Chapter 268

Chapter 268 – Flap-Flap, Flap-Flap

It is best to evaluate the circumstances with a level head first.

The figure confronting me was none other than Aeviron von Prauksen, who held the premier position among the Seven Mages of the Decullan Family.

While the exact path that had brought him to this location eluded me, his ultimate objective remained transparent.

‘……The Magic Tower.’

Yet, if his true target was the Magic Tower, what business could possibly bring him to the Second Black-White Slums?

From the perspective of the Decullan clan, the Azure Wing’s Captain Saurica and the Magic Tower ought to be entirely unrelated issues.

A flood of uncertainties surged forward, but the luxury of time for deep reflection was absent.

“Tell me, young man. Do you possess any relevant knowledge?”

Aeviron’s inquiry pulled me back to the present.

Simultaneously, I readied my magical configurations to engage at a moment’s notice. As for the wyvern…… it was wiser to keep it stationary for the time being.

Only after verifying that my face-concealing mask was firmly secured did I choose to speak.

“What prompts your curiosity, Duke?”

“Merely validating a suspicion. Tell me, are you by chance a practitioner of the arcane? Word reached me that the Duke retains a warrior and a mage among his retainers.”

I had assumed his attention was completely averted from the Second Black-White Slums, yet he had gathered that much intelligence.

Aeviron had apparently concluded I was a mage simply from witnessing my spellcasting, an assumption I chose not to correct.

Instead, I voiced a careful question.

“And who might you be, elder…….”

The situation could unfold in two distinct manners here.

First, he might choose to conceal or downplay his true identity.

‘That would be the ideal outcome.’

It would signal his preference to resolve matters quietly rather than flexing his overwhelming authority in the open.

However, the most perilous outcome would be his unprompted candor……

“You are likely unfamiliar with me, but I am merely an old soul named Aeviron von Prauksen. Does the title of the Decullan’s Seven Mages evoke any recognition? I happen to occupy the grand first seat.”

“Hmm.”

Given that he unhesitatingly disclosed his identity, lineage, and high rank, it was evident that the Decullans were thoroughly committed to this endeavor.

“Therefore, are you indeed the mage in question? I believe you have yet to provide a reply.”

“Yes.”

“Ha ha, extraordinary. What a fortunate turn of events. This spares me a great deal of searching.”

Aeviron beamed with genuine delight, as though he had just received magnificent news.

Yet, that jovial demeanor swiftly evaporated.

Narrowing his eyes with a calculating look, Aeviron presented a follow-up query.

“Allow me to ask then: are you familiar with the Magic Tower? The primary branch of our family harbors suspicions that your faction shares ties with them.”

……So that was the core of the issue.

They must have been utterly enraged by this whole Seven Mages affair.

Otherwise, someone of Aeviron’s stature would not have arrived within less than twenty-four hours.

He was clearly intent on upturning every stone until the exact location of the Magic Tower was exposed.

What strategy should I employ now?

Gulp.

Swallowing down my rising anxiety, I organized my thoughts.

“If I were to assert that we possess no ties to them, would you accept my words?”

“I would be inclined to, wouldn’t I? What alternative do I have?”

Under different circumstances, I would have responded with hostility, but at this moment, my sole desire was to depart without drawing notice. Especially with the wyvern accompanying me and the proximity of the Second Black-White Slums.

“Then I shall speak plainly. We are entirely disconnected from this Magic Tower. I have no knowledge of its existence.”

“Ha ha, is that truly the case? Well, how unfortunate…….”

Aeviron let out a mirthless chuckle while stroking his silver-white beard.

“This complicates matters. If the answer lies not within the Second Black-White Slums, then Lortel remains the solitary location left to investigate…… ha ha.”

He appeared genuinely crestfallen, yet a sudden doubt entered my mind.

‘Is he truly prepared to drop the matter so easily? Sincerely?’

But that brief moment of hope was instantly shattered.

“By any chance, have you encountered the Spirit Master of the Withering Wind?”

“The Spirit Master of the Withering Wind…… you say?”

“Or perhaps the training grounds for the Troubleshooter. Or perhaps Professor Parun or Henji…… any name will suffice. Even if it pertains not to the Magic Tower, share whatever identities you recognize with this old man.”

……Curse it all.

It had indeed seemed entirely too straightforward to be genuine.

This wretched old man never harbored the slightest intention of trusting my words.

What path was left to take?

‘What else is there to consider? I must flee.’

I had always prided myself on matching the intensity of my foes, whether overwhelming the weak or defying the strong. Yet strength exists in tiers, and Aeviron occupied the absolute zenith.

What did that imply?

‘It meant I was in dire straits.’

Without intending to boast, during my previous life, even with my limited capabilities, I had eluded Decullan trackers for multiple days, dismantling their spellcasting units through phantom ambushes.

Now that I had attained transcendence? Evading this confrontation in my current form should have been effortless.

Just as I prepared to make my escape, Aeviron’s words pierced through the air directly to me.

“Listen, mage. Attempting to flee is entirely your choice. However, for your own sake, to prevent a choice you might deeply lament, allow me to offer a piece of guidance.”

He began speaking in a patronizing tone, acting as though he were granting me an immense favor.

Yet, when all was said and done, it was counsel for which I felt…… profoundly, truly, incredibly appreciative.

Because had I actually chosen to flee, the remorse would have haunted me for the rest of my days.

What words could Aeviron possibly utter to evoke such a realization? It was this utter nonsense:

“This old frame will not pursue you. As you can observe, my physical condition is no longer what it once was—sustained running is rather taxing. Instead, I shall simply continue along my path. Eventually, my steps will guide me to the Second Black-White Slums.”

“…….”

“Ah, and I have been informed…… that you oversee an orphanage there?”

That singular statement changed everything.

“You absolute…….”

Fury erupted from the depths of my being like an uncontrollable blaze. My surroundings blurred, and my mind spun violently.

Yet that tempest subsided just as rapidly, replaced by an icy, focused rationality.

“Ha ha, it appears you are finally inclined to converse openly. Let us engage in a candid dialogue, then. I possess a multitude of inquiries requiring your answers.”

There was no longer any utility in conversation.

[Chi, companion. I am a mighty dragon. I shall assist as well…….]

Discarding the wyvern’s thoughts echoing within my consciousness, I threw the creature a safe distance away and lunged directly toward Aeviron.

……This clash could not be avoided.

• In moments when there is a treasure to shield, even unpossessed strength will manifest.

I had believed that specific day was the ultimate test, but I was mistaken—the true trial was unfolding this very day.

Aeviron von Prauksen.

A spellcaster originating from the Prauksen family, a subordinate house to the Decullan lineage, he entered the world as an illegitimate child of the leader, seemingly destined to vanish into obscurity without possessing a shred of authority.

That would have been his immutable fate, had the leader from two generations prior not recognized his latent capability.

• Child, do you not wish to stand at the absolute summit?

Undergoing tutelage directly beneath that family leader, Aeviron displayed astonishing advancement despite embarking on the study of sorcery quite late in his years.

With less than five years of magical education, he was already matching the capabilities of the elite Decullan spellcasting units. Before a decade had passed, he had eclipsed their commanding officers. It required a mere thirteen years for him to secure a coveted position among the Seven Mages.

Certain individuals expressed sorrow, noting that had he commenced his training in his youth, he undoubtedly would have carved his name deeply into the annals of magical history.

At the mere age of thirty-seven.

He achieved the realm of transcendence prior to even reaching his fourth decade.

Granted, when measured against the preeminent prodigies of the world, his ascension occurred somewhat late.

In the distant past, the King Slayer had crossed that threshold before reaching twenty years of age. Certain exceptional youths from elite magical dynasties achieved it during their twenties.

Nevertheless, scholars of the arcane rated Aeviron’s innate capability above those renowned prodigies for two primary reasons.

First, his introduction to the arcane arts occurred quite late in life.

Second, unlike those celebrated youths, he did not belong to the primary lineage of a grand noble house.

Even with the benefit of personal instruction from the Decullan family leader, the caliber of hidden techniques and institutional backing he received could not compare to what direct heirs enjoyed. The disadvantage of his age was undeniable.

Even so.

Aeviron shattered every single one of those impediments to grasp transcendence.

……Naturally, achieving transcendence demands far more than just a favorable setting and natural talent, which renders direct comparisons to historical prodigies somewhat complicated.

Yet one fact remained indisputable.

Aeviron von Prauksen.

He was an absolute ‘prodigy.’

While few individuals who reached transcendence had avoided being labeled as prodigies at some point, Aeviron stood apart.

His was not merely a superior capability relative to his peers…… it was the genuine article.

To frame it in terms Aster would use…… indeed, he was on equal footing with Shine and Damian.

Shine, Damian, Aeviron.

There existed no definitive method to categorize their respective talents, but Aeviron’s authentic brilliance was beyond question.

And at this precise moment, Aster experienced that reality down to his very core, more intensely than ever before.

‘Curse it.’

……Absolutely nothing proved effective.

Neither the Crimson Jade, which had previously bewildered two members of the Seven Mages, nor the magic-nullifying properties unleashed through transcendence yielded any results.

The Cataclysm dissolved before it could fully take shape, disrupted by anomalous currents of mana. Even my ultimate recourse, Blink, was effortlessly neutralized by the brilliant Aeviron without a shred of trepidation.

I attempted to shift the engagement toward close-quarters combat, which favored my physical prowess, yet he systematically dismantled my approach without shifting a single inch from his spot.

The consequence of that failure.

“……Cough. Hack, gah…….”

Aster expelled a torrent of crimson fluid and collapsed to the ground.

Had a sensation of such utter helplessness ever washed over me before? Even Pahren von Decullan from my prior existence had not managed me with such effortless ease. Did this imply that this elderly man possessed a level of power exceeding that of Pahren von Decullan from the past?

As my consciousness fractured into disarray, the sound of approaching footsteps drew near my position.

“Ha ha, finding yourself overwhelmed within your own domain, are you?”

“…….”

Aster fixed Aeviron with an intensely hostile, bloodshot glare. Aeviron appeared entirely unblemished, looking precisely as he had prior to the initiation of the struggle. As though no exertion had taken place.

“Restrain that furious gaze. It is simply an unfavorable pairing of abilities. Do you wish to try once more? This old man is entirely willing.”

“F……uck.”

An additional attempt?

The inquiry was entirely redundant.

I was forbidden from falling at this spot.

“Very well, though this old man cannot afford to linger indefinitely…… ah, how about we try this?”

Aeviron smiled broadly, as if an entertaining concept had just occurred to him.

“If you find yourself incapable of motion, this old man shall simply advance toward the Second Black-White Slums one single stride at a time. A single stride…… let us designate it as this distance.”

He executed a single movement, his figure expanding across a vast distance before settling to a halt.

That constituted merely one stride.

……An exceptionally sadistic pastime.

The outcome of the battle was already decided, and he retained the ability to conclude it at any moment to fulfill his objective.

Resembling a child amusing themselves with an insect trapped within a container, Aeviron deliberately forced Aster to the absolute boundary of despair. Merely to observe how much further he could endure. It was as though he had stumbled upon a rare source of amusement.

Given those circumstances, what choice remains for the trapped insect?

An alternative had never truly existed.

Aster unsteadily forced his body upward.

“Cease…….”

To fight.

And to perish.

In this particular instant, his mind was entirely devoid of peripheral thoughts. He gave no consideration to the elderly man’s incomprehensible level of power, nor to the ultimate resolution of this clash.

……And at a significant distance from that location.

Flap-flap, flap-flap.

A plump reptilian creature glided across the midnight sky.

[I locate. I deliver from danger, the path.]

No longer merely a helpless entity of spirit.

In the far distance, the vast expanse of the Second Black-White Slums came into view.