After endless anticipation—and behind-the-scenes maneuvering by various dark factions—the highly publicized Central Domain Young Wizard Talent Competition had finally begun.
The venue was chosen to be the Walker Plains in the Central Domain.
This area lay close to the Central Domain capital. Several major schools all had branch offices here, allowing them to mobilize large forces at a moment's notice to suppress any contingencies.
Thanks to the miraculous power of wizards, in just a few short months, a brand-new competition arena had been constructed right in the heart of the Walker Plains.
In fact, even before the competition officially started, some wizards had already moved in to settle and do business, and several small marketplaces had sprung up around the arena.
These numerous markets eventually merged together, forming the embryo of a wizard city.
Truth be told, if this competition concluded smoothly and successfully, the War Committee did intend to hold such events on a fixed schedule going forward. If that happened, this place could very well become a thriving new wizard city—perhaps even surpassing the capitals of the four domains.
……
Waves of wizards surged in from all directions, quickly filling the place to capacity.
Watching this bustling spectacle, Weilin let out a deep sigh, pulled his cloak lower, and hurried into one of the streets.
He walked fast, winding through twists and turns, until he arrived in front of a residence and knocked on the door.
Crack! The door split open a sliver, and a wary eye peered through the gap. Upon recognizing Weilin, the eye vanished into the darkness, and the door was pulled open.
Weilin slipped sideways through the gap, not letting the door open all the way.
Inside was a small room. A dim oil lamp cast a flickering glow, and Ailin, Venas, and Memphis were all waiting quietly.
Memphis looked the most wretched of the bunch. Not only was his body wrapped in layers of black bandages—making him look like a mummy—but his ears had been pierced by enormous nails, leaving gaping holes.
"Hey! I'm asking—when exactly can I get out of this miserable state?"
Memphis held up his bandaged hands and protested in a raspy voice, like a desiccated corpse.
As a former noble of the dark races, he could no longer endure this underground-rat existence.
"Just wait a while longer. This place is under constant surveillance by a bloodline-aura detection magical array. You can't reveal the fact that you're a dark elf—even if you're on our side!"
Weilin explained with a furrowed brow.
"Never mind him! He's just been cooped up too long and wants to go outside for some air!" Venas glanced at Memphis. "My Lord, what's the situation outside?"
Ailin also adopted an attentive expression.
"There are far too many wizards gathered here. I haven't been able to spot Lombarton and the others either—they've most likely altered their appearances or gone into hiding."
Weilin smiled bitterly. "I'm afraid the only chance we'll have to catch them is at the competition itself."
"The competition? Do you mean—you're planning to enter that Wizard Talent Competition?" Ailin seized on the key point immediately.
"That's right. I'm only in my thirties, and the Enhanced Warrior path is technically a branch of ancient wizardry, so I do qualify to participate!"
Weilin chuckled.
"It's only at the competition that I might run into Lombarton and try to convince him to turn back!"
Weilin murmured these words to himself. Venas and Ailin, who knew all too well about this Child of Destiny's tendency toward idealism, could only sigh inwardly in unison.
To be honest, there was nothing wrong with the Child of Destiny except that he was far too kind.
In the Dark Polar Domain, such kindness was the most dangerous thing of all. Sooner or later, Weilin would pay the price for it.
Ailin and Venas exchanged a glance, as though some decision had been made.
Completely oblivious to this, Weilin was still lamenting Lombarton's situation.
In his memories, Lombarton had always been a good kid. How had things come to this?
……
At the registration desk, a pale-faced wizard in green robes walked out.
"Heh heh! Leilin—and Weilin—I'm coming!"
Lombarton's appearance had changed drastically. His spiritual power had also been retracted to roughly the half-elementalization stage.
This level was considered average on the Walker Plains—very inconspicuous. The only question was how he had managed to deceive the detection techniques at the registration point.
The young man gazed at the central arena, and a tangle of hatred, dark satisfaction, and inner struggle flickered across his face before fading away just as quickly.
He pulled his cloak tight, hiding his face beneath the hood, and disappeared into the sea of people.
Leilin had vaguely sensed the arrival of all these individuals, but at this moment, he had no attention to spare for them.
Right now, Leilin was in his private laboratory. Beside him sat an empty reagent vial.
A wisp of black liquid still clung to the mouth of the bottle, coiling and writhing with a faint hissing sound—like a serpent.
The Giant Serpent's Breath Potion—Leilin's magnum opus in potionology over the past decade, finally brought to fruition with the help of Vantix's Earth Spirit Beast Heart.