"Young man, I have seen your sparring at the arena today. I say, your technique is quite amazing… Not to mention the quick casting, you even handled your opponent beautifully…"
"It is good to gain such experience. I hope you won't take Theodore's earlier mockery to heart. After all, the interruption during spell casting is a common strategy among the wizards."
One by one, the elders approached Baston with their polished smiles and measured praise. Their tone was warm, too warm to be accepted for his poor identity.
He stood among them like a misplaced ornament in a room that was filled with expensive relics. He bowed when appropriate, nodded when necessary, and replied with modest answers carefully that was wrapped in humility.
Inside, however, he felt the temperature of the room shift. This was not kindness wholeheartedly since hidden from the conversation was the evaluation.
Earlier in the arena, their gazes had been sharp and dissecting. Now, they were weighing him differently. Not as a curiosity and not as a joke since he was being evaluated as an asset.
The reason became clear soon enough because Alicia's father had acknowledged him even though the purpose was kind of different.
Once the head of the family expressed his interest, the rest followed naturally. The nobility was a current. Once the river shifted its direction, the smaller streams adjusted themselves without protest.
He could see the pattern clearly. The elders did not approach him because they admired him. They approached him because the head of family had made a decision.
"Baston, I'm sorry I haven't introduced myself properly," a deep voice spoke from behind the circle of the elders.
The murmurs softened immediately, giving a chance for the head to finally speak.
"My name is Harry Xavierius. I'm the head of this family and I'm also Alicia's father. It's good to finally speak with you directly."
Baston bowed slightly, "It's my honor to meet you, Lord Harry. I never expected such a great lord to greet someone like me personally."
Harry laughed lightly, "Don't be overly modest. I called you here because I'm curious. Your technique felt practiced since it was not something a boy who suddenly awakened to power could mobilize it fully. It's as if you've been studying far longer than your years suggest."
The air stilled. It was subtle but Baston noticed. The others were listening carefully now.
He felt a thin line of cold sweat slide down his back. He forced a small and almost embarrassed smile.
"Not really, my lord. I simply dislike pain so I learned several ways to defend myself. My offensive ability is nearly nonexistent because I only know how to avoid getting hurt."
It was not a lie but it was just not the whole truth. Harry studied him for a brief second longer before he nodded.
"I see…"
The tension loosened slightly but not completely. They changed the topics smoothly, like the seasoned politicians that were shifting subjects without revealing their dissatisfaction.
"Recently, there have been many assassination attempts across different territories," one elder commented casually while sipping the wine, "Do you think there is a shift in power among certain organizations?"
"I cannot say…" another replied, "There are too many secret groups that were operating in the shadows. Even the kingdom struggles to monitor them all."
"We only need to take care of ourselves," Harry added calmly, "There's no need to entangle the family in such disadvantageous conflicts."
"True… true…"
"I heard a certain lord was nearly killed last month. Luckily, he was saved by his loyal guard."
"Yes... I heard he compensated the guard's family generously."
The conversation drifted lightly but the theme lingered like the smoke. It was about the assassinations, the power shifts, and the silent enemies.
Baston listened quietly. Such information was a currency more valuable than gold. And tonight, the nobles were spending it carelessly.
He also noticed something else. Every mention of the assassination carried a tension but also a familiarity as if the danger was not hypothetical and as if it had already been knocking at the doors recently.
The servants soon began serving the food and drink. The crystal glasses chimed softly with silver utensils that were glinted beneath the chandelier light.
He longed to eat freely, but here, every movement of his was watched.
The elders handled their food like the collectors who were examining art with small bites, measured gestures, and polite smiles.
He envied the younger side table where the laughter rose naturally. Before he could finish his thought, the real purpose finally came.
"Young man…" one elder leaned closer and her voice was smooth as silk, "Your growth in magic is impressive but such talent requires much nourishment."
"Indeed…" another followed, "The advancement without the resources is nearly impossible nowadays."
"If you lack support, how about we assist you? With proper backing, your future will shine."
They painted his futures with fame, power, reputation, and prestige. Each word was carefully placed like the stones for building a golden path.
However, Baston understood something fundamental. Nothing offered by the nobles was free.
Every favor was a hook and every investment demanded the return. The debt of kindness could bind tighter than the chains. He could not reject outright because that would be foolish. He could only chose to delay for now.
"I'm grateful for your generosity," he said politely, "But for now, I wish to focus on my studies at the academy. Once I've grown more stable, perhaps we can discuss further."
Some nodded, some smiled knowingly, and some did not hide their disappointment. A few elders continued pressing and their kindness were growing almost suffocating.
He realized something critical. They were not trying to help him. They were trying to claim him first like the merchants who were competing for rare goods.
If he allowed even a single thread of obligation to tie around him, it would tighten over the time. He had to escape but politely. Yet, the pressure grew heavier. It felt like the invisible strings were wrapping around his limbs. It seemed he had to do something about this.
The chandelier light above flickered faintly. Just a breath of dimness before stabilizing again. No one else seemed to notice but he did.
The old book inside his clothes was quiet but he readied himself to deploy it.
Earlier that day, it had already delivered its punishment notice which were delayed and inevitable. The attack would come. The old book never specified when, only that it would arrive without warning. However, he could also decide the time by himself.
He had calculated the possibilities.
If it struck him while he was alone, he would gain nothing. If it struck him inside the academy, several questions would arise but no political weight would follow.
But here, inside the mansion of a noble family, in front of the elders who were already speaking about the assassinations, and in a room that was filled with the witnesses, the outcome would transform from misfortune into imagination.
Baston's gaze drifted subtly across the hall.
Harry sat upright and he was still composed yet alert. Angus remained quiet but he became observant. Alicia's posture was elegant, though her eyes flickered occasionally toward him.
The elders kept circling him conversationally, tightening their invisible net. And beneath the smooth dialogue, he sensed something else.
The fear was approaching silently without a warning.
The assassination topic earlier had not been random. It was too natural and too rehearsed. Several elders exchanged their glances when certain names were mentioned. One even paused before finishing his sentence as if he was remembering a detail that he decided not to reveal.
The atmosphere of the mansion tonight was polished but not relaxed. There were more guards than usual. Their footsteps outside the hall were heavier and more frequent.
Even the servants moved quicker than necessary as though they were eager to finish their duties and retreat.
This family had already expected the danger. Perhaps, it was not tonight but they kept their guard on.
Baston's mind calculated rapidly.
If the punishment struck at this very moment, the context would complete itself from the assassination rumors, the political tension, a vulnerable head of family, and a young wizard who reacted first.
He needed timing, a perfect one. He lowered his gaze slightly, pretending to consider another elder's offer.
Inside his mind, he reviewed the book's nature once more. The punishment was absolute. It was invisible and unavoidable but it targeted him alone.
Though he placed himself in front of someone else, the attack would still strike him. But to the observers, it would appear redirected.
The sacrifice always held greater value than the talent. The respect that was born from strength could fade but the respect that was born from blood did not.
He measured the distance from his current position to Harry's seat. He glanced toward the window deliberately, testing their reactions. It was nothing yet since the elders still continued speaking.
"Your connections are important, young man."
"Such talent without a backing is like a sword without a sheath."
"We only wish to see you flourish."
Their smiles were gentle but their intentions were not. He inhaled slowly.
If he hesitated too long, the punishment might activate at a disadvantageous moment. If he acted too early, the suspicion might arise. Then, a faint tremor pulsed through his chest.
The old book had never warned him about his performance but for the triggered punishment, it came ready whenever he was ready.
He secretly deployed it before his sense came into a danger. A tightening of breath, a cold prickling along his spine, and the sense that something irreversible had begun.
It was coming soon. He lifted his head abruptly and the movement cut through the conversation like a blade.
His eyes locked onto the tall window that was overlooking the dark garden outside. His breathing shifted sharp and alert. The people froze while the younger generation whispered.
"What's wrong with him?"
"Did someone offend him?"
"Is he losing his composure?"
Still, the elders sensed something else. Baston's expression was not emotional. It was focused toward something outside.
Harry narrowed his eyes and he quietly extended his magical perception. Angus did the same but they sensed nothing.
The night outside remained still with no mana fluctuation, no movement, and no threat. Yet, Baston's gaze did not waver. And then, he moved suddenly. In a single burst of speed, he stepped in front of Harry.
"WATCH OUT!!!"
At that exact moment, the old book's punishment was activated. It was invisible, silent, and unavoidable.
A force from nowhere pierced into Baston's body with catastrophic precision. The pain was absolute and it felt as though his bones shattered inward.
The blood erupted, making his vision went white. The agony lasted only seconds before the darkness swallowed everything.
He collapsed while the crimson was spreading across the polished marble. For half a heartbeat, no one moved.
"ASSASSIN!!!"
The chaos detonated and the guards soon rushed in. The knights formed protective circles and the wizards activated detection spells. Several barriers flared to life along the walls.
Harry stood frozen for one second and he was stunned. Someone had attempted to kill him inside his own mansion and in front of his entire family.
The humiliation burned hotter than the fear yet the attack had not struck him. It had struck Baston since the boy had placed himself there deliberately.
The implications struck fast. The boy had seen something and he reacted before anyone else. He had already sacrificed himself.
Harry clenched his fists.
The search spells rippled outward but nothing was found. There was no assassin, no mana trace, no projectile, and no poison residue. It was as if the attack never existed and that made it worse.
Baston lay in a pool of his own blood. His breathing was faint and his condition was critical.
"Take him to the emergency chamber!" Harry ordered sharply.
He could not allow the boy to die. Not after saving him, not after everyone witnessed it, and not when the society would condemn him for ingratitude.
The healers rushed in and Alicia followed without hesitation. Angus moved behind them while the younger nobles trailed nervously.
Theodore swallowed hard. He had mocked Baston before. Now, the fat boy had shielded his father. The irony suffocated him.
Inside the emergency chamber, the magic was poured over Baston's body.
The light layered upon light and his blood was sealed. The internal damage had been stabilized but the healers whispered urgently. The wound was severe and unnatural.
It was almost as if he was struck by something invisible and instantaneous. Despite the severity, his life force remained stable. It was strange, suspiciously strange but no one had time to analyze.
At the outside, Harry convened with the elders immediately. The meeting room felt colder than before and he slammed his palm onto the table.
"BAM!"
"Today, I was almost assassinated," Harry's voice carried a quiet fury, "If not for that young man, I would be dead."
The silence answered him and the weight of the truth pressed heavily.
"I will not allow this humiliation to stand," he continued, "Search every corner and expand beyond the estate, villages, towns, and cities. Anyone suspicious must be arrested."
"I've already ordered the perimeter sweeps," one elder replied, "If nothing is found, we will expand outward."
"I will investigate among the noble circles," another added, "If this was commissioned, someone will slip."
Harry nodded and the strategies were formed rapidly but beneath their plans lingered something more unsettling.
There was no trace about such event. There was no assassin, no sign of infiltration, and no magical residue. It was as though the attack manifested from the air itself.
That was what troubled them most.
If an assassin could strike without leaving evidence then no barrier would be safe. No chamber would be secure and no noble was untouchable.
They discussed long into the night. They were expanding the search zones, activating the informants, and contacting several allies discreetly.
Inside their hearts, they all understood the same thing. If Harry had died tonight, another target would have followed. None of them would sleep peacefully again.
They had to catch the assassin. They had to uncover the mastermind, or else, the next invisible blade might not miss.
And somewhere in the silent darkness of the unconsciousness, Baston slept and he was still alive.
He was closer to his objective than ever before.