Chapter 65: The Unseen Watcher and the Trapped Mage

Deep within the dense forest, Lia leaned her back against the rough bark of a massive tree, her lungs throbbing with the sharp sting of oxygen deprivation.

Only after confirming that the bone-deep sensation of being scrutinized had completely vanished did the extreme tension in her nerves finally release.

As the adrenaline receded, exhaustion washed over her, every limb steeped in a profound, aching weakness.

Even now, recalling that gaze sent a shiver of primal terror through her.

Had it not been for the All-Encompassing Truth, which revealed the world as fundamental particle streams, allowing her to detect a subtle informational disturbance alien to the natural environment, she would likely never have discovered the presence of another.

To be able to disregard the prying of a Seven-Ring spell…

The other party’s power was, at the very least, that of an Eight-Ring mage, or perhaps a Seven-Ring mage with an extraordinary command of their craft.

What purpose could an Eight-Ring mage possibly have, hiding away in such a desolate, forgotten ruin?

Lia forced her chaotic thoughts back into order, swiftly replaying the entire encounter.

The other party had clearly discovered her, yet had not made a move.

Instead, they had acted like a generous host, allowing her to seamlessly discover a hidden trove and claim a box filled with pristine antiques.

This behavior seemed far from malicious intent.

Rather, it felt more like… seeing a guest off?

Would an Eight-Ring mage truly need such an indirect method to usher away a mere girl who wasn’t even a formal mage?

The only plausible explanation was that they weren’t concerned about her specifically.

Instead, their apprehension stemmed from something—or someone—behind her.

Lia subconsciously touched the Guardian’s Heart pendant at her throat.

The Seven-Ring scrolls—particularly the two she had deployed earlier—were like colossal searchlights piercing the night, boldly projecting the unspoken message: ‘My backing reaches the heavens; do not provoke me.’

And the old monster lurking in the shadows had evidently seen it.

They dared not gamble.

They dared not gamble on whether killing her would summon an Eight-Ring, or even a Nine-Ring, entity to drag them from beneath the earth and grind them to dust.

Thus, with a box of fakes, they had courteously escorted her out.

Having deciphered this layer of meaning, the fear born of the unknown in Lia’s heart swiftly transformed into a fervent, almost ecstatic, excitement.

Yes, excitement.

It was the same prickling scalp and full-body tremor she had experienced in her previous life when confronted with an unprecedented new idea capable of overturning existing theories, or when fully grasping a profound theory that explained the world.

Or, to put it more simply: ‘Aha! Yes! I understand!’

A high-level mage, who had lived for an unknown number of years, possessed magic capable of piercing Seven-Ring concealment spells, yet was either too weak or too cautious to act against a junior whose background was unclear.

This, in itself, was a profound secret.

Just then, the world around her abruptly sprang to life.

The rustling of wind through the leaves, the distant growl of a beast, her own pounding heartbeat and ragged breaths… countless isolated sounds breached their dam in an instant, flooding her ears.

The effect of Absolute Silence had vanished.

The All-Encompassing Truth’s effect followed suit, disappearing as well.

Lia’s body instinctively stiffened, then slowly relaxed, as crucial details surfaced in her mind: the gaze had vanished shortly after she entered the dense forest, yet the scroll’s effects had only just concluded.

The timing did not align.

Was the other party’s sensory range limited solely to the valley? Or had they, seeing her turn back, confidently withdrawn their gaze?

Lia leaned towards the former explanation.

No matter how potent a perception spell, it could not extend indefinitely.

That old individual was very likely trapped within the valley by something, unable to depart.

A powerful prisoner?

Lia’s eyes gleamed.

She rose, brushed the dust from her clothes, and cast a glance back towards the Silent Valley.

‘Just leave like this?’

‘What a joke.’

‘Any seasoned angler knows that after casting bait, you must patiently wait; there’s no sense in reeling in and fleeing the moment the float dips dramatically.’

‘If someone had laid such an earth-shattering, heavy trap for her, she wouldn’t be worthy of the adrenaline that had surged through her if she didn’t uncover every last detail of this ‘fish’s’ ancestry.’

‘Of course, a direct confrontation would be the worst possible move.’

‘Since the other party already knew of her presence, returning now would be walking straight into a trap.’

‘A different approach was necessary.’

Having made up her mind, Lia lingered no longer, turning to walk towards Fallen Leaf Town.

***

The following day, Fallen Leaf Town.

Lia donned a simple linen dress, tying her hair into a casual ponytail, presenting herself as an ordinary girl from the neighborhood.

At the town’s sole small tavern, she ordered a watered-down ale, settling into a corner to quietly listen to the casual chatter of mercenaries and townsfolk.

“Did you hear? The mine to the north collapsed again; several poor souls were crushed to death.”

“This year’s harvest is ridiculously bad, yet the Lord’s taxes have increased by another tenth. Life’s becoming impossible.”

“Hey, any of you brave enough to take a stroll through Silent Valley? I hear there’s a huge treasure in there,” a drunken mercenary slurred loudly.

The moment the words left his lips, a brief, stunned silence fell over the noisy tavern.

“Are you mad? You go in there, you don’t come out alive.”

“Exactly. My grandfather’s grandfather said that place was cursed; no one who’s gone in has ever come back alive.”

Lia calmly sipped her insipid ale, meticulously noting each fragmented piece of information.

She spent the entire morning wandering through the town’s blacksmith forge, general store, and even the tailor’s shop, engaging in casual, intermittent conversations with those who appeared elderly and sufficiently talkative.

Their talks ranged from the weather to harvests, from the affairs of one family to the gossip of another.

Ultimately, an old man mending a fishing net with hands scarred and calloused from years of labor, basking in the sun by the town’s entrance, provided her with the day’s most valuable intelligence.

The old man, named Barker, was the town’s former guard, having lived there for over seventy years.

“Silent Valley?” The old man’s eyes turned towards her, seemingly lost in distant memories. “Oh, that cursed place… Young lady, whatever you do, don’t be foolish enough to go there.”

“I’m just curious,” Lia replied, offering a small pouch of warm oatcakes. “I heard people say there’s an ancient city inside. Is that true?”

The aroma of the oatcakes delighted the old man. He took them, then continued, “It’s true, but it’s no good place. Back when I was a guard, I saw two ‘mage adults’ go there seeking adventure.”

Lia’s mind sharpened. “Did they… ever come out?”

The old man scoffed, revealing a mouth full of yellowed teeth.

“Not a single one. I remember clearly. The first time was just a few years after I became a guard—a grand adult in a fancy mage robe, full of swagger, went into the valley and was never seen again!

The second time, nearly forty years later, when I was already a grandfather, another one came, and it was the same story.”

The old man pointed towards the town’s sole entrance and exit. “That valley only has one opening. If they’d come out, there’s no way I wouldn’t know. That place, it devours people.”

Lia silently filed away this information, though she didn’t fully credit it.

An ordinary person wouldn’t be able to distinguish the insignia on a mage’s robe, nor could they perceive a spellcaster’s true strength.

The “mage adults” he spoke of might very well have been mere apprentices.

Such vague oral histories held limited reference value.

She thanked him and was about to leave when her peripheral vision suddenly froze.

At the end of the street, a man clad in dark grey leather armor flashed past, turning into another alleyway.

That build, that agile stride, the profile of his face…

It was the Three-Ring Mage she had seen in the ruins yesterday!

Hadn’t he vanished into the castle’s basement?

Yet that basement had only contained an ancient skeleton with a masked face; there had been no sign of him!

How could he possibly be here?

Could that basement have another exit, one that led directly to the vicinity of the town?

And if the basement’s treasure was merely a fabrication by that old monster, then what about this Three-Ring Mage?

What was his true identity?

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