Chapter 636

Chapter 636: "Things Change, People Don’t"

The rain fell heavily, shrouding the entire garden in mist.

The tall tower within the downpour looked like a thin, towering troll, with the faintly glowing magical energy at its peak resembling a half-open eye, watching the lonely warlock below.

At that moment, no one was in the Mage Quarter; the heavy rain made that normal.

Jesse stood there for a long time, watching streams of rainwater flow between the bricks near the garden. Was it just him?

The stone walls felt cold, and Jesse touched them, uncomfortable and unfamiliar. Only the door in front brought him some comfort, as this was Malin’s study.

“Master?” He knocked on the door.

Even though he didn’t know why he should go in, Jesse felt he needed to.

There was no response, so he pushed the door open and gently closed it behind him, bringing silence to the room.

There was no metallic scent from burning Arcane, no fragrance of books; only an unpleasant fishy smell lingered, along with a chaotic black shadow sitting at the desk.

The only light came from the dim sunlight through the high window, with rain splattering in rippling patterns. That wasn’t Malin.

"Are you looking for me?" Jesse asked.

The man behind the desk replied, "You’re the one looking for me. I sense your mind is full of questions." His words tightened like iron chains around Jesse’s throat.

Questions in my heart? Could he really read minds?

No, he had already confirmed he couldn’t.

After spending so long with Molofeel, Jesse was used to having his thoughts guessed through emotions.

Of course, facing Deathwing himself, not a magical servant who always obeyed, made him uneasy. Jesse touched the bookshelf, identifying titles on the spines to calm his nerves.

Then, he spotted a book titled "The Love of Trolls," which he had carelessly burned when Malin taught him the Scorch Curse.

The black dragon wasn’t lying; he truly had entered his own dream…

Or maybe this was just another trick, meant to make Jesse sink deeper, believe his words more, and weave a convincing scene from his memories to lower his guard…

No, he couldn’t access memories; that was already settled.

Jesse realized he was wavering again; staying completely calm was incredibly hard… but he had to try.

Perhaps he should sense the shadow’s emotions; he needed some control.

But he felt nothing. The man’s shadow was a swirl of chaotic black ink… perceiving it too long could pull him in, make him lose reason, and sink into a quagmire.

“I notice you’re different today,” the man suddenly said. Jesse turned to him. What was different?

Had he failed to control his attitude, emotions, or something else? Shouldn’t he have picked up that book?

As he spiraled into these thoughts, he felt close to madness, but he couldn’t lose control. The key was to make the other believe.

“I accept my role,” Jesse said.

“Exactly what I wanted to hear,” the man responded.

Jesse’s heart eased a little; then he thought of a question he had planned to ask but didn’t know who to ask.

“I have a question for you.”

“Go ahead.”

“That Orc Warlock, Nekros, the treasure he holds—I want to know how to use it.”

“Now isn’t the time.” The man stood up, casually opening a book. “The way to use it isn’t like other knowledge that could be written down or spoken… Even the most gifted spellcasters had to hold it themselves, feel its power. Once you take it from that Orc, I’ll guide you and teach you how to use it so my so-called noble siblings crawl at your feet.”

Jesse nodded. “I’ll kill that Orc.”

The man added, “And give him a painful death. How dare he try to use my things against me, that laughable bug? He can’t understand; it’s my creation, like my child. How could a child bear to harm its father?”

“But don’t forget the main mission: get my things back, and the dragon eggs. The eggs matter most.”

“I understand.” Jesse paused. “Also, about immortality, I need to confirm details.”

Hearing this, even in shadow, Jesse sensed the man’s sudden interest. This emotion made the chaotic ink seem to ripple, strong enough for Jesse.

Why? Did he truly plan to grant immortality? Not some cheap trick or wordplay. This seemed the question he wanted.

“I don’t want the Wyrmkin kind of immortality,” Jesse added. The man frowned.

“I’m disappointed. You doubt my promise and see me as a trickster. I thought we were honest with each other.”

Deathwing seemed genuinely displeased, and Jesse struggled to stay calm, but the tension in his mind trembled.

He couldn’t handle Deathwing’s anger, but he had to ask.

As a warlock who had fought Wyrmkin, studied them at the Wizard’s Sanctum, and even killed one, he knew Dragons could raise mortals to Wyrmkin.

Wyrmkin lived longer with dragon blood, but Jesse couldn’t accept that, and Deathwing surely knew it.

If he hadn’t asked, it might seem suspicious, at least to Jesse.

In this dream, Jesse even doubted if he wanted Deathwing’s offer.

So, was the question to convince Deathwing or learn the truth? He wasn’t sure himself.

But that was fine; if he fooled himself, what could the other say?

“I won’t doubt it anymore, Master,” Jesse said.

The shadow stayed silent a long time, then chuckled. “Let’s end here.”

Jesse nodded, turned, and pushed the door open to leave. He didn’t know why he did that pointless thing in his dream, but it was habit.

Outside, the sky had cleared, and the sun shone brightly—as if the rain never fell. Busy students hurried through the garden path toward the Wizard’s Sanctum entrance.

Wait.

No, this wasn’t a dream.