2024-04-28 17:44:25"I'm not trying to scare you, but you haven’t seen old Thorpe's reaction. He was excited when he held that potion bottle. He was stuttering and stammering, saying it was a masterpiece, something for the history books, and more. It was strange..."
The young mage became even more curious. Thorpe was famous in Rebillion City for his potion-making skills, always aiming high. Even the Great Alchemist of the Twin Moons chamber of commerce didn’t impress him, as he usually ignored both old-timers and newcomers.
Solon rarely heard him praise anyone. Just hearing him say “acceptable” was a big deal.
But losing control like this? Talking about future history books...
‘Was the potion that special?’ he wondered.
“You know me, I’m not an expert in potion-making,” Sikoa said, glancing at his disciple. “But Thorpe mentioned that each bottle of this potion might bring another Great Mage to the Sage Tower!”
As he finished, Solon gasped. ‘Forget Masterpiece and history books, this is about Great Mages...’
The Sage Tower had 13 Great Mages, with only 7 residing permanently. The big three had been in hiding for most of the past decade. External affairs and resource conflicts were handled by these seven. In other words, the Sage Tower's status depended a lot on them.
With seven Great Mages...
If Thorpe was right, and each bottle could bring a Great Mage, Solon couldn’t imagine what would happen.
Any power gaining Thorpe's favor could challenge the Sage Tower in Rebillion City. The three big shots knew this. If someone controlled them, destroying the Sage Tower would be easy.
Cold sweat dripped down Solon's forehead at the thought.
On the bright side, Thorpe seemed to prefer staying out of the spotlight. He hadn't revealed his plans yet, sending a young mage with the potion and giving the pass to another young mage.
The key to figuring this out was those two young mages...
Especially Sifa Spellbound. He must be close to the creator, or else Thorpe wouldn't have given him the pass.
‘No wonder Master acted that way…’ Solon thought. ‘If the Twin Moons chamber of commerce was involved in Flint Spellbound's shipwreck and their plot came out, they'd face the wrath of an incredible Great Alchemist...’
As Solon thought, Sikoa ended their discussion. “Given the situation, only a fool would cooperate with the Twin Moons chamber of commerce.”
The young mage suddenly sympathized with the father-son pair. They'd prepared for six months to cooperate with the Sage Tower, only for a potion to overshadow their efforts.
“Okay, I've told you everything. It's up to you to handle it. Don't rely on me. You'll take over my seat sooner or later. Learning to handle these matters is important.”
“Yes, I'll take care of it...”
...
A month passed. Since their discussion in the reception room, Solon kept a close eye on the young mage.
He found the young mage fascinating. His reading range was vast, from light histories to profound Jide Formula knowledge. Solon often wondered if there was any reason behind his choices or if he just read for fun.
Solon wanted to remind him of the rare opportunity in the Sage Tower’s library. Many mages would sell everything for it. Yet he seemed to take it lightly, picking random books daily. Solon feared he might regret it one day.
Today confirmed his fears.
Solon went to the library after breakfast and saw the young mage reading a book with a red-striped cover. ‘Here we go again...’ Solon sighed. It wasn’t light reading; it was at least Great Mage level. For a recent 1st Rank Mage, it was leisurely.
It wasn’t the first time Sifa had done this. Solon even saw him read a silver-striped magic book once, suitable for High Mages. Solon couldn’t bear it. How could a mage not respect knowledge?
Even a book only for Great Mages was just leisurely to him. He wasn’t pondering, just flipping pages with a pleased expression. Solon wondered if he was studying at all.
If only Solon knew he’d guessed right this time...
Caster had tired himself out this month. To quickly understand the current era, he had read through more than a dozen bookshelves. His reading speed was so fast that it would have melted someone else's brain.
Today, when Caster went to the library, he decided to take it easy and not work his brain too hard with boring historical knowledge or comparing magic from different eras. He wanted to find a fun book to read...
So, Caster picked up a book called The Fanrusen Formula. To him, these books for Great Mages were just for fun. It didn't take much effort for him to read page after page. Sometimes, he found mistakes and criticized the errors.
Sitting in the sun, reading and criticizing the author, it was a nice life.
“Tsk tsk tsk, a High Mage who doesn’t know right from wrong, still believing in that seven-string theory? Such a mess...”
“What do you mean by mess?” When Solon approached, he heard the last part and gave Caster a strange look.
“Good morning, Mage Solon. Nothing’s a mess, did you mishear?” Caster raised his head and answered.
“Is that so...” Solon smiled and didn’t say anything else. He had come to remind Caster out of kindness.
Maybe because Caster got his pass too easily, he didn’t seem to appreciate it. His choice of books and attitude while reading seemed too casual. He might regret it later when he aimed to become a Great Mage.
As someone more experienced, Solon didn’t want to see this happen. Sometimes, if an opportunity was missed, it couldn’t be grasped again.
“Mage Spellbound, that...” Solon started talking before hesitating. Although Caster was only a 1st Rank Mage, there might be a Great Alchemist behind him. He couldn’t lecture him in a way that might anger him.
“Eh? What?”
After a moment, Solon said, “It’s not important, I just came to ask if you had any requests. As one of the guests with the highest pass, if you have any requests, we’ll satisfy them.” After this polite opening, Solon paused and then said, “Oh right, Mage Spellbound, do you need any book recommendations? I’ve worked here for two years and know the books.”
Solon felt a bit stuck being so polite to a 1st Rank Mage. He couldn’t help it; there might be a hidden Great Alchemist behind him. Even his teacher Sikoa didn’t want to act without thinking. He had to be careful; if he was too direct, he might annoy Caster.
So, Solon could only sigh inwardly, ‘I’ve given you the chance, it’s up to you whether you take it.’
“How could I trouble you with that…” Caster found it a bit annoying. He had finally decided to take a break. ‘What kind of recommendation can you give me? Are you disturbing me on purpose?’
But declining wasn’t an option because Caster could tell that Solon had good intentions. Thus, Caster could only say a few polite words while thinking of an excuse to brush him off.
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Chapter 375
The warning bells did not ring. That alone told Caster this was not a raid. Morning mist clung to the outer platforms of Glassview as three figures crossed the bridge from open air. Their boots struck stone in clean, even steps. No haste. No hesitation. Cloud Tower envoys always walked like they owned the ground beneath them, even when they did not.Caster stood at the edge of the upper concourse, hands at his sides, coat unfastened. Two Wardens flanked him, silent, eyes tracking every movement. Mana wards shimmered faintly under the stone, tuned tight but dormant.The lead envoy stopped ten paces away. Ardis Valen looked thinner than before. Not weaker. Sharper. His gray cloak bore the sigil of Cloud Tower stitched in subdued thread, the kind meant to catch light only at certain angles. His right hand rested near his belt, close to a sealed focus rod. His left sleeve hung longer than fashion required.Caster did not step forward. Ardis inclined his head once. Not a bow. Not quite
Chapter 374
The archive doors seal behind him with a muted thud. Caster does not turn.The sound tells him enough. The locking sigils are old. Spectral Lime originals. No Consortium overrides. No silent alarms. Just layered wards and heavy stone.The lamps inside the restricted wing burn low. Their light is pale and uneven, trapped inside glass cylinders etched with age-worn runes. Shadows stretch across shelves that rise to the ceiling, packed tight with sealed volumes, crystal slates, and memory coils. Dust hangs in the air. Caster steps forward. Each footfall echoes once, then dies. The floor is slate, cracked in places, repaired in others. Old chalk lines still cling to the seams, half scrubbed, half forgotten.He lifts a hand. Mana flows out in thin filaments, brushing the air, tasting it. The wards recognize him. Not his face. Not his name. His pattern.The shelves nearest him hum softly, then fall silent again. He moves deeper.This wing predates Glassview’s expansion. Before Twin Moons.
Chapter 373
The first sign is silence. Not the quiet of night, but the kind that presses against the ears. The festival below Glassview has ended. Lanterns dim along the streets. Smoke from fireworks drifts and thins. Towers settle back into their slow hover cycles.Caster stands alone on the upper observatory of Spectral Lime. The stone beneath his boots is cracked from earlier damage. Chalk marks still stain the floor where emergency sigils were drawn days ago. Wind moves through the open arches, cold and steady.He tilts his head upward. Above the clouds, something pulls. He does not close his eyes at first. He raises one hand and traces a thin line of mana in the air. The line bends. It does not drift with the wind. It leans upward, like a compass needle.Sikoa stands near the stairwell, arms crossed, watching him. “You feel it too,” she says.Caster nods once. He steps to the center of the observatory. The floor circle there is old, pre-Consortium. Lime sigils ring it, cracked but intact
Chapter 372
The streets of Glassview pulsed with light, laughter, and the clatter of celebration. Stalls were draped in banners of azure and silver, crowds pressing shoulder to shoulder, the air thick with roasted meats, sweet incense, and the acrid tang of fireworks sparks. Lanterns bobbed above the thoroughfares like floating stars, casting shifting glows across cobblestones scarred from months of reconstruction.Caster Spellbound moved through it all almost invisibly, a shadow among the living. He walked with the grace of a man used to command, though his eyes constantly flicked upward, scanning, measuring, reading the currents of mana that hummed invisibly above the city. The festival was meant to honor heroes, him, Sikoa, Solon, the brave few who had risked everything, but in the back of his mind, a dozen other faces haunted him. The students, archivists, and low-tier assistants who had perished in the inferno of the burning library. The necrotic storms. The invisible toll exacted by th
Chapter 371
Night had already swallowed Glassview when Sikoa stepped onto the first ridge of the city’s fractured rooftops. Her cloak, black as the void between stars, fluttered briefly in the wind, catching just enough moonlight to reveal the faint silver embroidery, a sigil she had traced herself, one of concealment and passage.The air carried the tang of smoke and ozone from the necrotic storms that had raged only days before. The city was still scarred, buildings leaning like broken teeth, mana wells flickering with residual corruption.She paused at a vantage point above what remained of the Lower Lime Quarter, surveying the streets below. The quiet was deceptive. Shadows moved in the alleys, some natural, some artificial, shaped by lingering Twin Moons wards that had survived the purge. Sikoa adjusted her gauntlet, fingertips brushing the engraved runes that hummed softly with protective magic. Every step tonight was deliberate, measured, calculated. No orphan, no hidden agent, no lin
Chapter 370
The council chamber of Glassview rose above the city, a patchwork of shattered architecture and hastily repaired towers. Cranes leaned against broken walls, scaffolding lined with banners flapping in the wind, but the chamber itself had been reinforced with layers of Skell energy, warded against collapse and intrusion.Caster Spellbound entered first, flanked by Sikoa. His robes, dark and unassuming, brushed against the stone floor. His aura was subtle but unmistakable: threads of Skell essence interlaced with mortal mana, radiating calm authority. The chamber’s energy grid hummed in recognition, every line of reinforced mana tuning to him.Across the room, representatives from Cloud Tower, Thorn Academy, and Iron Peak waited. Each was an imposing figure, marked by their own sigils and protective wards. Their eyes flicked toward him, weighing, judging, calculating. The air between them crackled with tension, as if the city itself held its breath.Caster did not rush. He paused at
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