Chapter 122
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Chapter 122: Ancient Wizard
They ran on the suspension bridge.
Before long, the winged leader fell off, and the bridge started shaking. The group, made up of a wizard, apprentice, and guards, heard a loud flapping sound. They felt the bridge shaking violently as if something was hitting it from beyond their sight. The broken bridge would be fixed soon, but they couldn’t stay there for long in such a bumpy place, just like no one could stay on a bouncing rubber band for too long.
All spells cast into the darkness vanished without a trace, and all calls remained unanswered. Realizing their efforts were futile, they fixed another black candle on the bridge and ran forward.
As they neared their destination, the bridge became more stable, almost like when they started their journey. The light from the black candle continued moving forward until finally, the survivors saw the end of the long suspension bridge.
It was like the journey through a dark cave was finally over, and everyone unconsciously started walking faster. Though the path ahead was still dark and the area beyond the long bridge was unknown, walking on solid ground was better than being anxious on the precarious bridge. At the end of the candlelight, there was a flat, empty space. What lay beyond it?
Since the undead creature was swallowed by the magic trap on the bridge, the responsibility of exploring with the candle was given to a soldier. The first soldier to step onto the flat ground calmed their excitement of leaving the bridge, regained some caution, and started walking carefully. One by one, the group followed, some drawing their weapons, others preparing spells.
Ahead of the candlelight, they saw tiles, with a rock-like surface engraved with mysterious patterns, like a palace emerging suddenly in the wilderness. They cautiously arranged themselves and proceeded with caution.
At least they thought they were ready.
The soldier holding a black candle didn’t step onto the tiles without caution. Without the wizard reminding him again, he already understood the importance of watching his step along the way. As the group was a few meters away from the tiles, the candle’s light faintly illuminated something that looked like a chair…
Just as the legs of the chair came into view for everyone, they all fell down.
The strongest soldier and the weakest apprentice all fell to the ground, looking as if they had become devout followers at the same time, wanting to prostrate themselves. They widened their eyes in shock, some struggled angrily, a strange force pressed on their skin making it hard for them to even lift their heads; some tried to cast spells, but those spells never went out, as the strange emptiness pressed down on them, smothering all magic in its cradle.
Warriors and spellcasters alike felt immense weakness at the same time.
The black candle fell to the ground, the flame flickered once, then went out suddenly. Just before that, a new light appeared ahead, attracting everyone’s attention.
The people on the ground tried to lift their heads and look forward.
It was truly a chair, a bone-white, throne-like chair, with a high backrest, very grand, something one could find in an old palace or storybook. The legs of the chair were not the type nobles would choose; they were like the claws of four unknown creatures, firmly gripping the ground, as if they could dash off once released. The arms of the throne protruded forward, with a hand resting on each, skin the same color as the armrest.
A ghostly flame appeared in front of the throne, casting a dim light on the figure in the chair. A cloaked figure sat on the throne, with only fingertips peeking out of the sleeves, appearing too pale and thin to tell if there were hands or bony claws within. The creature’s head was hidden in a hood, only two red dots flashing from its shadow. As people locked eyes with those red dots, they felt tremendous fear.
"Rasheilarchmage…" Miranda trembled as she spoke.
The feeling of luck was broken, this is not the top of the Mage Tower indeed. The unstable teleportation array did not take them to the top of the tower, so who changed the teleportation path? They drew the short straw, the owner of Mage Tower is waiting.
"Yes…yes!" In the midst of silence, only Miranda’s voice sounded particularly abrupt, "A great ancient wizard like this couldn’t have silently fallen, you can transform yourself into a lich…"
The person on the throne remained silent, while everyone on the ground looked at Miranda all at once.
Since the monstrous power took hold, everyone’s tongues seemed glued to their mouths, not even a roar could be heard. At this moment, Miranda was still able to speak.
This black-robed wizard, could do more than just speak.
She trembled as she stood up, shaking all over, eyes widened, breathing heavily as if she had just run for miles. She took a few steps forward, looking like she might collapse to the ground at any moment, but unquestionably she was steadily moving closer to the throne, instead of lying still like the others. The strongest soldier couldn’t move, the quickest to react Bruno was powerless, Rudolf who had layered himself with protections fell just as fast as anyone else…Yet it was Miranda, who seemed the least composed, who could still move. Why?
This question also crossed Miranda’s mind, why me? And then the answer immediately came to her: Yes, of course, it’s me, I am the only black-robed wizard here, the heir who respects and ambitions the ancient wizard.
The answer gave her confidence, but somehow, the fear kept growing deeper. The back of the black-robed wizard was already soaked with sweat, never before had she felt such fear even in the face of the closest brushes with death, her brain even struggled to function. Miranda felt like she was treading in a swamp, the closer she got to the throne, the weaker her legs became, her mind buzzing.
Why was she so afraid? That’s a true ancient wizard, Miranda had expected herself to be overwhelmingly excited and rush forward like ants to sugar. But it’s also very normal to be afraid, it’s the famous Rasheil! He casually killed dragons, effortlessly obtained Divine Artifacts, slew his fellow wizards, and massacred nations…This infamous archmage was remembered and passed down, his story whispered among black-robed wizards for so many years. For the wizards hiding in the shadows of the Aryan Empire, his notorious reputation was admired, his existence was a shining example of ancient wizards, a benchmark for black-robed wizards. How could you possibly defeat a figure shrouded in glory? How dare you disrespect the idol in your heart?
Miranda’s teeth started to chatter uncontrollably. Perhaps due to sweat dripping into her eyes, she still couldn’t see clearly the figure on the throne after approaching so closely. A black mist surrounded the ruler on the throne. Miranda couldn’t make out the face, only seeing pale, almost transparent skin and the same red eyes as described in records.
When she locked eyes with those red eyes, she knelt down.
Miranda felt a fuzzy shame. She had no intention to kneel, but her legs seemed to give out on her. The black-robed wizard was ready to scatter all coherent speech, leaving her tongue-tied. She momentarily forgot their purpose for being there, the fallen covenanters behind her, her teammates, and all the questions she wanted to ask, left with only a deep, uncontrollable fear.
The person on the throne pointed a finger behind Miranda.
Whether there were fingers or bones under the black robe was no longer of concern to Miranda. Her last shreds of attention were seized by the words she was about to hear. A hoarse voice reached Miranda’s ears as the person on the throne said to her, "Kill them."
The black-robed wizard mechanically turned her head towards where the finger was pointing, and she saw the people still lying in place.
They heard the command too, and many faces changed. Some guards looked confused, some looked terrified, their gazes shifting between the black-robed wizard and the other wizards. The Alchemist in a bright-colored robe mouthed words in vain, unable to speak; the Undead Sorcerer remained devoid of expression; Miranda’s apprentice pleaded with her; the white robe wizard sighed helplessly, not even able to let out a sigh, his apprentice glaring at Miranda, apparently convinced she would obey.
No matter the expressions they showed, they were powerless to fight back. With just one area-of-effect spell, these lambs would meet their end.
Miranda felt a chill throughout her body.
Her lips trembled as she struggled to speak, feeling that casting a spell would be much simpler. Rasheilarchmage, the owner of Mage Tower, a wizard from ancient times who remained in this era, commanded her…?
"What… do you mean…" she managed to squeeze out a few words.
"Kill them," the other person repeated kindly.
That’s what it means, just kill them and it will be fine. Those who intrude into Mage Tower must pay the price. The Tower Master didn’t directly kill them but instead tasked Miranda with the job. It may seem cruel, but to ancient wizards, it was quite normal, even kind in a way, showing that he regarded black robe wizards differently. Otherwise, why would he have her do it? This was likely a pledge of loyalty or just the Tower Master’s twisted sense of enjoyment, neither of which were Miranda’s place to question. She had long since set aside thoughts of life and death, for the possibility of gaining knowledge and power, what was wrong with killing them? Even if she didn’t do it, they would still be killed.
However, something was amiss.
Miranda strained her brain, trying to grasp that faintly strange feeling that lingered but couldn’t be captured. Perhaps it was just a misconception, brought on by the interference of mundane camaraderie. Black robe wizards didn’t need companions, they only required objects they could use. The power of ancient wizards proved that solitude was a wizard’s best friend…
"Your grace, Archmage," Miranda did her best to keep her voice from trembling too much, "We didn’t mean to disturb your peace, but the current Aryan is different from the past, a wizard…"
"Kill them," Archmage said.
He cut off Miranda’s explanation, using the exact same words as before, even with the same calm tone. However, the pressure emanating from him suddenly grew stronger, causing Miranda to lower her head and lose the courage to look up. Submit, just submit. Her fingers moved unconsciously, slowly tracing the motions of casting a spell, her hands incredibly steady.
It was so scary, like a mouse facing a huge snake, feeling powerless. Miranda felt as if time was reversing, turning her back into a weak wizard who couldn’t defeat a soldier, hiding from the empire’s soldiers in the river and praying for them to leave quickly. She felt like a novice apprentice who couldn’t even use a simple Light Spell, watching in despair as soldiers burned down her teacher’s books and notes. Two terrifying memories flooded her mind, making her shiver and feel sick with fear, longing for the meals provided by a half-elf chef.
This thought unsettled Miranda for a moment.
No, that’s not… Miranda tried hard to grasp the fleeting thought in her mind, but couldn’t catch it. The resistant thought made her wizard hand, usually steady, tremble, causing her spell to fail.
"No," she whispered almost inaudibly.
How would someone who had defied authority several times feel? Miranda, head down, couldn’t tell or imagine, as speaking that one word had drained all her courage. She heard a voice from the throne saying, "Kill…"
A loud snap.
If Miranda hadn’t been so deeply immersed in fear, she would have heard the flapping of wings moments ago and seen her teammates’ eyes suddenly light up behind her. But she had no time to spare, so she first heard the clear chirp that interrupted the command.
Buzz—! Something was hit.
Crack! Something broke.
The icy fear that had been pressing on Miranda’s chest suddenly lifted, and she looked up in surprise as the heavy feeling disappeared, catching the end of the scene in front of her.
In the glow of the ghostly flames, the leader who had previously fallen into darkness returned. With full wings and tattered clothes, she wielded a long sword that descended from the sky, striking the unbreakable throne. The shadow on the throne remained still, as the sharp blade slashed into the bone chair back, paused briefly, then fell.
The throne was sliced open.
The grand chair was split in two by a single strike, bone shards flying everywhere. Like a collapsing statue, the figure above vanished as the seat cracked open, leaving behind not a black-robed figure with a red-eyed hood, but only a broken chair with runes flashing on the back of the seat, extending over the claw-shaped legs grasping tightly onto the floor tiles. The fragments of the bone chair crashed to the ground, releasing a radiant light from its center, extinguishing the ghostly flames.
Finally, cries of surprise escaped people’s throats, and the oppressive force that had weighed on their bodies and tongues vanished. Startled by a hand on her shoulder, Miranda jumped, only to hear a familiar voice say, "How should I light this candle?"
Before the people who had been pressed to the ground could fumble in the darkness for too long, light returned once more. This time, the source of light was not the dim ghostly flames, but the black candles they had been carrying all along. A black-robed wizard held a candle in hand, with Tasha standing beside her, smiling at everyone. Governor’s left eye was emerald green, yet both eyes shone brightly.
Cheers erupted.
The suppressed voices burst out all at once, creating a cacophony. The guards celebrated their narrow escape, looking like they wanted to lift Tasha up in jubilation. Some younger apprentices screamed, drowning out the wizards’ greetings. Rudolf tried to reopen the Antoine Conference Table, successfully reconstructing the spells that had been fully nullified moments before. Alchemist Gloria quickly praised Tasha for her bravery in saving others from danger, then turned around to scold Miranda.
"Are you foolish?" Gloria said angrily. "That was just an illusion! You let yourself be frightened by a mere illusion?"
Miranda was still in shock and stood there blankly, unable to speak for a moment.
"Spells with banishing effects, gravity manipulation, mild fear spells, and Suggestion Spells all affect us when we enter their range," Gloria said, pointing thoughtfully at a black-robed wizard. "If we stay calm and observe, we can spot weaknesses. It’s even better if someone can move. But what did you do? You approached the area with stronger spell effects without caution, activating something else. By the magic gods, I could mouth instructions to you, and you wouldn’t even see them!"
"Suggestion Spell…?" Miranda murmured as she stared at the debris on the seat. "So, he’s not here…"
"Yeah, disappointed?" Gloria rolled her eyes. "You almost scared us to death!"
The Tower Master was not there.
What scared Miranda was not the Tower Master, but her own fear. Her preconceived impressions and idealized image of "Archmage Rasheil" clouded her judgment, trapping her in her own thoughts.
"At least Miranda didn’t actually attack anyone," the white robe wizard intervened.
"What if Lord Governor arrives a bit late to try?" Apprentice Laurien grumbled resentfully.
"So, where are we exactly?" Rudolf asked. "On the top of the tower or somewhere else? Is the Tower Master even home?"
"We might be wrong," Bruno said, "We thought the default location for the unstable teleportation array was the tower top, and it would go somewhere else only when disturbed, but this Rasheilwizard doesn’t seem to have it set up that way."
In Rasheil’s Mage Tower, the default location for the unstable teleportation array leads here, and only when the Tower Master disrupts the spell, the person being teleported would go to the tower top.
They thought going to the tower top meant no one was controlling, and not going to the top meant someone was in control. The former Tower Master probably tricked many people with this way of thinking. Those who know about it would feel subconsciously that they might encounter the Tower Master if they did not go to the top of the Mage Tower. This made the Suggestion Spell and illusion effects more lifelike.
"Did that Pathfinder encounter something similar?" Rudolf asked.
"Not necessarily, he may not have triggered this," Tasha added to the conversation, "Some spells here are very targeted, just like how we were served with a specific type of magic trap when we faced the skeleton guardian before."
Liandrin is a white robe wizard, and this script of having the black-robed in the team kill others is likely only open to teams with black robe wizards. Even though this place is neither the tower top nor has a Tower Master, it’s still a headache of a lethal situation.
"What’s that?" someone suddenly said.
The floor tiles parted.
Rather than saying "parted," it’s more like they "dispersed," like long-lasting soap bubbles. Beneath the wide area of floor tiles, a square seam appeared, revealing a door covered in runes.
"Magic lock," frowns Bruno, squatting down to inspect for a while. A strange expression appears on his face. "But this lock has already been dismantled."
Pathfinder has been here; he opened the door.
Behind this door, there is a huge treasure trove.
A large amount of spellcasting materials are neatly arranged, giving the impression of a newly discovered tomb full of terracotta warriors. Many materials that couldn’t be found in Aryan are placed neatly, not very carefully, as if they were just sports equipment placed at will for the owner. Some books of modest size but higher value are placed on the bookshelf, besides some spellbooks, there are many notes and reports that have been reviewed — yes, just like the assignments reviewed in the teacher’s office. Here, these basic readings, in the current huge gap between ancient magic and existing Aryan spells, are more effective than a profound spellbook.
The most valuable thing is, Pathfinder has been here, and all protective spells have been dismantled.
The guards and Tasha haven’t noticed anything yet. The wizard and the apprentice have already started to gasp in surprise, gasping for air continuously.
"Am I dreaming?" Gloria trembles and says, "What is this? From adversity to good fortune? No, I won’t pretend that nothing happened. I bear grudges. The black-robed wizard in the team just almost killed us…"
"I’m sorry," Miranda speaks up.
The Alchemist turns his head in surprise, looking the black-robed wizard up and down as if more shocked than finding the treasure trove. He really wants to cast a bunch of detection spells on her. Miranda sighs at this sight, probably refraining from making a few sarcastic remarks due to the current spiritlessness.
"I didn’t do it because I wanted to," she explained, continuing under Gloria’s angry gaze, "it was because of my foolishness and blindness."
The black-robed wizard paused for a moment, shook his head sadly, and said, "The era of ancient wizards has come to an end."
The warehouse was opened, but the Tower Master was not here.
The legendary and powerful Legendary Wizard, who created the great Tower Master of this Mage Tower, did not leave anything behind that he himself did not stay until today. History is history after all.
While the wizards felt uneasy, Tasha had already dived into the pile of materials. The faint abyssal breath called to her, making her move quickly. By this point, Tasha could be certain that the body of the Demon Lord was here.
…or had been.
A few minutes later, Tasha stood in front of a huge platform, the half-unseen material hood looking very high-end. Unfortunately, it was already broken, with its contents missing, leaving only a letter behind.