Garde's great axe was practically his companion weapon. Ever since he obtained the hero template of Renekton, it had always been with him. Losing it was out of the question; even with his eyes closed, Garde could always sense where it was.
The distance wasn't too far—around a few dozen kilometers. It seemed someone had picked it up and was now bringing it over.
Since someone was bringing it back, Garde didn't bother going after it himself.
After all, his great axe was indestructible. In the hands of ordinary people, it was probably just a slightly heavy axe.
Thinking this, Garde, leaning against the corner of the wall, adjusted his posture to make his tail more comfortable.
Unexpectedly, just as Garde moved, Razer, sitting across from him, immediately set down the book she was reading and swiftly reached for the crossbow nearby.
Garde: "..."
Was he really that frightening?
On the other side, Razer knew her reaction was a bit extreme, but she wasn't about to change.
Whether she could win against him was uncertain, but one thing was for sure: she wouldn't surrender without a fight.
However, staying on high alert was exhausting.
Especially since Razer had just returned from a mission, leaving her already very fatigued.
At first, she managed to hold out, but as time passed and Garde remained silent, the lack of conversation and her weariness caused her eyelids to droop.
By the time she opened her eyes again, dawn had broken.
At some point during the night, a blanket had been draped over her. Across from her, the crocodile man seemed to have stayed awake all night and was now reading a book titled A Brief History of Columbia.
It was called a "brief history" because Columbia's history was indeed quite short—barely a century in total.
Originally, Columbia was a frontier territory of Victoria in the western regions. However, amidst the chaos of war, Columbia declared independence and managed to carve out a respite.
As time went on, Columbia's national strength grew steadily, and in recent years, it had even begun to rival the old empires.
Of course, saying so was one thing; whether it could actually achieve this was another matter entirely.
On Terra, a nation's strength wasn't just about wealth—it was also about the depth of its heritage.
Columbia still lacked the depth that only time could provide.
"Can you read Columbian?"
Razer had awakened. First, she checked her clothes—they were still intact. Only then did she turn to Garde.
The Brief History of Columbia Garde was holding was written in Columbian. Even for Razer, who had specifically studied the language before coming to Columbia, understanding the text was no small effort.
"Somewhat," Garde wrote on a piece of paper.
Hearing this, Razer perked up slightly and quickly walked over to Garde.
"Can I ask you a few questions?"
Garde scratched his head. Seeing Razer suddenly stop being afraid of him, he wrote on the paper:
"Sure."
"Can you tell me what this passage is about? Honestly, I can't make much sense of it."
Razer took the Brief History of Columbia from Garde, flipped to page 26, and pointed to a line of text that wasn't particularly conspicuous.
Next to the text was a time and date.
Garde glanced at it and wrote:
"This is about the emergence of Columbian rap culture. It might be because terms like skateboarding, graffiti, and rap were coined after Columbia's rise, so they don't appear in older dictionaries."
"Skateboarding, graffiti, and rap?"
"Some forms of entertainment," Garde briefly explained.
"What about here? And here?"
Garde noticed that Razer was deliberately picking out simpler passages to ask him about, which amused him somewhat.
"This section talks about Columbia's independence. At the time, Victoria suffered defeats in the Gaul invasion, and Columbia seized the opportunity to declare independence and repel the attacks of the Border Duke."
Garde wrote this explanation on the paper.
"Do you have any other questions?"
Razer's round face tensed up. She felt as if she had embarrassed herself in front of Garde. However, having finally found someone who not only truly understood the Columbian language but was also willing to teach her, she wasn't about to give up so easily.
Setting aside her self-consciousness, Razer fetched a notebook from the desk and began asking Garde about every word and sentence in detail.
Garde noticed that her vocabulary usage was rather clumsy, suggesting that she hadn't learned Columbian from a tutor but had instead taught herself.
For someone self-taught, speaking Columbian as fluently as she did was already impressive.
Adopting the role of a proper teacher, Garde patiently answered her questions. He had taught Columbian before—once to Gavial in the rainforest and later to Carnelian and Surtr during his time in Sargon. He had some experience with this.
Watching Razer's serious expression, Garde felt a twinge of emotion. Sometimes, what one takes for granted is something others strive their whole lives to achieve.
Since Garde couldn't speak, Razer had to stand close to him to see what he was writing immediately. At first, she was a little nervous, but as she got into it, she began questioning Garde's explanations, offering examples of her own. This gave Garde a slight headache.
"I don't actually know much about Columbian customs," he wrote. "I've never been to Columbia myself. Like you, I've only learned about it from books."
"You've never been to Columbia, Garde?"
Razer didn't even realize when she had started calling Garde by his name directly. When she noticed, she realized she had gotten too close to him and quickly stepped back, changing the subject.
"Garde, are you learning Columbian to find work there?"
Work?
Garde thought for a moment and wrote:
"Kind of. But what I really want is to attend a school there. I want to study their Originium control techniques."
Since he couldn't level up for now, Garde decided to focus on improving his mastery of Ascension power through Originium arts—a path that might lead to other breakthroughs.
"School, huh," Razer murmured. She hadn't received formal education herself. Although there were plans to open a new middle school in the city, it obviously wasn't meant for someone her age.
Seeing her reaction, Garde wrote:
"You saved me. I don't have much to repay you with, but if you want to go to Columbia, I can have my friends take you. They're from a Columbian tech company I lost contact with during a mission. If you don't mind, I can sponsor your formal adult education there."
Razer leaned in to read what Garde had written, stunned. It was as if she had handed a piece of bread to a homeless man on the street, only to find out he was the CEO of a major corporation offering to share his fortune with her out of gratitude.
Although Garde's offer wasn't that extreme, it felt like a dream come true for Razer.
However, after some thought, she shook her head.
"Garde, it wasn't me who saved you. It was my friend. If you want to repay someone, it should be her."
Garde wasn't surprised by her response. He simply nodded and didn't bring it up again.
Razer wasn't sure whether she should feel happy or regretful, but she knew one thing—what wasn't hers didn't belong to her.
If it hadn't been for Darina's insistence on helping Garde, Razer wasn't sure she would've intervened while on a mission.
Still, her friend's good fortune was something to be happy about.
While deep in thought, she suddenly felt a large hand patting her head.
The crocodile man held up a pen and paper, shaking them slightly.
"Shall we continue?"
"Let's do it!"
Even though she had lost the chance to study in Columbia and latch onto this powerful "crocodile benefactor," Razer wasn't discouraged.
She believed she could reach Columbia on her own, land a job at a prestigious company, and eventually return with advanced management skills to open her own security agency.
That was her dream—one worth dedicating her life to.
An hour later.
Under Garde's helpless gaze, Razer, utterly overwhelmed by the foreign language lessons, collapsed onto the floor with a dazed expression.
Was it too late to regret her decision now?
<+>
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