Chapter 944: Discussion
What followed next was the Mana Vortex Magi discussing the sudden appearance of the Elder from the Inner Circle of the Cult of Bones.
Although the people at the upper echelons of the Brotherhood had expected Mana Core Magi from the Cult to arrive, they didn’t think that an Elder would be here.
And not just that… for the Elder to blatantly live within the city walls without alerting any Magi was simply astounding to think of.
They couldn’t help but take the threat of this Elder very seriously.
After the discussions amongst the Twilight Warden deepened, one of them turned to look at Adam, and with a tone laced with hints of suspicion, couldn’t help but ask:
“Magus Constantine, I an no offence, but why is it that the Elder chose to appear before you?”
The elderly man paused for a mont and added, “Forgive , but this all seems… rather convenient.”
Adam looked at this man with slightly narrowed eyes. He didn’t reply imdiately. Instead, he poured himself so more wine, then took a sip.
Then, he spoke calmly, “Who knows?”
The elderly man’s lips twitched.
“…Is that all you have to say?”
Adam placed the flat cup on the table. He leaned forward, resting his hands on the table and interlocking his fingers.
“I an, there could be several reasons why the man seems interested in . I could say it’s because I interfered with the Cult’s human trafficking ring, the sa one they were running with the Duskfall couple.
“I could say it’s because I took out a Mana Vortex Magus that they had stationed in Ravenfell over a year and a half ago to oversee their operations.
“I could also say that it’s because I took out several of their Mana Vortex Magi in Blackshore, or should I call it Ravenshore now?”
Adam’s lips curled into a smirk. “My point is, everything I’ve said is just conjecture. I know no more than any of you about why this Elder is so interested in , so much so that he would even reveal himself to .”
He grasped the flat cup and took another sip of wine. “The question you should really be asking is, how has the Elder managed to hide his presence inside Ravenfell?”
The man who asked the question slipped into silence. A mont later, he turned to Adam and apologized, “Forgive if I ca across as suspicious. With everything that’s happening right now…”
Adam raised his hand, interrupting him. “You don’t need to explain yourself to , my lord. I know that everyone’s under imnse pressure right now.”
The man simply nodded.
Then, the discussion continued, eventually turning to the involvent of the Ballard family in this conspiracy.
Another Twilight Warden, this one lanky and old—all of them were old—turned to Adam and asked with an inquisitive gaze, “Magus Constantine, you claid the Ballards were working with the Cult. So the rumors floating around the city are likely to be false.”
“The rumors are spread by none other than the Cult,” Adam said evenly, but there was a cold look in his eyes.
Kenelm Bowman noticed this. He shifted in his chair and said in a flat tone, “Tell everything.”
Adam gazed at the deep crimson liquid inside the flat cup. He could see his reflection staring back at him, seemingly telling him:
It’s okay, you can tell them. Tell them everything. But also tell them nothing.
Adam raised his eyes, matching Bowman’s gaze. “Soone very close to left Ravenfell earlier today. Two cultists ambushed them outside the city. One of them was Hayes Ballard. Well… now, he’s dead.”
“Were you involved?” Bowman asked, his tone cold and heavy.
“Of course, not.” Adam scoffed. “I was in my estate. Getting drunk.”
Kenelm Bowman’s eyes narrowed. “You sent this person away despite knowing how precarious the situation in this city is? And in the anti… you were getting drunk?”
Adam shrugged. “Guess I got careless.”
Bowman couldn’t help but frown at that response. He felt that the raven-haired youth wasn’t being completely honest with him.
Suddenly, another elderly Magus, sitting directly across from Adam on the far side of the table, asked in a low and raspy voice, “Magus Constantine, you said this person is very close to you, yes?”
Adam looked at the man and observed his appearance. His eyes were sunken, hidden in the shadows of his brow bones.
Long eyebrows trailed down to his cheeks, and his bald head was mottled with old spots.
He looked old and extrely frail, but Adam could tell that he was quite strong. Perhaps, only a little less stronger than Kenelm Bowman.
“I suppose,” said the raven-haired youth evenly.
The bald, old man nodded. “And now that a Magus as powerful as Ives Ballard has begun pursuing them, I wonder how long they’ll remain safe…”
Before giving Adam the chance to speak, he continued, “As such, I propose we dispatch so of our Magi. It will serve two purposes: first, our Magi will provide support for those on the run; second, we will use this opportunity to capture Ives Ballard.”
Most people at the table nodded in agreent, while the rest remained passive.
Kenelm Bowman deeply looked at the bald old man. Then, he turned to Adam and silently waited for his response.
Adam glanced at the bald old man with the long eyebrows. Then, he smiled politely. “Forgive , my lord, but I do not know your na.”
The old man waved his hand dismissively. “No need to address so formally. We are both Mana Vortex Magi, are we not?”
He paused for a mont before introducing himself, “I am called Gunter Fowler.”
Adam’s smile deepened. “Very well, Magus Fowler. I’m truly glad that you proposed this plan. Truth be told, I’m quite worried about my sister’s safety.”
“Rest assured, Magus Constantine,” said Gunter in a calm and strangely comforting voice. “We, as your brothers, will do everything in our power to ensure your sister’s safety.”
He paused, then added, his tone low and deliberate, “Now… if you’d be so kind as to tell us where she went. She will, after all, lead us to the traitor scum of Ravenfell.”
Adam offered a faint, apologetic smile.
“See, that’s the thing,” he said, his tone calm but edged.
His eyes narrowed, and he added, “I don’t know where she went.”
Gunter Fowler deeply looked at Adam in silence. A mont later, he shook his head slowly and murmured, almost wistfully:
“Ah… what a pity.”
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