Chapter 392 - Disguise
Magical item, [Resonance].
It is considered a rare item in that it allows the exchange of simple communications through magic power, but it has the drawback of a very short communication range.
'Using this, the main command system existing between Rayshen and Shedger consists of only two methods.'
First, for short instructions, Rayshen sends specific codes through [Resonance] to deliver commands remotely.
Second, for long instructions, he calls Shedger through [Resonance] and issues direct commands.
The codes used in between were devised solely by Rayshen, so even if someone else were to obtain [Resonance], they could never deceive him.
'But I am the exception.'
Back at the Bohemirn Magic Tower, whether Verden noticed or not, Rayshen had sent countless signals to Shedger through [Resonance].
That was only natural.
It would be laughable for something treated not even as human, but as one of the tower's supplies, to worry about appearances.
For such a Verden, playing the role of Shedger wasn't anything grand at all.
After showing
It was a gem that radiated a yellow light.
"As you know, the magic or magic circle stored in Dexar's Jewel can only be activated at will by the Mage who engraved it."
In other words, it is impossible to store another's magic and use it as one pleases.
Here lies a contradiction.
If so, how could Rayshen use Balrog's spatial teleportation circle sealed within the first generation of Dexar's Jewel?
What makes it possible is the Mado Rayshen pioneered.
"Magic power manifested through Rayshen's Mado becomes a medium. By interfering slightly with the existing framework, it creates a gap where external force can be added. In other words, it becomes possible to insert functions that originally could not exist."
"To add impossibility to the unattainable… quite a peculiar Mado, indeed."
A special Mado.
Though it sounds incredible, and in fact is extraordinary, it is not without limitations.
Especially.
'Just because the possibility exists does not mean it will succeed. And something like Dexar's Jewel will collapse on its own if not maintained constantly.'
The consumption of immense resources, time, and mental energy is a given.
How many offerings and materials has Rayshen sacrificed so far, just to secure a few successes?
Surely enough to form a mountain.
The cost was astronomical, unbearable to anyone but the Bohemirn Magic Tower itself.
Now in Verden's hand was Rayshen's creation, an artificially altered Dexar's Jewel, engraved with Rayshen's own magic circle.
A trump card that Rayshen had handed only to his direct escorts.
The crucial matter here was not the type or level of the circle.
'It is the magic power Rayshen sealed within it.'
In Subspace, Verden summoned a high-grade magic stone, then moved to the center of the underground chamber.
Placing Dexar's Jewel on the ground, he inscribed three magic circles.
The Divide.
The Combination.
The Stability.
Alchemy-specialized circles, the very same used when tracking Gluttony and when pursuing the Glory of the Dead.
Fwoooosh.
Dexar's Jewel disintegrated, its embedded circle unraveling with it.
At the same time, the magic power forming the circle began slowly separating.
As Verden kept time, he placed the high-grade magic stone on the second circle. Without the slightest error, Rayshen's magic power and the stone fused together.
The unstable repulsion was pressed down and stabilized by the third circle.
Clack.
Within the [Compass of Black Hour], a new stone was installed.
As soon as it activated, the needle spun several times before pointing toward the location of Rayshen's safe house.
'Accurate.'
This would serve as a powerful insurance against unforeseen events.
Verden handed the compass to Cain.
"It is an artificial artifact that tracks Rayshen's location. The range is considerable, so unless he uses spatial teleportation, you won't miss him. As the person in charge of the Society, keep it with you. Do not lose it."
"Ah, yes. I'll keep that in mind, senior."
Cain answered firmly, though inwardly he tilted his head.
'How does he know so much about the Bohemirn Magic Tower?'
Even information that not even the Society had uncovered…
And the existence of an artificial artifact that could determine someone's location through magic power was difficult to accept.
Normally such things could only be produced by a magic tower or a great nation.
'Could senior be a member of the Bohemirn Magic Tower?'
With that possibility naturally arising in his chest, Cain asked.
"I understand, though not simply, the second reason you captured Shedger, senior. But I cannot at all guess the third… is there something more to gain here?"
To be frank, the third was the essence.
Verden lightly loosened his hands.
"Bring one of the Panian's Moles that Heras captured."
Adrian brought over an unconscious mole trapped in an iron cage and placed it beside Shedger.
"Listen carefully, Cain. Currently, Rayshen, his three direct escorts, and certain insiders of the Bohemirn Magic Tower all carry something peculiar… yes, to put it simply, something like a tracking magic circle, a Trace, is engraved upon them. Kill them recklessly, and the Bohemirn Magic Tower will notice."
"…What?"
Cain's eyes widened to the point of tearing.
A drastic emotional shift, unlike his usual demeanor.
"Tracking on a continental scale… does such a circle even exist? Well, I know there are high-level black magic equivalents, but even those don't apply to beings with sufficient magic resistance. How in the world would the Bohemirn Magic Tower, whose mainstream is elemental magic, manage that…?"
Strictly speaking, it wasn't the power of the forced circle itself. It was a certain magic circle utilizing Coercion, created by Balrog.
Verden had realized this when he encountered Adrian.
If not for such safeguards, Adrian, the experimental subject, would not have been sent alone to the autonomous territory of Midros.
In any case.
"There are two points you must always remember."
Verden placed his hand on Shedger's solar plexus.
"Before eliminating them. You must remove the circle intact, and transplant it into a Panian's Mole, so that its function continues."
And.
"The only one who can freely handle this circle is me."
Blue eyes flickered.
Threads of magic power burrowed in, gnawing away at the joint where Coercion bound Shedger.
A task requiring the utmost concentration.
He pressed on with the severing, recalling his struggle within the treasure vault of the Bohemirn Magic Tower to achieve Defying the Heavens.
At last.
Kwa-ji-ji-ji-ji-jik!
Verden seized the forced circle, and tore it away.
***
The main body of Verden and Shedger's
'But a spirit-body manifested through Ignacia's power is different.'
Like the [Circlet of Projection], one could directly focus consciousness and wield it as one's own body, or else, by the same principle as multi-magic computation, control it remotely.
Of course, in the latter case, there were risks, such as Verden's main body being unable to exert full power, but nothing serious.
'If need be, I can sever the link temporarily and reconnect later.'
In other words, a total of one man playing three roles.
Consequently, all plans would proceed centered on a single person.
Power as an individual.
Capability as a collective.
All of this was the accumulation of Verden's capabilities until now.
***
Even though the sun had not yet risen, the grand plaza of Gargant was already abuzz.
It was crowded with people who had all been chosen as participants for the labyrinth.
Not only because of the dragon materials, but also out of eager anticipation—what reward would a Transcendent prepare? And at the same time, a heavy tension lingered, for their strength would be restricted, and they could not carry the equipment they usually relied on.
Total, 400 people.
Not all of them would come out alive.
Ignacia's chosen theme this time was survival and competition.
In the end, it was their own choice, so even if they died, resenting the Transcendent would be meaningless.
Step, step.
Verden—possessing the spirit body granted by Ignacia, now appearing as a plain and unfamiliar 3rd-tier Mage—walked through the crowd, glancing around.
It was only when the auction's start time drew near that he managed to approach the group he had been seeking.
"..."
Seen up close, his friend stood with two attendants at her side, leading the Mages selected from the Bohemirn Magic Tower branch.
With arms crossed, she stared sharply forward, expressionless the entire time.
Ignacia had named it the Labyrinth of Ants… and surely, "ant" was not a meaningless word.
Whether called Genius outside, whether renowned, whether a promising talent of the next generation, it meant nothing if one could be killed like an ant.
'Rovellin is no different.'
Born with a special trait suited for fire magic, she certainly had an advantage over others.
But one misstep, and she could still die in vain, no different at all.
That was why Verden stepped forward.
The situation Rovellin faced was not like his own past, when he had no one to help and no one to call for aid.
'I will not stand by.'
Verden remembered the day Rovellin had asked to go together to the magic city.
Time had passed.
Boom—thud.
The 400 participants were suddenly surrounded on all sides by Ignacia's followers, who struck the ground with their staves.
A massive magic circle formed across the plaza.
It was so abrupt that more than half the participants showed signs of panic, but regardless, the circle activated and burst into violet light.
'A large-scale spatial teleportation. Fitting for the faction of a Transcendent.'
As was habit, he calmed his magic power.
Of course, as he was now merely a 3rd-tier Mage, no matter how much effort he exerted, he could not resist such a teleportation of this magnitude.
Feeling the enormous wave of magic surging, Verden lifted his head.
By chance, his gaze met Rovellin's.
It was but a fleeting instant.
Fwaaaaaaah!
The magic circle flashed.
In the next moment, a dark radiance swallowed the 400 participants whole.
***
Rayshen activated [Resonance].
This time, not for a simple short message, but to deliver a slightly longer command, so he directly called Shedger.
After some time, Shedger, having completed his mission of monitoring Rovellin, entered the safe house.
Without even glancing that way, Rayshen, lying down, spoke.
"I've been thinking it over with Sarokan and Barkent. Even if we shared it with Dark Warton, the Luas Church has still gotten quite a bit of the Bone-Relic Dragon's remains, right? And they're having a merchant guild called Licentia sell it on their behalf."
"..."
"Do you really think Licentia has only one piece of dragon material? I doubt it. And even if it's true, chances are high the Luas Church will entrust more to them for sale later."
Rayshen twisted his lips.
"So, gather information on Licentia, as much as possible. Once Ignacia's Scales ends, try to make contact."
Whether by killing and seizing, or by negotiating and acquiring.
They might end up antagonizing the Luas Church, but it hardly mattered.
Rayshen was overflowing with confidence that his identity would never be exposed.
"Yes, Rayshen, sir."
Answering clumsily, Shedger immediately left the safe house.
Without the slightest sign of suspicion.
Once Shedger—Verden—had truly distanced himself from Rayshen's group, he let out a low chuckle.
'Walking into the jaws of death of his own accord.'
Fine then, if you wish to know about Licentia, I shall tell you.
If you want, I can even arrange for you to meet its guild master outside Gargant.
That was what Verden desired as well.
"Senior, support forces from the Society have just arrived. As instructed, they are waiting outside Gargant."
Now everything was in place.
Rayshen Tailroad.
From here on, everything delivered to you will be nothing but blind truth.
The secrecy that had shielded the Bohemirn Magic Tower's vile secrets would become your cause of death.
I declare it.
The moment you leave Gargant, you will die.
***
"Then I'll go see my family. Hahaha, I'm afraid I won't even be able to express to my wife and children how magnificent the performance was. You look tired, so take a good rest in the meantime."
Early in the morning, the coachman waved his hand and departed.
Isabella, after watching him leave for a while, returned to the building where she stayed.
She took out [Price of Palanhad] and [Screamer], most of her fortune secretly spent to obtain them from the coachman, and placed them on the table.
"..."
Sitting on the bed, hugging her knees, Isabella stared at the two artifacts.
She held in her hand the necklace given to graduates of the Academy.
Endless waves of regret crashed down.
If only she had never entered the Academy.
If only she had not helped "that man" there.
If only she had not grown close to "that man".
If only she had never invited "that man" to her family mansion as a friend.
If only she had not revealed her family's secret to "that man"…
Such tragedy would never have happened.
Crack.
With strength unthinkable from her slender frame, the Academy necklace shattered into pieces.
Shards stuck in her hand fell away, blood and flesh swiftly regenerating. The spilled blood, laced with toxins, corroded the bed.
'The time remaining is about a day and a half.'
The current head of House Argyle, Isabella Argyle.
Here was a woman—no, a monster—who wished only for death.
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