Simon squatted in front of a smooth ice surface, looking down at his face.
His ferocious, hairy face had a sallow complexion, and his fur was silver-white, but now he had a tuft of rhombus-shaped golden fur on his head, making him look particularly like a demon with cultivation.
He was almost one of those who failed at transformation, like the many beastly demons in journey to the west; it wouldn't be a problem for Lu, a certain demon, to make a cameo as a minor demon.
By common human aesthetic standards, the Troll's current appearance was not at all grotesque; on the contrary, he was even somewhat good-looking. Although Simon was not obsessed with his appearance, he knew how important an attractive shell was in the mortal world; otherwise, the Buddha's son would not have walked among mortals in that demigod form, simply because people cared about appearance, simply because hearts did not connect.
Updated log when I had a moment.
[Quest: Explore Mana]
Quest 1 (Completed): Attempt to sense mana with your mind.
Quest 2 (Completed): Explore magic.
Quest 3 (Unfinished): Understand the magic system.
[Quest: Linguist]
Quest 1 (Completed): Spoken communication
Quest 2 (Unfinished): Learn written language
Simon found that Jonas was not actually proficient in written language; when he gave him those books, the boy stumbled over the words, mumbled indistinctly, and when he didn't know something, he would start to equivocate.
According to him, there are many languages and scripts on the continent of Tamriel; although there is imperial language as a common tongue, its popularity is not as high as imagined, and the languages and scripts of various races and regions all have varying degrees of differences.
Jonas, a Breton from High Rock, knew spoken High Rock language and some High Rock script. He had stayed in Skyrim for a long time, so he also knew most of the spoken Nordic, and in addition, just a tiny bit of spoken imperial language.
Alas, Simon often sighed about this; it seemed that education was truly an urgent matter, so he planned to send Jonas to the College of Winterhold for further study in a few days.
However, the school was not an educational institution, but more like an academic exchange platform, and everything cost money. Simon inventoried his currency—one hundred twenty gold coins, two hundred fourteen silver coins, and over five hundred copper coins.
According to Jonas, this was already considered wealthy; a luxurious family of four would only spend over a hundred gold coins a year.
So, money was not an immediate concern.
However, there was an important prerequisite for joining the Mage College—knowing magic.
There would be a guard at the stone bridge leading to the College, and one could only enter to study after passing a test, which usually involved assessing your level and then asking you to cast a specific spell. If the tested person didn't know the spell, they could even pay the guard to buy it…
Simon donned his mage robe, and also wove a face covering from Frostbite Spider silk, wrapping himself tightly from head to toe. Then, he set off with Jonas.
The College of Winterhold was within sight; the towering blue pillar of light had long since extinguished, but its form was still grand. The two trekked along the coast, planning to bypass the western mountains and stay away from densely populated human areas.
The Wolf Pack tried to follow, but after Simon drove them away a few times, they quieted down, merely watching the two walk away from a distance, letting out long wolf howls.
Simon was now like a parent taking his child to school to register and pay fees. Jonas was very reluctant to leave him, and the two agreed to meet once a week at the hotel in Winterhold.
The journey took two days; the road was truly difficult to navigate. There were many Walruses along the way, but with ample food, Simon did not actively hunt them. Additionally, on the first night, they encountered a brown bear that actively sought a fight; after Simon killed it, it became their dinner.
As the morning light shone upon the land, the Mage College was directly overhead. The two braved the wind and snow, ascended a steep, icy, and slippery slope, turned right, and passed through a coniferous forest. By this time, Winterhold also faintly appeared as a dilapidated silhouette on the horizon.
It is said that in 4E122, a great tsunami occurred in the Sea of Ghosts, submerging most of Winterhold. After the tide receded, it left behind a huge cliff, yet the Mage College suffered no damage whatsoever.
Jonas exhaled a breath on Simon's back, "Mr. Troll, I can walk the rest of the way. Please put me down."
The child was probably trying to maintain some dignity, which is why he wanted to walk on his own; he hadn't been so unyielding when climbing the slope earlier.
Simon reached back, grabbed Jonas by the neck, and lifted him to the ground.
"Let's go," the Troll grumbled.
Outside the woods was a collapsed house; bypassing it led to Winterhold's main road, which was actually just a narrow gravel path. Low wooden houses lined both sides, with sharply angled thatched roofs that prevented snow from accumulating. At the end of the street, a group of female Guards, wearing scale armor, sky-blue cloaks, and bullet-shaped helmets, slowly patrolled with torches.
It was still very early, and there were no pedestrians on the street, only joyful laughter coming from a tavern with a wooden sign. The Guards, seeing strangers arrive in Winterhold, slowly approached. The one in charge warned, "Outsiders, if you dare to have any improper thoughts about any lock, you'd better watch out for my sword!" With that, the four Guards all gripped their swords, as if they were about to draw their frost blades and strike him down the next moment.
Simon nodded, his entire being still hidden beneath his dark robe, appearing mysterious—not like a good person. Jonas quickly flattered the Guard captain, and after a few words, the atmosphere softened.
Another Nord female Guard said in a serious tone, "It looks like you two are also going to that damn Mage College. Hey! Lads, take my advice, a real man should be a warrior! Those mages are up to no good!"
Simon mumbled, "Children need to learn."
The Guards were dismissive, "Learn? Just go through a few rounds of fighting on the battlefield, and you'll be fine!"
Ever since Junon, the rune god representing wisdom, left the Nordic Pantheon, these barbarians had become increasingly less thoughtful, becoming big, clumsy oafs.
Speaking of war, the Nord women started chatting, completely ignoring Simon and Jonas. They exchanged glances, shrugged at each other, and walked along the gravel road towards the Mage College's stone bridge.
Although Winterhold was the capital of Winterhold Hold, its size was at most a village. Indeed, the harsher the climate, the fewer people lived there. Cities in southern Skyrim were, on average, much larger than those in the north.
After walking a few steps, Jonas suddenly pointed to a house by the roadside, "Look, the Jarl's Longhouse."
The Jarl's residence was still humble, situated diagonally opposite the tavern, and completely unremarkable in the gloomy, snowy weather. If Jonas hadn't specifically pointed it out, Simon would have entirely overlooked it.
After walking a bit more, they left Winterhold. Along the way, they could still see dilapidated houses, and one that appeared to have suffered a fire. The outermost house stood right by the stone bridge. There were also a few clusters of bright red snowberries by the bridge, and among them, an old mammoth skull.
The stone bridge was only wide enough for one person. After three steps, it became a slippery, snow-covered bridge deck, paved with rhombus-shaped stone bricks, which offered a tiny bit of anti-slip effect, but unfortunately, only a tiny bit. The bridge deck was too steep; Jonas fell several times, and in the end, Simon had to carry him up. They arrived under a square archway, where there was a platform with a College of Winterhold plaque embedded in the ground, and a small stone well filled with an eerie blue, water-like mana.
Jonas didn't have time to marvel when a loud female voice, speaking imperial language, came from the shadows of the archway's pillars. He couldn't quite understand it, but it was roughly a warning.
A High Elf woman in a grey mage robe stepped forward a few paces. Although her appearance was still unclear, at least they finally saw someone.
The woman carefully scrutinized the Breton Boy, apologized in High Rock language, and then repeated, "Cross this bridge at your own risk. This path is very dangerous, and the gate will not open. You should go back."
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