Chapter 110: Lia’s Departure and Roton’s Devious Plan

A faint, lingering warmth on Lia Farrien’s cheeks attested to Klein’s smile, a sensation that stubbornly refused to fade.

She hastily retreated from the study to her own chambers, settling herself at the writing desk.

Unfolding a fresh sheet of parchment, she dipped her pen into the inkwell, its tip hovering just above the paper.

The letter’s contents were simple: a notification that she had secured a leave of absence from Master Klein and would soon depart for Auxerre City.

Once finished, she folded the letter, slipped it into an envelope, and sealed it with wax.

The following day, Lia Farrien made her way to the Royal Capital’s postal office.

The place buzzed with activity; messengers hurried to and fro, gathering intelligence from across the kingdom and dispatching it anew.

She handed the letter to the clerk, paid the postage, and watched as it was dropped into a mailbag bound for the Eastern Provinces.

Over the next few days, Lia Farrien began to pack her belongings.

Her luggage was sparse: a few changes of clothes and some well-worn books. Adèle, ever thoughtful, had once more prepared a collection of alchemical potions for her journey.

Categorized and nestled in small boxes, they ranged from salves for external wounds to invigorating elixirs, a veritable mobile apothecary.

The day of her departure was a clear winter morning. The sun shone brightly, yet offered no warmth. A sleek, black magic carriage awaited outside the Mage Tower.

Its design was far more spacious than those used by ordinary nobles.

The carriage walls bore no family crests, only subtle silver magic patterns that shimmered faintly with arcane energy in the sunlight, hinting at its extraordinary origins.

Adèle enveloped Lia Farrien in a warm embrace.

“Be careful on your journey. If you encounter any trouble you can’t resolve, crush this.”

She pressed a rune, shimmering with spatial fluctuations, into Lia Farrien’s palm. “It will teleport you directly back to the tower. Consider it your last resort for survival.”

Lia Farrien accepted the rune, nodding solemnly.

“Thank you, Adèle.”

Klein stood nearby, clad today in a simple black robe. He extended a grey cloth bag, its opening secured with a magical cord. Inside were some newly crafted scrolls, prepared for any unforeseen circumstances.

Lia Farrien took it, and an astonishing weight settled into her hands.

“I’m leaving,” she bid them farewell.

Klein gazed at her intently, uttering only a single word.

“Mm.”

Lia Farrien turned and stepped onto the carriage’s footboard. As the carriage door closed, she glimpsed Klein through the window, standing solitary.

The winter sun outlined his form, his figure stark against the cold wind. The coachman flicked the reins, and the carriage silently began to move, smoothly merging into the Royal Capital’s bustling traffic.

***

Meanwhile, a thousand miles away in Leo City, at Farrien Manor.

Lia Farrien’s uncle, Roton Farrien, held the letter that had just arrived from the Royal Capital. He tore open the envelope, his eyes quickly scanning the elegant yet detached handwriting on the parchment.

“No? She actually managed to get leave??”

Roton Farrien’s movements paused. He had assumed that a Grand Mage like Klein, renowned for his strictness, would keep his apprentices under the tightest discipline, making holidays like the New Year, a mere secular festival, utterly impossible.

It seemed Master Klein was not as unapproachable as rumored. Perhaps he simply disdained to concern himself with the holiday of an insignificant apprentice.

‘What a pity he hadn’t left a profound positive impression on Master Klein back then; otherwise, he wouldn’t need to resort to such complicated schemes now.’

He stared at the letter, a cruel glint flashing in his eyes, then crumpled it into a ball and tossed it into the charcoal-burning fireplace beside him.

The paper instantly curled, consumed by the flames, turning into a wisp of black ash, much like the fate his niece was soon to face.

Just then, a soft knock sounded at the study door.

“My lord, Master Maas has arrived,” a servant’s voice announced from outside.

Roton Farrien instantly wiped away his grim expression, adjusted his collar, and adopted a humble yet eager demeanor, hurrying out of the study to greet him.

Master Maas was his greatest acquisition in recent months—a genuine Five-Ring Mage, a figure whose presence alone could command absolute authority in a border town like Leo City.

If he could truly bind this influential figure to the Farrien family’s cause, then not only would a mere Leo City heed his words, but even the entire Eastern Provinces would bend to Roton Farrien’s will.

A lavish feast had been meticulously prepared. Fine crystal goblets held amber ale, and the sizzling, roasted leg of a fierce beast exuded a rich aroma.

Roton Farrien frequently raised his cup to Maas, his words overflowing with reverence and flattery for the mage.

“Master Maas, your condescension to visit our humble Leo City truly brings light to this small town!”

“Were it not for your presence, how could insignificant merchants like us ever sleep soundly?”

Maas savored such adulation. Leaning back in the soft chair, he indulged in the fine wine and flattery, feeling quite pleased with this shrewd merchant.

After several rounds of drinks, Roton Farrien suddenly raised his goblet and let out a long sigh.

The sigh was strikingly out of place amidst the lively banquet hall.

Maas set down his goblet and looked at Roton Farrien.

“Mister Roton, you’ve offered such lavish hospitality today, yet why the sighs of sorrow?”

Roton Farrien offered a bitter smile, then took another large gulp of wine.

“Master, please forgive my indiscretion. It’s merely some family troubles; I shouldn’t have brought them up to disturb your enjoyment.”

“Speak freely,” Maas said, intrigued. “In this Leo City, what could possibly trouble a man like you, Mister Roton?”

“Alas…” Roton Farrien, emboldened by the wine, wore a distressed expression.

“It’s nothing but my good-for-nothing niece. Her parents died young, and I kindly took her in, raised her, and even sent her to the Royal Capital for schooling.

But now her wings have grown strong, and she actually wants to return and contend with me for the family inheritance.”

He carefully observed Maas’s reaction before continuing,

“By rights, legally, she does indeed have that claim. But the Farrien family’s assets are all things I’ve painstakingly built up over these past few years. What connection does she have to them? I hear she’s already on her way back.”

“It’s not that I fear her,” Roton Farrien deftly shifted his narrative, positioning himself as someone concerned for Maas’s interests.

“My concern is that once she returns, she’ll rely on the smattering of knowledge she gained in the Royal Capital and imagine Leo City, or rather, this old man, to be ten thousand times inferior.

Wouldn’t trying to reason with her then just be inviting trouble?

What if she stirs up discord upon her return, disrupting the city’s tranquility, or even worse… jeopardizing my efforts to procure materials for you, Master, thus spoiling your valuable time? That would truly be my gravest sin.”

Maas listened, then chuckled dismissively.

“I thought it was something significant.” He lifted his goblet, gently swirling the liquid within.

“Merely an ignorant young girl. Rest assured, she won’t affect me.” He took a sip, then spoke languidly. “If you’re truly worried, I could offer you a small favor.”

Roton Farrien immediately leaned closer, appearing eager to listen.

“I can make her forget some things.” Maas’s fingertip traced the rim of his goblet, his tone nonchalant.

“I came to Leo City for peace and quiet, not to witness the domestic squabbles of you merchants.

Rather than waiting for her to return and cause trouble, it would be better if she couldn’t recall those inconvenient thoughts from the very beginning.

For instance, making her forget she even has a claim to the family inheritance. Wouldn’t that resolve everything once and for all?”

Pure ecstasy erupted in Roton Farrien’s eyes. He sprang to his feet, bowing deeply to Maas.

“Master! You… you are truly like a second parent to me! If this can be done, it would be an immense help!”

“A trifle.” Maas waved a dismissive hand.

“Once the banquet concludes, I’ll have a servant provide you with my niece’s name and a description of her appearance!” Roton Farrien’s posture was exceedingly humble as he solemnly pledged.

“Master, rest assured, the tribute I promised you earlier will be doubled, starting next month!”

“Oh?” Maas raised an eyebrow, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.

‘With this sum, he could acquire even more expensive materials, delving deeper into the profound academic theories of his idol.’

The thought of gaining a deeper understanding of those truly groundbreaking theories ignited a fervent warmth within him.

The banquet’s atmosphere once again grew lively. The two men clinked glasses, each with their own designs, and eventually departed, fully content.