Chapter 37

Gret's own home was actually near Uncle Kalen's house. After returning home, he couldn't fall asleep for a long time, tossing and turning in bed. Eventually, he got up, lit an oil lamp, and decided to prepare the things he would need for his magic studies the next day.

This small house was Gret's own home, the only immovable property left to him by his father. The house was small, with only one room, about 20 square meters. Gret looked around, and with the help of the dim light from the oil lamp, he could see everything clearly.

Although the area was small, the quality of the house was surprisingly good. The windows were wooden shutters, and over time, many gaps had formed. A slight cool breeze blew through the gaps, making Gret shiver.

The furniture in the room was complete. There was a double bed, a wardrobe, and a cabinet by the bedside with a washbasin. A square table by the window was probably used for meals, with two chairs, one horizontal and one vertical. One of the chairs had a broken leg and could only be kept balanced by leaning against the wall and propping it up with two bricks.

On the other side of the room, a wooden rack stood against the wall, with a set of leather armor hanging on it, quite intricate and inlaid with many copper pieces. Next to the leather armor stood a large sword. Gret tried to lift it but couldn't move it at all; it must have been the weapon used by his father.

Looking down, he saw a wooden chest under the bed, which contained the books left by his father.

The books definitely didn't need to be taken to the mage tower. Gret thought for a moment, dragged out the chest, and found a quill pen with half its feathers missing and a small bottle of almost dried ink. He moved a few books and pulled out a small roll of rough linen paper, which had only about five or six sheets.

Is this all that was left from his previous life for learning to read and write?

If he could only take notes and not copy, these papers and pens should just about suffice for the first day...

Gret sighed deeply. He put the papers and pens into his backpack, pushed the chest back under the bed, blew out the oil lamp, and sprawled out on the bed. Sleep came almost immediately. In the darkness, Gret half-dreamed, half-awake, thinking:

"Oh... I'm already part of the homeowners now..."

In his previous life, he hadn't married, and his salary was low. With wages growing linearly and housing prices exponentially, he had finally decided to buy a house very late. After paying the down payment and repaying the loan for half a year, he hadn't even received the keys when he was transported.

It couldn't be more tragic.

Fortunately, he had a house when he was transported. No matter how old and small it was, it was still a house. It was brick and wood, much better than the dilapidated wooden houses he had seen yesterday.

[Your residence has surpassed 85% of the houses in the city. Please continue to maintain it.]

If he had brought a system with him when he was transported, it would probably have given such a prompt at this moment.

He slept soundly until the bright rooster's crow broke the morning light, and Gret opened his eyes, sitting up abruptly from the bed.

Mage apprentice!

I'm going to learn magic!

Oh, I'm still so sleepy... He had performed surgery all night with the necromancer, rushed back to the city in the morning, and then went to the mage tower to study. After that, he returned to the barracks, saved people, gave lectures, and went to the Spring Goddess Temple. The intensity was comparable to overtime in his previous life!

Forget it, forget it, wash your face with cold water. Gret jumped out of bed, humming a song as he started to wash up. The small house had no bathroom, and the washbasin was empty. Gret searched his memory and remembered that the well was half a street away...

He went out to take care of his personal needs and brought back a bucket of water. After washing his face and brushing his teeth, he tidied himself up, opened the wardrobe, and took out the only two shirts he had, comparing them:

Both shirts were long-sleeved, one dark and one light. The light one was too small, tight and uncomfortable, and he couldn't even bend his elbows. The dark one fit well but had several patches on the elbows and cuffs...

Gret held one in each hand, hesitating. The rest of the clothes in the wardrobe were vests. Thinking about the mages he had seen at the mage tower, like Mage Germain and Elliot, who were both in robes, and even the servant who answered the door was in a shirt and vest...

Since he was going to study, and it was clearly the lowest level of the mage tower, he should dress more formally. There were already enough difficulties; there was no need to create more.

So... which one should he wear?

After comparing them, he finally bit the bullet and put on the dark, old shirt. Just as he was about to put on his shoes, someone started knocking on the door of the small house:

"Little Gret, little Gret!"

"I'm coming, Aunt Ellyn!"

Gret jumped up and responded loudly. He didn't bother to put on his shoes and hopped over to open the door. As soon as the door opened, Aunt Ellyn's thin hand slapped his shoulder:

"Little Gret, aren't you going to the mage tower today? Why are you dressed like that? Come, put on this clothes. Your brother Raymond made it new, and I altered it for you. Have you had breakfast? I've also prepared lunch for you, remember to take it!"

"Aunt Ellyn!"

Gret blurted out. A warm current surged in his chest, and his chest heaved a couple of times before he finally said softly:

"Aunt, this is the shirt Raymond was going to wear for Midsummer Festival—"

"Never mind that boy!"

Aunt Ellyn shoved the clothes into his hands. Without giving him a chance to argue, she pushed him around and slapped him again, urging him to change:

"That boy, even if he wears nice clothes, he won't find a girlfriend on Midsummer Festival. Put it on, Little Gret. You're going to study magic, of course you should wear something nice!"

This slap caught Gret off guard, and his shoulder immediately went numb. Gret's face twisted, and he involuntarily let out a cry:

"Ow—"

This isn't scientific!

This body is at least a level one warrior!

It turned out that even a legendary warrior couldn't avoid a 100% hit rate from a slap by an aunt who had watched him grow up. Gret was pushed around and had to dodge to the corner, quickly changing into the new clothes. Aunt Ellyn pulled him around, looking him over with increasing satisfaction.

"Oh, Little Gret, you look so handsome in this! I've always known you would amount to something—"

Gret reached out and took her hand. It was rough, with pitted fingertips and a few bloodstains, clearly from working through the night and pricking her fingers. Gret sighed softly, held her rough, warm hands in his, and closed his eyes.

"For the health and safety of others—"

He silently recited. A faint white light glowed between his palms, spreading along the woman's fingertips, palms, and wrists.

Wherever it went, the cuts healed, and the pricks closed. The hands that were immersed in cold water, beaten, and washed every day were now warmed, dispelling the hidden coldness in her bones.

"Little Gret, don't—"

The woman's voice trembled. Gret opened his eyes, looked down at her now soft and smooth hands, and smiled sincerely:

"Aunt Ellyn, thank you for your hard work."