Chapter 30: The Archmage’s Arrival and the Assassin’s Gamble

The teleportation array on the ground floor of the mage tower erupted with an intense burst of light without warning, far exceeding the brightness Klein typically produced.

Adèle, who had been sorting minerals by the entrance to the alchemy lab on the first floor, paused her movements.

The silver glow of the runes almost transformed the entire hall into daylight, while the immense and pure magical fluctuations rendered the air thick and heavy.

Adèle did not retreat; instead, she drew the staff tucked into her belt, her body sinking slightly as she adopted a defensive stance.

The light dissipated.

A slender, white-haired old man materialized at the center of the array, dressed in a simple grey mage robe and wearing a monocle, curiously surveying the tower’s interior furnishings.

Adèle’s body stiffened.

“Master Horace,” she uttered, retracting her staff before quickly stepping forward and bowing deeply.

The newcomer was Horace, Vice President of the Theoretical Council and a Ninth-Circle Archmage—one of the few individuals who stood at the apex of the entire kingdom’s magical community.

“You are Klein’s apprentice?” Horace inquired, adjusting his monocle as he scrutinized Adèle.

“Yes, Master. My name is Adèle.”

“Where is Klein?”

“My mentor received an emergency summons from the association three days ago and departed for the border to handle a beast riot,” Adèle replied respectfully.

“I understand,” Horace said, waving a dismissive hand. “I am here on his behalf, fulfilling a request.”

Adèle remained silent, patiently awaiting further explanation.

“To protect your troublesome junior sister,” Horace declared, a hint of playful exasperation coloring his words. “The boy ran off himself, leaving this old man to clean up his mess.”

A troublesome junior sister.

Lia.

Adèle immediately thought of *Principles of Calculus*, the book currently stirring up a storm in the royal capital.

“Has something… happened to Lia?”

“It nearly did,” Horace replied, offering no further explanation as he surveyed his surroundings. “For the next few days, I will be overseeing this tower’s defenses. You are to remain in your room and not wander. As for that young girl…”

Horace glanced upwards, towards the third floor.

“Let her continue her research; do not disturb her.”

“Yes, Master,” Adèle affirmed, not daring to ask further questions.

Horace dismissed her, striding directly to the center of the main hall. He closed his eyes, and a vast wave of psychic energy, like an invisible tide, instantly enveloped the entire mage tower.

Every magical node, every defensive circuit within the tower, became vividly clear in his perception.

He effortlessly located the highest control authority Klein had left behind, which still bore the unique imprint of Klein’s psychic energy.

Horace did not forcibly override it; instead, he merely affixed his own psychic signature, sending a signal requesting control.

***

A thousand miles away, outside a border fortress stained with blood.

Klein hovered mid-air, his right hand extended flatly forward.

Before him, a massive spatial rift, over thirty meters in diameter, manifested from thin air, savagely tearing through the charging horde of beasts.

Hundreds of low-level beasts were sucked into its maw, crushed into their most basic particles by the distorted spatial power before they could even utter a scream.

He sensed it.

A familiar yet potent psychic energy had appeared within his mage tower, touching his core defensive authority.

It was Horace.

Klein did not interfere, allowing the other’s psychic energy to sweep unimpeded, fully taking over control of the mage tower.

A layer of frost settled over his face.

Horace had gone there himself.

This signified that the Guardian’s Heart had been activated.

Lia had been attacked.

After he had left.

An uncontrollable fury surged from the depths of Klein’s heart.

He raised his other hand, aiming it at the Eighth-Tier beast at the rear of the monstrous horde, the Earth-Shaking Direbear, whose bulk resembled a small mountain.

“Strangulation.”

An invisible wave spread outwards.

The Earth-Shaking Direbear’s movements suddenly froze, and beneath its iron-hard fur, countless fine lines of blood emerged.

In the next instant, its colossal body silently disintegrated into tens of thousands of neat chunks of flesh under everyone’s gaze, collapsing with a thundering crash.

***

Inside the mage tower.

Horace opened his eyes.

“A little mouse has slipped in,” he murmured to himself.

He had sensed the faint, malevolent trace of psychic energy lingering within the tower. The trace was extremely subtle, clearly indicating the intruder’s exceptional skill in concealment.

Horace did not immediately begin his search.

He extended a finger, swiftly drawing runes in the air.

Complex spatial runes materialized out of thin air, then seamlessly merged into the tower’s walls, floor, and ceiling.

The space surrounding the entire mage tower began to subtly warp. From the outside, the tall tower still appeared to stand in its place, but in reality, it had been excised from the spatial fabric, forming an independent demiplane.

Now, this place was a prison, impossible to enter or leave.

Having completed all this, Horace then redirected his attention to the third floor.

Dozens of defensive spells, personally crafted by him, silently layered themselves both inside and outside Lia’s study.

Triggered Psychic Barrier.

Passive Soul Guard.

Malice Detection Trap.

Spatial Displacement Beacon.

…

These defensive measures, though layered one upon another, were perfectly concealed, not betraying even the slightest magical fluctuation.

Lia, in her study, remained utterly oblivious to all of this.

Meanwhile, at the far end of the third-floor corridor, in a shadowy corner.

A shadow, almost indistinguishable from the surrounding darkness, clung motionless to the wall.

Silent Shadow’s heart hammered wildly.

They felt as though they were on the verge of losing their mind.

Just moments ago, they had been preparing to escape through a minuscule spatial loophole they had created during their infiltration.

But that loophole had abruptly vanished.

No, not vanished.

It had been forcibly sealed by someone using a brutally powerful method.

They felt as though they had slammed into a wall made of the very world itself.

A Ninth-Circle Mage!

And a Ninth-Circle Archmage specializing in spatial magic!

There were only two Ninth-Circle Mages in the kingdom who mastered spatial magic: Horace and Eleonora. But Horace hadn’t been active for a long time; could it be Eleonora?

But regardless of who it was, the intelligence had made no mention of this whatsoever!

Assassinating an apprentice mentored by Klein offered a generous reward, and the risks were deemed controllable. Yet now, a Ninth-Circle Archmage had suddenly appeared by the target’s side!

This was no longer a matter of risk; this was a suicide mission!

Silent Shadow forced themselves to calm down.

They were trapped now.

The Ninth-Circle Mage had sealed the entire tower; they had become a bird in a cage.

To be found meant death.

They suppressed every trace of their aura, every psychic fluctuation, to the absolute extreme, as if their entire being had truly transformed into a shadow with no discernible depth.

They could not remain where they were.

The longer they stayed, the more discordant their presence would become with reality.

They had to move.

But where to?

A desperate, audacious idea sparked in their mind.

The most dangerous place was often the safest.

They began to inch along the base of the wall, moving towards a single direction with a slowness that was almost imperceptible.

That direction was Lia’s study.

They would hide right under the Ninth-Circle Mage’s nose.

They would stay by their target’s side.

This was a high-stakes gamble, betting on the blind spot in their opponent’s perception.

No one would expect a trapped assassin to not only refrain from fleeing the protected zone but actively move closer to it.

Their shadowy form, inch by agonizing inch, drew nearer to the candlelit door in the dim corridor.