A figure glided over the imposing wall of the lord’s manor. With a flick of his fingers, he cast {Spatial Mirage} which blended him seamlessly with the daylight. The patrolling guards continued obliviously, their gazes passing over him as he slipped unnoticed to one of the balconies where the former lord’s study room was supposed to be.

  Of course, the figure was none other than Victor. He peeked inside to check for any movement and listened intently.

  “Huh?” It appeared that there were two figures leaning over a table littered with scrolls and maps, deep in conversation.

  “The knights dispatched to capture that cursed child were driven back, injured and empty-handed!” one of the men snapped, slamming a fist down on the table. “Moreover, the Magus who led them disappeared entirely. How could this happen?”

  Beside him, a burly, armored man maintained a measured tone despite being visibly tense. “There’s more going on here. That unidentified Magus who intervened… Do you really think we’re the only ones after her?”

  The first man’s face twisted with worry. “So… what do we do now?”

  Before he could respond, the room’s door burst open, and a man in a distinct acolyte robe strode in.

  “Sir,” the two men greeted in unison, coming to attention under his stern gaze.

  The newcomer, whom Victor recognized as an acolyte, frowned deeply and said with a cold voice, “The Merlin family has no patience for incompetence. We’d rather see that cursed child dead than risk further setbacks.” His eyes shifted between the two men with open disdain. “You both have failed miserably. Explain yourselves.”

  So, that acolyte is the envoy sent by the Merlin family, huh?

  “S-Sir… it’s like this…” the first man stammered, recounting the entire incident in nervous detail.

  The acolyte’s face hardened as he listened. “If an unknown Magus is meddling in this, then it’s not worth provoking them further,” he said, shaking his head. “We have more urgent priorities. Control over the city is still tenuous, and we’ve yet to find the bastard responsible for killing the Merlin family’s young master.”

  Listening closely, Victor gleaned an important detail: there were currently no high-ranking members of the Merlin family stationed here. The only official Magus in their service was Roland—the very one Victor had subdued the day earlier. Furthermore, they had determined several locations around the city rumored to be linked to Graviel’s death, including the Thornwood Forest.

  Under the guise of avenging their fallen kin, the Merlin family had seized control of this region, drawn not only by sentiment and the rumored inheritance but also by a valuable resource they believed the area concealed. Victor’s lips curved into a faint smile as he pieced together their ulterior motive. Even more intriguing was their specific interest in Lillie, whose unique constitution had evidently caught their attention. They had intended to capture and experiment on her—if not for his timely intervention.

  Interesting. Truly interesting.

  Everything Victor had overheard aligned perfectly with what both Brown and Oleg had reported. With that in mind, there was nothing to be worried about. By his estimation, it would take months, at minimum, before the Merlin family mustered the resources and manpower to investigate the Thornwood Forest in earnest. By then, he’d be fully prepared to confront whatever forces they might send. Unless they sent the family head, who was a Nexus Temporal Magus, nothing would be able to stop him.

  Before long, the three men departed the room, and Victor seized the opportunity to slip inside, carefully opening the window to avoid detection. He looked around the room, taking in the polished wood furniture and ornate decor, but his attention was soon drawn to a painting in the corner. Framed in delicate filigree, the portrait depicted three figures: a dignified, handsome man with silvery hair, a beautiful woman with snow-white locks, and a young girl whose innocent gaze and soft smile closely mirrored her mother’s. They all wore happy smiles, like a family untouched by misfortune.

  “This must be a portrait of Lillie and her parents,” Victor mused. Moving closer, he noticed an inscription at the bottom: “The Brightmoon family—together, forever.”

  He felt mixed emotions—mostly sympathy, but partly guilt for his inadvertent role in upending their lives.

  She’s now my personal apprentice. I’ll make it up to her by raising her into a great Magus.

  Gazing at Lillie’s parents in the painting, he vowed, “I promise to give her a happy life as an apology for what I have caused. You can rest assured.”

  Filled with resolve, he turned away from the portrait and approached the ornate desk. Instead of rummaging through the papers and taking anything, he lightly touched any documents that seemed important, allowing his Shadowlink Mark to record their contents.

  “Alright, time to go back. Let’s see how the players are faring.”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  With that, Victor swiftly recast a fresh layer of his illusory spell {Spatial Mirage}, seamlessly blending himself with his surroundings before heading back toward the balcony. He stepped lightly, moving along the ledge before finally taking flight.

  Just beyond the towering stone walls outside the city, Victor and the fifteen players assembled at a secluded hillside rendezvous point. The hidden dirigible lay nearby, sheltered beneath thick tree cover and dense undergrowth, its presence concealed from the unsuspecting city below.

  Victor’s gaze swept over the group, assessing each player. The varying expressions of excitement, fatigue, and satisfaction hinted at successful endeavors. “Is everyone here?” he asked with a calm and commanding tone.

  “Yes, Headmaster,” Zero confirmed with a respectful nod as murmurs of agreement rippled through the gathering. As a Magus, Victor could easily verify everyone’s presence, but he asked this out of formality.

  Auralise stepped forward, flanked by her team. “We secured a number of materials and negotiated a contract for future supplies,” she reported, with a small, self-assured smile. “Though, given the quantity of the item, we may need to extend our stay by a day to finalize everything.” Her servant, Domonique, stood just behind her, holding a sack brimming with rare materials.

  Another player, Storm, crossed his arms, looking pleased. “The industrial district was a gold mine—Thunder managed to convince one of the biggest smithies to reserve some of the rarer ores like mithril exclusively for us, at least in the short term.”

  Victor’s lips curled into a slight smile of approval. “Good. Once we’re back on board, we’ll catalog everything.” He then turned to the last group—KuroUsagi’s party—adding, “And your side?”

  KuroUsagi exchanged glances with his party members, a grin breaking across his face. “Sir, we managed to gather a ton of different supplies and samples, some of which even the academy doesn’t have. Figured it was best to cover all bases.” He pointed at several bags and sacks piled up nearby. “And we still have about a quarter of our funds left.”

  Victor nodded in satisfaction. “Excellent work, all of you.”

  He had allocated fifty platinum coins to each group, as that was the strongest currency used by mortals and would be plenty to procure all the items on the list. Except for aetherite and voidstone, there was nothing on the list that money couldn’t buy. On top of that, he wasn’t worried about running out of them, as raiding the slavers had provided him with quite a sum—about a few dozen platinum coins and a few hundred gold coins.

  However, for certain rare items not listed, mana crystals were the only currency that could buy them. These materials—primarily rare magic metals and alloys—were beyond the reach of common markets and only available through discrete channels. Since this region lacked a market for mages, Victor would have to be patient and procure them from the supply channel his players had opened up. Overall, though, what he had gained marked this as a successful expedition.

  Clearing his throat, Victor continued his address. “All right. We’ll extend our stay by one day to finalize arrangements. You are free to roam the city, but remember, don’t do anything that is out of line. Keep things subtle and within reason.”

  “An extra day? Woohoo!” Prominence’s eyes sparkled with glee.

  Storm leaned in with a mischievous smile. “I wonder if there’s a red-light district in this city. Purely for ‘research’ purposes, of course.”

  Locktekei caught on instantly, grabbing Thunder by the shoulder. “We’re with you, Storm! Right, Thunder?”

  Thunder groaned. “Wait, why me too? I didn’t sign up for this.”

  “Do you want to get banned from the game?” KuroUsagi rebuked with his arms crossed. “Even if a place like that exists, I’m not risking it.”

  A few others chuckled, exchanging eager plans about what they’d do with the extra time. They spoke of checking out the markets, exploring hidden areas, and finding the city’s best eateries, treating all of this like a vacation. The buzz of anticipation filled the air as each of them prepared to make the most of their day in Brightmoon City.

  Victor wasn’t going to be a party pooper, so he let them do as they pleased as long as they didn’t violate his guidelines.

  Back at the academy, Lizbeth perched on the desk in the Headmaster’s Room, monitoring the players’ various activities through the holographic screens before her. As the academy’s self-proclaimed assistant fairy, it was her responsibility to oversee its progression and ensure that everything ran smoothly. For hours, she had watched the endless bustle of tasks and combat unfold, her wings fluttering lazily in boredom. She was just about to close the screens and indulge in a well-deserved nap when a sudden alert startled her.

  Her pointed ears twitched as her eyes snapped to the flashing screen. What’s going on?

  Zooming in, her expression turned to shock as she recognized the player’s username: “SuperNovaX.” He had been exploring the Thornwood Forest, venturing deeper than anyone had before, but now his status had abruptly turned black.

  Lizbeth’s brow furrowed. Normally, a player’s death wasn’t cause for concern—the System would automatically initiate revival protocols and queue the players for revival, incubating a new body for them inside the Nexus Tower. But this time, an error message flashed across the screen, and her heart sank.

  “He’s… lost?” she murmured in confusion. The screen displayed, “Incubation not possible.”

  Frantically, her delicate fingers flew across the holographic keyboard, trying to manually re-establish the connection. Yet, each attempt returned the same error. “Why can’t the System connect to his gaming capsule?” Despite the many strange supernatural phenomena and anomalies present inside the forest, nothing like this had ever happened before. Players might die, but they always returned.

  Unless…

  Her breath caught as a horrifying thought surfaced. There was only one explanation for such an unprecedented failure.

  “Someone… or something powerful has cut off SuperNova’s connection to the System!” she uttered out loud, her wings fluttering in agitation.

  Quickly, she pulled up his last known coordinates and replayed the footage that his Shadowlink Mark had captured before his death. SuperNova had ventured into a part of the forest where the trees were twisted and lifeless, their bark blackened as if burned from the inside. The air there was thick with an unnatural gloom, and the ground teemed with the wandering dead. Suddenly, SuperNova fell into a trap, and the screen went dark. But just before the video was cut off, Lizbeth caught a fleeting glimpse of a shadowed figure at the edge of the frame. This is bad. Really bad!

  “Uh-oh, I have to tell Master immediately!” she exclaimed, hurrying to reach him with the urgent news. Whatever had taken SuperNova out wasn’t anything ordinary—it was a threat that neither the academy nor the players could afford to ignore.