School Transmigration: I, Chosen as the Saint by Dragons at the Start-Chapter 165 --Return

Bernie Brown was rendered speechless immediately.

Seeing this, Green Wilson continued in a subdued tone, "I’ve heard Lord Brown say more than once that if you were willing to join forces with him, with him strategizing and you leading the troops, there would scarcely be any rivals in this world. The dragons could be vanquished, and peace could be restored to the realm."

He pointed to the chest on the table as he spoke, "Lord Brown also mentioned that although you excel in martial prowess, you seem destined only to dissipate wealth when it comes to worldly possessions. If you wish to continue living in seclusion, as long as you don’t squander recklessly, this money should suffice for the latter half of your life."

Bernie Brown let out a bitter laugh.

In the end, it was his own brother who understood him best.

"However..." Green Wilson looked at the corpses on the ground, "this place is no longer suitable for you to continue residing in."

To kill an official envoy was, in any place, a grave matter, especially one under the protection of the dragons.

"The most crucial point is, your fortune now is like water, diminishing day by day. Even with this money, you won’t be able to hold onto it. In time, it will all dissipate," Green Wilson said thoughtfully, choosing his words carefully.

"To achieve great things, you are indispensable."

Bernie Brown knew this all too well.

The last time he had gone into hiding, he was not lacking in funds.

Yet, his mansion either caught a massive fire or suffered from floods, forcing him to move.

He had finally settled down in a new county, prepared everything from properties to fields for himself, only for the bank where he deposited his money to fail.

Despite its fame and numerous branches, it declared bankruptcy, and he lost a significant portion of his funds.

Logically, the remaining real estate should have been secure.

Yet, at that time, the region he resided in was engulfed in war, turning the deeds in his hands into mere scraps of paper.

Even upon arriving in Aquaspirit Town, Bernie Brown had engaged in business ventures with partners, only to find that every investment led to losses, growing exponentially until he was nearly stripped of everything, even his undergarments.

He had considered engaging in risk-free trades, yet mysteriously, everything he acquired would just dissipate...

Who said that a capable person could make money anywhere? Who claimed that buying property was a surefire way to preserve and grow one’s capital? He truly wished to sever the heads of those deceivers.

The notion of fortune was not to be taken lightly.

Bernie Brown was also aware that he must have been cursed in some manner, having attempted to dispel it several times to no avail.

There’s a saying that one can only play the thief for so long, but there’s no end to guarding against one.

It was then Green Wilson produced a jade bottle from his bosom, placing it on the table: "This is the Cinnabar Potion, concocted by our master using his own essence blood. Taken thrice daily, it clears blockages. A ten-day course repeated ten times can eradicate chronic maladies."

Could this potion enable his wife to walk again after three months?

Mr.Brown knew that the other party had saved the best for last, but he hadn’t anticipated such a direct strike at the heart of his problems.

"Alright, I’ll go with you," Bernie Brown conceded, no longer resisting, "Let’s find a way to slip out of town."

Green Wilson smiled, as if he had anticipated this outcome all along: "The carriage is ready, just outside the door. At a time when every household is looking out for itself, no one will pay us any mind. The caravan sets out this afternoon and can take us away from Aquaspirit Town."

Bernie Brown found himself thinking of the three young men who had been beheaded.

Now, with dragons plunging the world into war and clouds of conflict, every region was urgently gathering grain and conscripting soldiers, making life exceedingly difficult for the common folk.

Perhaps only by eradicating the dragons could the world see clear skies again.

Having nothing left to lose, he picked up his bundle, lifted his wife, and climbed into the carriage.

Green Wilson secured the gate behind them.

Not far away, an old woman emerged, her eyes brimming with curiosity: "Mr.Brown, where are you off to?"

Bernie Brown offered a smile, saying nothing, as he lowered the carriage’s curtains, cutting off the view from outside.

This old woman had a penchant for wandering into his home uninvited, often pilfering small items as she went.

Soon, the carriage reached the mouth of the alley.

Bernie Brown glanced back, watching as the chaotic alleyway shrank in his view.

This had been his home for six years, living among the common hustle and bustle of the city streets.

There was no idyllic "hidden in plain sight" life here, just the indescribable pain of being relentlessly ground down by life’s harsh realities.

From this day forward, he would bid farewell to such pain. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

Green Wilson handed him a decree, along with a scale-like badge.

The badge was thick, and Bernie couldn’t tell if it was meant to mimic snake or turtle armor, but he knew for sure it wasn’t dragon armor.

The Westro Fairyland despised dragons above all, believing them to occupy the lion’s share of the world’s fortune, key to the current weakness of cultivators.

Tiny serrations adorned the edge of the badge, and flipping it over revealed a few words, blood-red in color: Westro, Azure Warrior General.

Biting his index finger, he stamped the decree with his blood, then grabbed the badge.

Suddenly, a thick yellow light burst forth from Bernie Brown!

Fortunately, he was leaving, unseen by any onlookers.

Primal force.

A power researched and developed by the Westro Fairyland, transcending arcanergy, accessible only to the ministers and officials of Westro Fairyland.

Mixed with arcanergy, primal force could amplify the strength of arcanergy by one or two times.

Simply put, for arcanergy, primal force was a stimulant.

He closed his eyes, silently savoring the primal force he had missed for so long.

In the instant that the yellow light flared, the various miasmas, curses, and misfortunes entwined around him were swept away, leaving nothing behind.

Bernie Brown didn’t open his eyes, yet he already felt an ease of body and mind, his spirit clear and unburdened.

Clenching his fist, bolstered by the primal force, he could withstand the might of a grandmaster—this was no exaggeration, but a reality.

Green Wilson clapped his hands in delight, "Congratulations, General Brown. Now, with the primal force enhancing your strength and the ill fortune dispelled, you can once again pursue ambitious aspirations."

Bernie Brown was also moved internally.

Such was the miraculous utility of primal force that, no matter how unparalleled one’s Mystic Techniques or cultivation against the heavens, it seemed one still required a certain office within the imperial court to access it.

Having experienced its benefits, who could easily forsake it?

His wife, gripping his arm anxiously, asked, "Are you going to take up your duties again?"

"Once you’re better, once you can stand," Bernie Brown replied earnestly, looking at her.

He would not go if it weren’t for securing a bottle of Cinnabar Potion.

"But someone predicted that you would... in the end," his wife said, growing more anxious.

"Die in a military disaster?" Bernie Brown smiled slightly, a new light in his eyes, "Adin, I’ve had enough of hiding away. We both know what I excel at: strategy and warfare, seizing the enemy’s heads with the weapons in my hand."

As he spoke, his aura gradually became evident, like a lion awakening from slumber, baring its fangs.

From this moment, he was determined to change.

"As long as you’re sure," Adin sighed deeply, unsure of what else to say, "where are we headed?"

"Thirty miles north of Aquaspirit Town, there’s a remote farm," Green Wilson spoke with due respect to the lady, "Forces from three directions will meet there, and many are eager to see General Brown."

Soon, their carriage joined the flow, heading north.

...

When Owen arrived at Nebrilliance County, the setting sun was perched atop the mountain peaks, ready to dip below the horizon at any moment.

"The timing is just right," Berkeley stretched lazily, feeling the weariness from the constant travel that had taken its toll on everyone.

A young mokkind man stepped forward from behind and asked, "Your Highness, the people in the caravan are exhausted. Should we not take a rest?"

His name was Timothos, the second in line to the mokkind throne.

Now, with dragons and the angel race at war, the various intermediate races under dragon dominion were naturally expected to join the battlefield.

Leading a mixed force of three thousand from various races, Timothos was tasked with escorting supplies and provisions to the front lines.

In the continent of Novalia, storage treasures were incredibly rare, and often, the transportation of food and military supplies had to be done in the most primitive ways.

It was only because Owen had traveled extensively outside, surrounded by princes of nations or nobles of high birth, that he had the mistaken impression that storage rings were abundant.

In reality, for the common folk, even striving for ten generations might not afford them such luxury items.

Timothos had encountered Owen on the road and, learning that Owen was headed for the front lines near Loveflow City, was overjoyed.

He eagerly seized the opportunity to accompany Owen on his journey.

With the help of dragons, their task of escorting the military provisions would indeed be more convenient.

Owen casually said, "Feel free to do as you please, everyone should take a good rest."

"Alrighty!" Timothos, bubbling with excitement, saluted Owen before stepping away.

Nebrilliance was but a small town of several thousand souls, and now, with hundreds of supply wagons rolling in, the entire western expanse of the town was filled to capacity.

After a whole day of travel, both the men and their mounts were exhausted.

The moment they stopped, the need for food and rest turned the whole town into a frenzy of activity.

The town’s limited capacity to host such a large contingent meant that news of the grain convoy’s imminent arrival had to be sent ahead by at least ten hours, allowing the townsfolk to prepare in advance.

There’s nothing like a hot meal to settle weary and hungry souls.

Though the food was basic, comprising mostly coarse grains and steamed buns, it was at least served piping hot, with some bean sauce for dipping.

The soldiers got to enjoy a bit more, with stewed beans added to their ration, and some even received pickled cabbage to eat with their buns.

As for meat... well, they were only slightly better off than the common folk.

Being able to enjoy a meat meal once every two days was considered a luxury.

Berkeley, patting his stomach, couldn’t help but exclaim, "Isn’t it about time for us to eat?"