Chapter 195: The Vultures Smell Blood

Half a month had passed since the storm caused by the black-covered supplementary issue of Magitech Theory.

The Royal Capital seemed to have caught its breath after the tragic “cognitive purge.”

At the Magic Association’s headquarters, the windows of the president’s office remained shut all day.

Samuel issued what could be called the strictest gag order in the association’s history: it was strictly forbidden to discuss the theories of spacetime and mass-energy conversion in any non-enclosed experimental environment.

Violators would, at best, be fined, and at worst, be thrown into the Black Tower Prison to become cellmates with the madmen who had gone insane from forced calculations and now spent their days trying to rub the air into super magic fireworks.

The entire high-level mage circle in the kingdom fell into an eerie silence. No one dared to mention that formula, as if merely uttering a single symbol would cause their heads to explode like a ripe watermelon.

But in Klein’s mage tower, the atmosphere was completely different.

The Eighth-Circle Archmage was perfectly fulfilling his promise of “being busy with dating.”

Lia leaned back on a deck chair on the terrace, staring at the densely packed parchment in her hand, lost in a long silence.

Klein’s meticulousness in planning their itinerary was in no way inferior to constructing a forbidden spell array capable of destroying a city.

“From nine to eleven in the morning, the Royal Art Gallery’s exhibition ‘The Vicissitudes of Light and Shadow’. I’ve already cleared the venue.”

“Eleven-thirty, the top-floor terrace of the ‘Laurel Branch’ restaurant. The appetizer is deep-sea scampi, and I’ve pre-ordered your favorite caramel pudding for dessert, with the sugar content controlled to the standard level.”

“Two in the afternoon, the Royal Equestrian Field in the east of the city to experience riding magical beasts. I’ve already excluded all grooms with avian phobia and shaky hands.”

“Seven in the evening, the Golden Grand Theater, for the premiere of the adapted version of ‘The Princess and the Dragon’.”

Lia covered her face with the parchment and let out a muffled groan.

“Are you taking me on a date or inspecting your territory?”

“Is there a difference?”

Klein sat across from her, holding a cup of black tea, his tone matter-of-fact.

“Efficiency and experience are not mutually exclusive. I don’t want any accidents to disturb us, like some mage who suddenly decides to self-destruct in front of me.”

Lia took down the parchment, having to admit that he had a point. This feeling of having everything arranged so clearly, although it made one want to complain, did have a reassuring sense of being a useless person.

At least she didn’t have to worry about being splattered with brain matter while walking down the street.

In the afternoon, the two were boating on Moonlight Lake on the outskirts of the Royal Capital.

The surface of the lake was calm, reflecting the clouds.

Klein wasn’t rowing; the small boat was propelled by a constant stream of magical power, moving as smoothly as if it were gliding on ice.

Lia was leaning over the side of the boat, idly tracing the water with her fingers, when she suddenly spoke.

“The ending of that play last time was bad.”

“Hm?”

“The dragon shouldn’t have lost.”

Lia looked at her reflection in the water.

“It was just sleeping in its own cave, guarding its own treasure. The princess and the knight burst in, shouting and wanting to kill it. Legally speaking, that’s home invasion and intentional injury.”

Klein put down his book and thought seriously for two seconds.

“That is indeed unreasonable.”

He nodded. “Since you don’t like it, I’ll have the theater manager change the ending. Let the dragon eat the knight and then lock up the princess to do arithmetic problems.”

Lia was taken aback by his calm, “I can solve anything” tone and rolled her eyes. “There’s no need to be so extreme.”

Just then, the communication crystal ball at Klein’s waist suddenly vibrated violently, the buzzing sound startling the water birds by the lake.

This was the highest priority emergency communication, which only the president of the Magic Association had the authority to initiate.

Klein’s brow furrowed slightly as he answered the communication with some displeasure.

Samuel’s haggard, emaciated face appeared in the light screen, the background still the same dim office piled high with documents.

“Klein! Lia! Where are you?” Samuel’s voice was hoarse, the dark circles under his eyes so heavy he looked like he’d been punched twice.

“On the lake,” Klein said succinctly. “If you’re calling to complain about the recent suicide rate, then I’m hanging up.”

“Don’t hang up! This time it’s not about the dead, it’s about the living!” Samuel was so anxious he almost jumped out of the light screen. “Something big has happened.”

He took a deep breath and spoke rapidly. “The Iron Eagle Empire from the north has sent an envoy to the Royal Capital. They just entered the city gates ten minutes ago.”

Lia sat up straight, her lazy demeanor gone.

The Iron Eagle Empire.

She had read about it in the geography gazetteer. It was a behemoth completely different from the Kingdom of Heinrich. They did not revere elegant and complex magical theories, but were obsessed with giant gears, steam, and cold steel.

The spellcasters there were not called mages, but magitech engineers.

“What are they here for?” Klein’s voice turned cold.

“An academic exchange.”

A smile uglier than a cry appeared on Samuel’s face. “They specifically asked to see the two founders of physics. His Majesty the King has already ordered that you must attend the welcome banquet tonight.”

“I’ve checked the information on this group of envoys,” Samuel lowered his voice.

“These northerners are extremely pragmatic, one might even say cold-blooded. The term ‘cognitive collapse’ doesn’t exist in their vocabulary. In their eyes, any theory has only one value—can it kill people, and can it kill them quickly.”

“Their heads won’t explode because of E = mc². They will only try to find a way to stuff this formula into the chamber of their magitech cannons.”

Samuel paused, his tone grave. “This is called an exchange, but in reality, it’s more like a flock of vultures that have smelled blood, coming to confirm whether we have truly mastered the power to destroy the world.”

The communication was cut off.

The gentle breeze on the lake seemed to have turned a few degrees colder. The peaceful and leisurely feeling from moments ago was gone without a trace.

Lia looked at Klein and saw that the original gentleness in his azure eyes had completely disappeared, replaced by the condescending scrutiny of an Eighth-Circle Archmage.

“It seems the vacation is over just as it began,” Klein said softly, his fingertips lightly tapping the side of the boat.

“They’re interested in our theory. That means they have good taste,” Lia tried to lighten the mood.

“A hungry wolf is also very interested in the hunter’s gun, but that’s not appreciation.”

Klein stood up, and the small boat, under the control of his magical power, instantly turned around and sped towards the shore. He held out his hand to Lia, his palm dry and warm.

“Let’s go. Since they want to see the truth, let’s show them.”

Lia took his hand and stood up. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the tower to change first,” Klein helped her tidy the hair at her temples that had been messed up by the wind, his tone calm yet carrying an indisputable arrogance.

“At least in terms of presence, we can’t lose to a bunch of mechanics who only know how to play with scraps of iron.”

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