We hit the charts last week — let's keep it up~
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"Ferryman" chuckled. "The famous playwright Gerot from Sterk? Astal — a scholar with six popular operas under his belt." He paid no attention to the ferryman rowing the skiff ahead, since that person was also a core member of the Arcane Parliament in Sterk.
"A mage?" Lucian asked, thinking of his public identity, a trace of curiosity in his voice.
"Ferryman" turned to look at Lucian, respect evident in his tone. "Yes. He is a Shadow Master."
Lucian was somewhat surprised. "A Master?"
In the ancient magical empire, anyone who could be called a Master was, at minimum, a high-tier mage.
"Of course, while I don't know Astal's exact rank, he is unquestionably a high-tier mage. In fact, the Parliament has several similar figures in Sterk — all of whom hold prominent public identities, but simply spend long periods 'abroad,' taking turns returning to Sterk." "Ferryman" turned back to gaze at the rippling canal waters ahead. "The Parliament's strength in Sterk exceeds what you might imagine — it's just that powerhouses like them certainly won't intervene over trivial matters."
"The stronger the Parliament is in Sterk, the safer I feel," Lucian replied with a touch of humor. Sterk was important indeed, but having several high-tier mages stationed here alone was enough to confirm Rhein's description of the Arcane Parliament's expanding power.
Amid the bustling noise on both sides, the skiff cut through the water like an arrow and turned into a quiet, picturesque district of Sterk.
.........
The skiff stopped before a three-story villa with a spacious garden. Lucian and "Ferryman" climbed the somewhat slippery stone steps — dampened by the water — to the main gate.
"Mr. Tom, you've arrived." The guard at the gate clearly knew "Ferryman" and, without asking further questions, opened the iron gate straight away.
Lucian followed behind "Ferryman" with a smile, never having expected that the man would choose such an ordinary, ubiquitous name for himself — one that inevitably reminded him of that pitiful cat.
"Ferryman" — Tom strolled through the garden and across the lawn, remarking casually, "The more common a name is, the less attention it draws. And for people like us who can't walk in the light, attracting attention often means death. Heh, Mr. Evans, you were also wise enough to use a common name, weren't you?"
"In fact, sometimes being noticed and valued can actually be safer — as is the case for Mr. Astal." Lucian looked around at the seemingly unremarkable villa, unable to find a single trace of anything related to Arcane Magic.
Meow. A tabby cat raised its tail and crossed elegantly before the two of them, radiating pride.
Suddenly, it spoke in a raspy voice. "Astal says you should go straight to the second floor. He's researching arcane matters and doesn't have time to come down and greet you."
The cat spoke so abruptly that Lucian nearly jumped.
Tom answered with a note of wariness, "Yes, Lady Mercedes."
He then turned to Lucian. "This is Mr. Astal's Familiar — er, partner — Lady Mercedes."
"Good day, Lady Mercedes." Lucian greeted her courteously.
The tabby cat gave a dismissive huff in acknowledgment, then strolled unhurriedly into the adjacent garden.
When Tom and Lucian reached the villa's entrance hall in silence, Lucian idly glanced back — only to spot the proud tabby cat leaping about, trying to catch a butterfly, thoroughly enjoying herself with no signs of Arcane Magic in use whatsoever.
"Sometimes, humans can't enjoy happiness as much as animals can," Tom said softly, then pushed open the wooden door.
Lucian turned back and smiled. "But the wealth of life isn't limited to happiness alone."
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Bathed in sunlight, the second floor was bright and airy, yet as Lucian followed Tom through the corridor, he kept feeling as though the place was draped in Shadow — a sensation that arose inexplicably, perhaps triggered by the "Crown of the Sun" he wore.