is a gift from the mage. It might be a dragon egg. When I become a Dragon Rider, you'll only be a foot soldier."

"Okay, okay, Mr. Dragon Rider, you can keep boasting." Roran didn't believe that Chuci would really give Eragon a rare dragon egg.

Inside the house, Garrow served a bowl of hot soup. Chuci took it, sipped it, and a smile curved at the corner of his mouth, thinking that maybe it wasn't just boasting.

In the capital of Alagaësia, a city named after the kingdom, a magnificent royal city built against a mountain. Generations of rulers had made the city prosperous and clean, with white stone slabs paving the streets. The king's subjects did not live in the dire conditions described by the rebels.

Their king was not only autocratic but also ambitious. An ambitious king not only enjoyed the wine of power but also maintained the kingdom to protect his power.

Galbatorix, the Dragon Rider with the ultimate black dragon, the king of Alagaësia, was now furious.

"Durza, where is she?"

"Your Majesty, I will find her." Durza bowed deeply, and no one could see his expression.

"I don't want anyone to get her. Bring her back." Galbatorix's dragon power pressed down on Durza's back, making the kingdom's top sorcerer stiffen.

"As you wish, Your Majesty." Durza turned into a mist and disappeared from the castle.

"This treacherous and cunning undead creature had better not try to challenge the king's tolerance." Galbatorix's eyes flickered, and he muttered only after Durza's presence had completely vanished.

For a whole month, Chuci stayed on Eragon's farm. The hatching of the dragon egg took longer than Chuci had expected. The autumn wind blew through the fields of wheat, and today came the good news that Roran had successfully courted the butcher's daughter, Katrina.

In contrast, Eragon was still diligently practicing the spear techniques taught by the military instructor. He had to hold a long spear steady, and it was even more challenging to do so with one hand. The instructor believed that if a knight could not achieve harmony with his horse through long-term training, then one-handed spear techniques were more suitable for a knight who needed one hand to control the reins.

"Sir, you said you would make me a knight, but just practicing spear techniques isn't enough. At least let me ride a horse." One evening, after listening to Roran's boasting, Eragon finally couldn't hold back and asked Chuci, "The farm has horses. Even without a saddle, I can give it a try."

"Horse?" Chuci smiled, intending to continue comforting Eragon and urging him to focus on the basics. But then the alchemical magic eagle, which had been flying in the sky, sent an alarm.

A swift army was approaching Cava, and Chuci's increasingly acute hearing also detected movement inside the house. It was in Eragon's room, a sharp sound, like a pot hitting the ground or a chick pecking its way out of an egg.

The dragon had hatched.

"Eragon, your mount has arrived," Chuci chuckled, telling Eragon to go back to his room to witness the most beautiful miracle of nature.

bkd3686569, bkn The Twelve Constellations of the Apocalypse

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