Chapter 41: A Fanatic Encounter and a Sinister Plot

Klein and Lia emerged from the lounge, preparing to depart the association headquarters via the teleportation platform.

Amidst the bustling crowd in the grand hall, a figure suddenly darted forward, precisely blocking their path.

“Master Klein!”

The newcomer wore a pristine, deep-blue mage robe, its five-ring insignia gleaming brightly under the starry dome ceiling.

Klein halted, his deep-blue eyes calmly sweeping over the man.

“Austin, do you need something?” his voice resonated.

“Yes, yes!” The middle-aged mage, named Austin, rubbed his hands together, his face flushed with excitement. His gaze lingered on Klein for less than a second before eagerly shifting to Lia, who stood behind him.

That look burned with the intensity of an adventurer who had just discovered a new continent.

“This… this must be Miss Lia, I presume?”

“My apprentice.” Klein’s introduction was concise, and he subtly shifted half a step sideways, shielding most of Lia’s body behind his own.

Austin’s eyes instantly blazed with astonishing brilliance, and his voice shot up by an octave.

“It truly is Miss Lia! Heavens! I’ve finally met you in person!”

This exaggerated reaction made Lia’s brow twitch, and she quietly retreated another half-step, almost pressing against Klein’s side.

‘Is star-chasing a trend in this world’s academic circles?’ she wondered.

“You are the genius who proposed the Principle of Unified Motion!”

Austin completely ignored Klein’s increasingly cold stare, instead pulling out a notebook so thick it could fell a person from his spatial ring.

“And that… that tool called calculus! I’ve studied it for so long, but there are several concepts I simply cannot grasp. It’s like a towering wall blocking my path to truth!”

He eagerly flipped open the notebook, pointing to a page densely packed with derivations.

“Look here, regarding the definition of a function’s limit, I tried to understand it as ‘infinitely approaching an unreachable point,’ but it always feels like something is off…”

Lia leaned in for a glance. The other party’s notes were as neat as print, yet at crucial logical junctures, he had indeed reached a dead end.

She pondered for a moment, then explained in the most concise language possible.

“Your direction is mistaken; the essence of a limit isn’t ‘arrival,’ but the ‘process’ itself.”

“It describes an ‘asymptotic trend,’ an infinite convergence. You can get infinitely close to the target, so close that no scale can measure it, but what we focus on is the unique, definite value that this converging behavior points towards.”

Austin listened, utterly captivated, his eyes filled with fervent admiration. The quill in his hand scribbled furiously across his notebook.

Klein stood nearby, observing Lia’s patient profile as she explained, watching the glimmer of wisdom in her eyes. A hint of warmth seemed to melt the usual chill from his lips.

Fifteen minutes later, Austin contentedly closed his notebook and bowed deeply, a full ninety degrees, to Lia.

“Thank you for your guidance, Miss Lia! You have opened a door to a new world for me!”

Lia was somewhat taken aback by such an elaborate gesture and could only wave a dismissive hand.

“These are just the most basic concepts, really.”

“No!” Austin passionately refuted. “They may be basic to you, but to us mortals fumbling in the dark, this is divine revelation! No wonder Master Klein chose you!”

Klein interjected, cutting short the fervent fan meeting.

“Time to go.”

“Of course, of course!” Austin awoke from his trance, quickly stepping aside. “I deeply apologize for delaying your precious time!”

***

Meanwhile, within a private room at the Violet Club.

Within the silencing barrier, smoke billowed, thick as a living monster, devouring both light and sound.

Marcus was about to announce the meeting’s conclusion when the door to the private room was abruptly thrust open.

A young mage with an arrogant demeanor strode in, his steps swift and confident. His seven-ring mage robe was pristine and crisp, and the insignia on his chest seemed to still carry the residual magic of a freshly completed enchantment.

“My apologies, esteemed seniors, I am late.”

The young mage surveyed the room, his gaze sweeping over the veteran seven-ring mages with an undisguised air of scrutiny, before he casually took an empty seat.

His brazenness suggested he, not Marcus, was the true master of this gathering.

Marcus’s brow furrowed into a knot, but it quickly smoothed out.

“Baroque, you’re not late; you’re perfectly on time.”

He turned to the others, his voice even.

“Allow me to introduce Baroque Vincent, our club’s newest member. He has just been promoted to a seven-ring mage, and his family holds considerable influence in the south.”

Baroque rose, offering a lazy nod to the assembled mages, a self-satisfied, aristocratic smile gracing his lips.

“Greetings, seniors. I look forward to your guidance in the future.”

Old Hal, the alchemist, lifted his eyelids, then let them fall again, diligently polishing a metal test tube.

Green, meanwhile, regarded him with keen interest.

“I heard, Lord Vincent, that your promotion was a stroke of luck, achieved through an unexpected exploration of an ancient ruin?”

“Luck is also a crucial part of strength,” Baroque retorted, clearly displeased by the word “luck,” his tone laced with arrogance. “Results are all that matter, aren’t they?”

“I hear you all are troubled by a little girl hiding in a mage tower?”

He leaned back against the plush chair, assuming the posture of one who commanded all.

The air in the private room abruptly turned cold.

Among those present, who wasn’t an old fox who had operated in the capital for years? Since when did a greenhorn, fresh out of the academy, have the right to interject?

Marcus narrowed his eyes, the tip of his cigar glowing and dimming, reflected in the depths of his pupils.

“What do you mean to say?”

“I mean to say that you’ve all overcomplicated the problem.”

Baroque spread his hands as if mocking their timidity.

“Isn’t she just a clever little girl? Her greatest reliance is nothing more than Klein’s protection.”

“How much do you know about Klein?” Marcus’s voice betrayed no emotion.

“Klein?”

Baroque scoffed, waving a dismissive hand, his tone utterly contemptuous.

“A mere seven-ring mage. Perhaps he’s powerful among his peers, but which of us here isn’t a seven-ring mage? With so many of us, should we truly fear just him?”

Pfft.

Green quickly masked a nearly explosive laugh with a timely cough.

Old Hal paused in his cleaning of the test tube, shook his head, and looked at Baroque as one might regard a corpse already succumbing to decay.

Marcus, however, acted as if he’d noticed nothing. He flicked his cigar ash and calmly asked, “Then, what is your brilliant insight?”

“It’s simple.”

Emboldened by the question, Baroque proudly straightened his back.

“Since that little girl dared to leave the mage tower, it indicates that Klein no longer values her as much! We can simply act directly and abduct her!”

“Klein is just one man. Would he dare to oppose our entire club?”

His ambition burned in his eyes.

“Gentlemen, once we control that girl, all the secrets in her mind will be ours! At that time, the entire magical world of the kingdom will dance to our tune!”

A deathly silence fell over the private room.

Marcus’s knuckles tapped softly on the tabletop, producing a rhythmic *thump-thump*.

“Your idea is quite audacious, Baroque.”

“Then, I am willing to take on this task voluntarily!” Baroque stood up excitedly. “As a newcomer, it is only right that I contribute more to the club!”

“Since you are so confident…”

Marcus slowly spoke, a cold curve gracing his lips.

“Then this task is yours.”

“Really?” Joy flashed in Baroque’s eyes. “Rest assured, gentlemen, I guarantee success!”

“We will fully ‘support’ you.”

The meeting concluded, and Baroque departed with a swagger, fueled by visions of glory.

The door to the private room closed, sealing off everything from the outside.

“Hahahaha!”

Green finally released his suppressed laughter, roaring, “Marcus, you truly are becoming more wicked! You actually let him go!”

“I didn’t force him to do anything,” Marcus said, spreading his hands with an innocent expression. “He eagerly rushed to his own demise.”

Old Hal looked up, his clouded eyes filled with sarcasm.

“That fool doesn’t even know Klein was promoted to an eight-ring mage three years ago, yet he dares to make such a boast.”

“Isn’t it good to let him test the waters?”

Marcus relit a cigar and took a deep drag.

“It will show us exactly how much Klein values that little girl. It doesn’t matter if this idiot dies; we can simply divide his family’s assets in the south.”

Green’s smile turned sinister.

“And if he returns alive…”

“Then it means Klein still has reservations,” Marcus exhaled a thick white smoke ring. “At that point, we shall slowly ‘prepare’ him.”

Old Hal shook his head with a sigh, as if lamenting a tool on the verge of breaking.

“I only fear that this fool will die too quickly, and we won’t learn anything.”