After leaving behind "the end of the betrayer," Lucian and the Sage quickly departed Morning Star's residence and melted into the darkness, lest the Church corner them. In truth, the Tribunal had grown familiar with the Professor's operational style after one prior experience and had their suspicions. They had suspected that the Professor might deliberately show himself in arcane circles to expose their planted spies, recreating the Fire Wolf incident all over again. The Tribunal had even planned to use several spies as bait to lay a trap — the news of the Arcane Council's headquarters location and the Professor's reappearance would spread through mercury and other channels to other arcane circles, which also harbored spies who would pass similar intelligence to the Night Watch. However, the Tribunal hadn't expected the Professor to lock onto Morning Star immediately, acting decisively within half an hour of his secret intelligence transmission — clearly, he had been monitoring him all along. Meanwhile, the exposure of the Sage's identity and the Clown's movements led the Tribunal's person-in-charge to believe that the Professor's trap was aimed at the Clown, at the pursuing Night Watch. So their focus shifted, and they had no time to set up the trap, arranging only two ordinary Night Watch members for covert protection and vigilance, which Lucian easily evaded before killing Morning Star.
Lucian and the Sage wound through the darkness, zigzagging across several blocks before arriving at a secret hiding spot the Sage had established a few years prior.
"Professor, I didn't expect that besides astrology and elements, you're also quite proficient in necromancy." The Sage finally felt at ease and sighed with emotion. Having lost too much blood and not yet having reached quasi-knight level, his voice was quite weak.
Previously, when he had witnessed Lucian use a necromantic magic circle of human body synthesis to combine one-third of his blood with collected limbs and body parts from the Black Forest, forging a body indistinguishable from a real person, the Sage had been genuinely shaken to his core. This was truly treading upon the domain of a true God, and for him — growing older by the day — it deepened his fascination with the wondrous mysteries of magic, further solidifying his resolve to join the Arcane Council.
Lucian maintained his hoarse voice disguise and smiled slightly: "Proficient is still far from accurate. I only started making up for this weakness a little over a year ago. But the Council has made tremendous progress in human body synthesis research — for instance, the cellular memory studies I drew upon can fully leverage the effect of your blood. With the current level of the Church's Divine Arts in similar areas, they absolutely cannot tell it's a fake corpse. Unless some Cardinal uses ninth-tier or higher Divine Arts to question the 'Gods' or regress scenes to verify."
Over a year of research, combined with a solid foundation in Arcane Arts and magic, meant that Lucian — now a fourth-circle mage — was no worse than Hunter had been when performing human body synthesis back in the day. Moreover, thanks to advances in Arcane Arts and magic, his human body synthesis was even closer to reality.
"Far from proficient? Then what would true mastery of necromancy look like?" Even in his weakened state, the Sage couldn't help but voice his surprise. Then he recalled something: "Over two years ago, Felipe Carneiro — who suddenly jumped from near the bottom of the purification rankings to ninety-first — is a necromancer. And when his ranking rose, he was still only fifth-circle, only advancing to high-tier afterward. Professor, is the level of mastery you're referring to his caliber?" As Altor City Hall's "former" chief administrator, Baron Klein had the qualifications to learn the details of the purification rankings.
"When it comes to necromancy, I have to admit he is very proficient." Regardless of how strained his relationship with Felipe was, Lucian would not carelessly belittle him — the man truly was a rare genius in necromancy. Moreover, Felipe was already high-tier, and although many young mages within the Arcane Council compared Lucian to him, Lucian was quite clear about the gap between them. Progression in magic grew harder the further one went, with several bottleneck stages being particularly grueling. At the transition from fifth circle to high-tier, one already needed the assistance of magic rituals, and without sufficient Arcane and magic accumulation, the failure rate was extremely high.
Then Lucian changed the subject: "Sage, I'm sorry for dragging you into this without explaining the details. Whether the Clown would actually kill you, whether the gap between the Night Watch and him was wide enough for me to rescue you — these were all unknowns, placing you in tremendous danger. For this, I am deeply apologetic." Because he feared that once the Clown took control, he might extract certain details, Lucian had never mentioned the trap to the Sage at all, only hinting that great danger awaited tonight and that he would save him.
"It's nothing, Professor. I've always trusted your wisdom. And to escape this dark, oppressive life and embark on a new path — how could that not cost something?" Because Lucian had hinted beforehand, the Sage had nodded thoughtfully at the time. Upon seeing the Clown, he had roughly understood the situation and played along with a performance of aristocratic pride and hypocrisy. So he was quite philosophical about it. He chuckled and added, "Besides, I'm sure you had other arrangements, Professor. You wouldn't have let me actually die."
Lucian nodded slightly. Camille had indeed been nearby at the time. "Regardless, placing you in tremendous danger was not a good thing. The items obtained from Morning Star will be left with you, Sage, as compensation. Don't refuse — this is a principle of mine. Now, take the potion and rest for a while, then leave Altor as soon as possible."
"Very well, Professor. I feel much more at ease now." After becoming an official mage, the pressure on the Sage had only grown. His position as chief administrator and his title of baron had brought him no glory or enjoyment — instead, they had filled him with an ineffable sense of dread. Combined with his advancing age, he had long harbored the desire to cast everything aside and pursue the mysteries of magic. His family already had successors, after all. So this "death," in a sense, had helped him find liberation.
……
Inside Ratasha Palace, Natasha — her expression somber and cold — gave a perfunctory embrace to Duke Vaolet, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, and comforted him: "Father, don't worry about me. I'll recover soon. Rest assured, have I not endured enough blows and trials? I believe this is the Lord's test of me. Mother and the others will be watching over me fondly from Heavenly Mountain, so I will live on well, live on happily — live on for all of you."
"Poor little Natasha. I believe in your resilience, but don't bottle things up inside." Duke Vaolet stroked her hair tenderly. The poor child must be hurting terribly — she had even forgotten that her mother was a mage. How could her soul possibly go to Heavenly Mountain? But little Natasha truly was pitiable. Having just emerged from an emotionally closed-off state, both of her brief romances had ended badly. What reassured the Duke, though, was that his daughter's love for Lucian Evans proved she didn't exclusively prefer women — at most, she simply hadn't had the chance to fall for a man before. So going forward, he shouldn't push her too hard, lest she head in the opposite direction.
"Father, please allow me some quiet time alone tonight." Natasha looked up and "tried" to smile, though her heart was genuinely troubled. No one wanted to deceive their dearest family members, but her previous relationship had wounded her too deeply, and for the time being, her feelings toward women still outweighed those toward men. So she needed a good stretch of quiet to sort out her heart.
Duke Vaolet nodded and touched her hair once more: "Natasha, I believe you'll get through this."
Watching Natasha leave with Camille and several guards heading back toward the "War Gallery," the Duke's expression suddenly shifted: "She won't… after this blow, end up liking neither women nor men, will she?"
In the War Gallery, Camille sat quietly on the sofa while Natasha — in a somewhat sour mood — vented through the Piano. Passionate, sorrowful melodies echoed over and over.
"That's the best I've ever heard you play 'Pathétique.' But could you stop for a moment and tell me what happened inside the villa? Did the Clown and the Night Watch discover anything?"
A guard had not exited the room and instead stood beside the Piano, speaking to Natasha in a very familiar tone, teasing her in an attempt to lift her spirits.
Natasha lifted her fingers from the keys, took a deep breath, and recovered her composure: "Lucian, your puppet was well-crafted. They didn't detect a thing." This guard was Lucian in disguise.
After parting ways with the Sage, he had secretly rendezvoused with Camille, and with her and Natasha's cover, infiltrated Ratasha Palace — hiding in this seemingly dangerous location.
"I'm quite confident in a puppet made with a quarter of my blood. What I'm concerned about is your performance, Natasha. If you'd burst out laughing in the middle of sorrowfully reciting 'words of love,' the whole thing would have been thoroughly ruined." Lucian understood that Natasha was feeling down about deceiving the Duke, so he cracked a joke.
Natasha snorted twice: "Am I really the kind of person who can't control herself? I think I could have gone on to perform opera! Though that sort of role doesn't quite suit me. I should be more like this…" Before she could finish, Natasha's body flickered, and she materialized directly in front of Lucian. Then she placed her right hand over her heart, lowered her head slightly, and gazed into Lucian's eyes from very close range, adopting a masculine posture as she said "affectionately": "Every time I see the moonlight, I think of you." Their eyes locked, their breathing almost audible. For reasons neither could explain, Lucian and Natasha — both well accustomed to this sort of joking — felt a sudden discomfort upon meeting each other's beautiful, profound eyes.
Natasha gave a dry laugh and retreated a step, while Lucian seized the chance to sidestep as well.
"By the way, Lucian — why didn't you let me kill the Clown with a single strike, but instead let him escape gravely wounded and on the verge of death? Although I'm confident he won't survive long, there's always the possibility of unexpected developments." Natasha genuinely admired the Clown's relentless pursuit of evil to a degree, but when facing a madman who played by no rules, admiration could not alter one's stance. What if one day, in his quest to eliminate evil, the Clown kidnapped Joel and other ordinary people as leverage? So toward the Clown, Natasha's resolve to kill was unwavering. Had Lucian not repeatedly instructed her, she — not having been consumed by "rage" at that moment — would never have let her blade miss by even a fraction.
Lucian smiled with a hint of mystery: "I'm waiting for his appearance."
"His?" Natasha asked, puzzled.
Lucian chuckled, speaking in a deliberately vague manner: "Although he and I haven't met this time, I believe I can guess his thoughts. The smooth progress of this affair was thanks in large part to his 'assistance.'"
"Can you not tell me?" Natasha had no interest in badgering someone into revealing their secrets.
Lucian shook his head: "It's better if you don't know. But I will tell you the outcome."
"How would you know the outcome?" Natasha found Lucian's methods increasingly mysterious since his return from the Arcane Council.
Lucian smiled but said nothing.
……
After arranging for Lucian to hide in an empty room somewhere in the War Gallery, Natasha leaned back in her chair with a somewhat somber expression, gazing at the silver moon outside the window. Although she and Lucian were good friends, this affair had laid bare the faint barrier between a mage and a noble who believed in the true God — impossible to deny or pretend away.
Camille, who had gone out at some point, pushed open the door and slowly walked in.
"Aunt Camille, is there any new intelligence from outside?" Natasha asked without turning her head.
A peculiar expression appeared on Camille's stern face: "The Professor appeared again, leaving behind 'the end of the betrayer.' The Night Watch have concluded that he was the one who killed the great musician and that he orchestrated the frame-up of the Clown. Of course, the Clown's prior violation of the agreement between the Church and the nobility should also be punishable by death."
Natasha paused, and her expression softened.