In a remote corner of Antifler, a writhing sphere of dim light suddenly blazed into existence, stretching instantaneously into a strange, mysterious gate.
The gate flew open and Lucian's figure was hurled out. Then everything fell silent.
His mental domain unfurled like a tide, rapidly mapping the surroundings and feeding the information back into his mind.
It was a stretch of low hills and dense forest. Aside from a few cold-resistant animals that had been startled into fleeing, there was no sound at all.
Seeing this, Lucian's guarded vigilance finally relaxed. The "Dimensional Leap" scroll, primed and ready to activate at a touch, was returned to his storage ring.
The seventh-rank spell "Chaotic Teleportation," constantly active on the Hulm Crown Ring "Origin," was a form of spatial transit with no way to control the destination. It could have deposited Lucian straight into Antifler's White Maple Leaf Palace or the Grand Cathedral of Saint Francisco. At the same time, there was a non-trivial chance he would materialize in the middle of a busy street, drawing attention and chaos, and triggering a pursuit by the Church and the nobility. That was why Lucian had had to steel himself, ready to handle any number of complex scenarios. As it turned out, his luck wasn't half bad.
"Hm? Near Borak's villa? What a coincidence. Could the distance be below the minimum threshold for Chaotic Teleportation? It must be the spatial interference from the underground palace." Perhaps it was because he had taken on Borak's appearance—shared his blood, in a sense—that some mysterious connection had been forged. Lucian found that his landing point after Chaotic Teleportation was not far from the villa where he had hidden Borak's body. It was along the route he always took when heading to the Nobility District, passing through the road beneath these very hills.
Lucian concealed his form and sprinted toward Borak's villa.
"Well, since the teleportation brought me here, I might as well leave you a little something. I am an honest, trustworthy 'good demon,' after all."
Events had unfolded in a dizzying, unpredictable cascade. At this point, Lucian had no intention of growing arrogant or complacent, continuing to hide in Antifler and waiting for a convenient moment to carry out Borak's bloodline transformation procedure. After all, he hadn't actually collected those ten years of lifespan, had he?
Still, there was the matter of principle. Since he had benefited from Borak's body, he owed something in return. He had originally planned to send a adventurer to deliver it, but now he could save on that expense.
……
Inside the ancient villa of the Plantagenet family, a group of marquises and counts who had rushed over upon hearing the news wore grim expressions. The atmosphere was oppressively heavy, and some could not conceal their grief—their own beloved children had died in what was supposed to be the extremely safe Plantagenet Trial!
"…And so that is what happened. A mysterious high-ranking mage used an eerie polymorph to bypass our inspection, infiltrate the underground palace, summon an ancient demon from legend, temporarily seize control of His
Duke Ulrich of the Plantagenet family spoke with a sorrowful, gloomy face. "I understand your grief. Our family's Alten, Ralph, and His Grace the Lord of Glory's Crown himself all fell to that evil mage's clutches. The Plantagenet family will do everything in its power to meet your demands."
This was the "truth" he and Sophia had agreed upon—pinning everything on the mysterious high-ranking mage who had appeared from nowhere. As for Ralph, who knew a bit more of the real story, he had been placed on the "death list" before the underground palace's magic circle was breached.
All the other surviving noble children had participated in the plot to assassinate the prince. None of them would reveal the secret to anyone outside their families. Moreover, they had all been rendered unconscious by Lucian. What happened afterward could be freely woven by Sophia—for instance, the tale of how His Grace the Lord of Glory's Crown, who had not truly died when the evil mage tried to kill them, suddenly appeared, dragging his gravely wounded body free of the demon's projection and battling the mage in a desperate fight until outside reinforcements arrived.
Count Borde, who bore a certain resemblance to Duda, said with an iron-blue face: "Demands? I have only one demand—that you catch that damned mage! I want him to regret ever being born!" Duda had been his most beloved son.
The relatives of the other deceased noble children voiced the same sentiment. None of them fell out with the Plantagenet family. Those who had been allowed to send their younger generations to the underground palace trial were, after all, close allies of the Plantagenet family or minor nobles who acknowledged the Plantagenets as their liege lords. There was no reason to turn on each other over an unforeseen tragedy—that would only make their political enemies and rivals happy.
Besides, the Plantagenet family's losses far exceeded their own. Setting aside the two direct heirs, the Golden Knight who protected the family had also been killed. That was an enormous loss that no amount of resources could compensate.
Faced with this situation, the marquises and counts present were considerably more understanding.
"Rest assured—even if you did not want revenge, the Plantagenet family would never give it up. We will capture that evil mage and burn him to death inside the underground palace!" Ulrich declared his resolve for vengeance. "However, because that polymorph is so bizarre and the damned mage was extremely cautious, we currently cannot confirm his identity or aura, making it difficult to pursue him through normal means. That said, Nulenberg has gone to invite Cardinal
"That would be best." Duke Mecklen, Denny's father, nodded with a complicated expression. Denny may have been someone he found distasteful, but he was still his own son.
……
Given the gravity of the matter, ten minutes later the middle-aged Cardinal Inman, accompanied by the nobles, entered the underground palace's great hall. But the result left them deeply disappointed.
"That mage was very thorough. Apart from traces of Borak, he left almost nothing behind. Moreover, his final battle with Midian appears to have caused severe damage—the scene cannot be replayed usefully." Inman, dressed in a simple white robe, kept his expression calm with a trace of sorrow.
Count Borde's breathing grew heavy, the veins on his hands bulging prominently. "Reverend Inman, is there truly no other way to confirm his identity? Are we to let so many outstanding young lives be lost for nothing? Are we to simply stand by and watch that damned mage gloat in triumph?"
Every noble present could not accept such an outcome.
Inman pondered for several seconds. "Then I shall make a petition to the True God, beseeching Him to grant a revelation."
A ninth-rank prophetic Divine Art—the Rite of Divine Consultation!
"Thank you, Reverend Inman." Borde's excitement flared immediately.
Under the eager gaze of the assembled nobles, Inman clutched his Emblem of Truth, knelt in devout prayer, and prompted everyone else to kneel as well.
His soul seemed to sink into a mass of pure radiance. Inman murmured, "Sacred and mighty Lord, I pray You reveal the identity of the mysterious mage who appeared in the underground palace."
A voice descended from an unknown place, lofty and devoid of any emotion: "Sixth Circle. Magic Council. Magical items far surpassing those of an ordinary high-ranking mage."
"Is that all the guidance?" Inman thought in astonishment but dared not question it. How was he supposed to narrow down an identity from that? Many of the disciples of great Archanists and legendary mages possessed magical items far beyond what an ordinary high-ranking mage could muster.
The voice vanished, offering no further response.
After thinking for a moment, Inman rose and addressed the nobles: "This is a student of a legendary mage. His master interfered with my Divine Art, allowing me to receive only the barest of hints. I hope this may prove useful to you."
After hearing Inman's words, Ulrich bared his teeth in a sinister snarl: "The Magic Council has only a few hundred sixth-circle mages. Even if I have to eliminate them one by one, I will find him!"
……
Inside Antifler's White Maple Leaf Palace.
Sophia gazed with anticipation at the imposing, composed middle-aged man before her. "Father, do you know who that mysterious mage is?"
During the incident in the underground palace, she had witnessed her father,