Chapter 31: Horace’s Gambit

Inside the study, Lia remained engrossed in organizing her derivation of universal gravitation.

She remained utterly oblivious to the world outside.

***

The third-floor corridor lay shrouded in dimness, with only the faint moonlight filtering through the far window casting long, spectral shadows across the floor.

After Horace had taken control of the mage tower, he wove his immense mental power into an invisible, expansive net, enveloping every inch of space within.

Yet, at the entrance to the third-floor study, he deliberately left a defensive aperture, almost imperceptible to the senses.

It was not a flaw, but a snare.

A trap laid for prey to unwittingly stumble into.

Concealed within the shadows, Silent Shadow minimized their presence to an absolute whisper.

They could sense a colossal, despair-inducing mental force sweeping through the tower, yet they more keenly perceived the subtle vulnerability.

A weak point in the spatial defenses, located directly at the target room’s threshold.

They did not hesitate for a moment.

This was their sole path to survival.

The nine-ring mage surely believed they would desperately flee from the target, never anticipating them to act in direct defiance.

Their body transformed into a faint, almost indiscernible shadow, clinging to the wall, utterly silent, as they slowly crept towards Lia’s study door.

The very instant their shadow was about to brush against the wooden door.

The air in the corridor solidified.

“I have you, little rat.”

An ancient voice resonated through the deserted corridor.

Every hair on Silent Shadow’s body stood on end.

They felt the surrounding space solidify into something akin to steel in an instant.

They were locked down.

An irresistible spatial pressure converged from all directions, threatening to crush them to dust.

They refused to simply await their demise.

A black emblem, hidden within their robes, shattered of its own accord.

A twisted shadow force instantly enveloped them, forcibly tearing open a fleeting fissure within the steel-like spatial confinement.

They had escaped the initial strangulation.

Yet they knew the next assault would follow swiftly.

No time remained for thought; the primal instinct for survival impelled them to make their only choice.

Bang!

Lia’s study door was violently flung open by an immense force.

Lia startled at the sudden, deafening crash, lifting her head from the pile of parchments to see a figure entirely cloaked in black robes burst into the room.

“Who are you?”

‘This girl possesses potent defensive enchantments, but such formidable protection must surely harbor a vulnerability, typically manifesting in physical defense.’

The thought flashed and vanished.

The cloaked figure offered no reply.

With a swift lunge, they appeared behind Lia, and a frigid blade instantly pressed against her throat.

Lia’s body went rigid.

The metallic chill spread rapidly across her skin, permeating her entire being.

In her two lives combined, this was the first time a blade had been held to her throat.

Her mind went utterly blank.

“Do not move.”

A hoarse voice rasped from behind her ear.

Immediately afterward, at the study’s entrance, space itself twisted, and Horace’s figure emerged from within.

He cast a glance at the captive Lia, then at the cloaked assassin, his face devoid of any discernible expression.

“A swift reaction, and you even used a Shadowmeld Emblem to preserve your life.

It seems you are indeed Silent Shadow.”

The moment the cloaked assassin saw Horace, their entire body tensed.

It wasn’t Eleonora.

It was Horace.

Horace, the Vice-President of the Theoretical Council, a Nine-Ring Archmage, who had not openly made a move in the Royal Capital for decades.

Why would Klein’s apprentice warrant the personal guardianship of an old monster of this caliber?

“Master Horace,” Silent Shadow’s voice grew even hoarser, “I have no intention of making an enemy of you.

My target is solely her.”

“You are not in a position to negotiate now.”

Horace took a step forward.

The blade pressed tighter against Lia’s throat, yet Silent Shadow failed to notice a magical shield that had silently materialized between the blade and her skin.

“Do not come closer!” Silent Shadow snarled.

“Take another step, and I will kill her!

I care not whose apprentice she is; a dead genius is nothing more than dust!”

Lia felt a prickling pain on her neck, finally snapping out of her dazed stupor.

She had become a hostage.

She strove to maintain her composure, her peripheral vision darting towards Horace.

‘Surely this esteemed elder would consider her small life.’

However, Horace merely adjusted his monocle.

“Do you truly believe threatening me with her will prove effective?”

Silent Shadow froze.

Lia also froze.

‘What kind of line is that? The script isn’t supposed to go like this!’

“A mind capable of conceiving calculus is indeed precious,” Horace continued, his tone unnervingly dispassionate, “but if, to protect her, I were to release a gutter rat daring to assassinate a mage apprentice in the Royal Capital, potentially drawing even more rodents coveting her talents…”

He raised a hand, pointing towards Silent Shadow.

“Then I would rather bear the cost of losing her now, and then meticulously root out and crush every single one of you rats, along with everyone behind you.”

The temperature throughout the study seemed to plummet to freezing.

Silent Shadow felt as though they faced not a mage, but an emotionless monstrosity.

Lia’s heart plummeted as well.

“You are insane!” Silent Shadow shrieked.

“You leave me no choice.”

At Horace’s fingertip, a shimmering point of silver spatial energy began to coalesce.

Silent Shadow knew there was no retreat left for them.

Horace had sealed the entire tower; they could not escape.

This old man cared nothing for the hostage’s life or death.

A surge of desperate malevolence welled up from the depths of their heart.

‘If escape is impossible, then we shall all perish together!’

“Then let her become my sacrifice!”

Abandoning any defense against Horace, they channeled all their remaining magic into a terrifying psychic assault, pouring it unreservedly into Lia, who was mere inches away, while simultaneously slashing forcefully with the blade in their hand!

They had prepared for two eventualities: if the ornament possessed some physical defense, its magical defense would surely be weaker; conversely, if it specialized in magical defense, the blade in their hand would claim the hostage.

However, they had miscalculated.

Hum!

The silver crystal pendant on Lia’s chest erupted with a dazzling silver light.

A spherical barrier, even more solid and robust than before, instantly enveloped Lia.

Silent Shadow’s full-force strike, capable of shattering an eight-ring mage’s mind sea, crashed against the barrier like an unyielding Wall of Lamentations, instantly annihilating itself.

The blade in their hand was likewise flung away the moment the barrier expanded, causing their body to lose balance.

Nothing had truly occurred.

Silent Shadow’s eyes widened, their face beneath the hood contorted with incredulous horror.

‘How could this be?’

‘While ornaments capable of defending against both physical and magical attacks exist, they are exceedingly rare.

For one to withstand my desperate, all-out magical assault while simultaneously deflecting a physical strike is even more unheard of.

I never imagined such an artifact would be found on an apprentice.’

Their final hope shattered.

“Fool.”

Horace’s voice echoed in their ear.

The next second, a silver thread, so fine it was almost imperceptible, silently pierced Silent Shadow’s brow.

The cloaked assassin’s body froze in place, the light in their eyes rapidly dimming.

Subsequently, their body began to decompose, inch by inch, from the point where the silver thread had pierced it, transforming into the most minuscule particles and dissolving into the air.

Not even a speck of dust remained.

Silence descended upon the room once more.

The silver protective barrier slowly dissipated.

Lia still maintained the posture of one held hostage, feeling the lingering prickle on her neck and the faint breeze stirred by the disappearance of the figure behind her.

She stiffly turned her head, finding no one behind her.

Her gaze then fell upon Horace.

The old man was unhurriedly retracting his finger, as if he had merely crushed a fly.