The newly risen giant sun of the early morning shone down on the vast fields of the Aldernon Great Plains. Under the warmth brought by the sunlight, the air began to flow. The thick fog, common in this season, ford a miraculous swirling pattern with the air currents and gradually thinned. Amidst the slowly clearing mist, three black carriages driven by puppet slaves traversed the newly repaired road, heading toward the imperial capital.
The three carriages, following a very common style in Typhon, had double-horse reins and extended spacious carriages, allowing them to carry more passengers and goods. This classic style made them popular among the more affluent travelers. The blue eyes and runes depicted on the carriages reminded passersby that these three vehicles belonged to a certain archMage.
The three black carriages ca from the west, enveloped in the cold wind and thin fog of early winter. A dim blue light emanated from the underside of the carriages, spreading across the entire body to form a thin shield, which kept the interior warm and comfortable against the cold outside.
Mary carefully opened a narrow gap on one side of the carriage and peered outside at the scenery—the slightly desolate wilderness retreated along the road, with the distant winter mist looming. She looked for a long ti but saw few pedestrians or vehicles, only occasionally spotting freight carriages with official emblems hurrying by. During this cold winter season, even in Typhon, not many commoners could afford to venture out, leaving these wide roads mostly traveled by the three carriages within her sight.
In the young female apprentice’s heart, a tinge of unease brewed, yet there was also a trace of anticipation.
She finally left that dark, eerie, horrifying Mage tower and that countryside. She was heading towards the legendary imperial capital, ready to explore another world.
Though she hadn’t escaped her ntor’s grasp, an inexplicable excitent lingered persistently. She didn’t know what she was anticipating, but she felt that... her life was finally about to change.
"There’s nothing to see on the roads this season."
A voice slightly sinister and hoarse echoed from behind, startling Mary. She couldn’t help but shiver lightly before quickly closing the window panel and returning to her seat.
Old Mage Daniel sat in the center of the carriage, still draped in that large, thick black robe, resembling a lifeless statue. In a corner of the carriage, two other apprentices sat cautiously, heads lowered over their books of "Algebra".
Mary glanced swiftly at her ntor. Seeing no trace of anger on the old Mage’s face, she felt reassured.
The recent impression was true; her ntor’s temper had indeed improved considerably.
Though he retained a gloomy disposition, remaining sowhat harsh and stringent, still researching those spine-chilling forbidden knowledges, the old Mage hadn’t lapsed into madness for quite so ti nor arbitrarily punished his apprentices.
These improvents didn’t completely relax Mary and her fellow apprentices, nor embolden them to approach their ntor proactively. But at the very least, Mary felt confident enough to ask her ntor so questions now: "Teacher, how long will we stay in the imperial capital?"
The old Mage seed in especially good spirits today, better than ever before. He gave Mary a glance and replied casually, "Don’t trouble yourself with that - just follow obediently."
Mary quickly bowed her head, responding, "Yes... yes."
"Get rid of this timid habit," the old Mage advised Mary. "It’s fine in front of , but don’t always tremble before others - lift your head, you’re a Mage, your ntor is an archMage, and you have status in the imperial capital."
Mary paused for a mont, then replied, "Yes."
"You all should take note," the old Mage raised his voice slightly, addressing the other two apprentices in the carriage. "Don’t act like country bumpkins—but don’t be reckless, either. You should carry both the pride of the Transcendent and reserve. Do not cause trouble for , nor allow others to bully you."
The apprentices paused for a mont, quickly nodding.
The ntor was actually teaching them the rules of conduct in the imperial capital—Mary thought to herself in surprise.
After delivering his instructions, the old Mage fell silent, taking out a copper mirror from his pocket and observing it quietly.
The mirror seed to be a magical object, intricately carved with complex and mysterious symbols and patterns over its entire surface, even the smooth mirror face. Mary only dared cast a quick glance before turning her head away briskly—
The mirror was crafted by the ntor prior to their departure, but none of the apprentices knew its purpose. The old Mage forbade anyone to touch, or even rely glance at it from afar. Mary only knew that nearly every day, the ntor would take it out to observe several tis—and after each instance, his mood seemingly improved, as if even his temper had been transford by the mirror.
So, whatever the mirror’s specific function, it was undoubtedly a good thing.
Daniel didn’t mind the musings within his apprentices’ minds; he simply focused intently on the mysterious symbols and patterns on the mirror, losing himself in the gentle sound of waves and a sense of ntal relaxation, soothing his slightly tense spirit—proving the extraordinary effectiveness of the esoteric symbols bestowed by the master, their impact unchanged even when transferred from the room walls to a small copper mirror.
With the aid of these symbols and patterns, he completely relaxed, allowing his mind to perate and feel the circumstances outside.
The fog had largely dissipated, yet a thin mist still enveloped the land—such was typical after winter’s arrival in the central region of Typhon, where even under the blazing sun a thin haze often persisted, the origin of the "Fog Month" moniker. Through the thin haze, the imposing city walls of Imperial Capital Oldennan now lood near.
How long has it been since I left this city?
A dozen years? Or maybe twenty years?
Daniel couldn’t quite recall imdiately, but he knew he had been away for a long ti. In these ten or twenty years, he transford from a prominent archMage at the Royal Mage Association into a self-exiled, reclusive, and gloomy dark wizard. He wasn’t sure how many people in the imperial capital still rembered him, but surely, those who once ostracized, ridiculed, and even secretly hard him wouldn’t forget...
The archMage Daniel, who was fervent about Neural Interfacing Magic theory yet achieved nothing in half a lifeti, has returned—bearing his master’s will.
On the mist-covered streets of Aldernon, three black carriages rolled over the damp, flat stone paths, heading towards the Royal Mage Association.
At the mont the great sun skimd the zenith of the sky, Daniel arrived at the headquarters of the Royal Mage Association with his apprentice, Mary.
The other apprentices had been sent off to settle their luggage and clean their quarters—in Daniel’s opinion, those apprentices who couldn’t keep up even after half a year of gnawing at the great knowledge bestowed by their master were all incompetents. Bringing them out would only embarrass him. Only Mary seed to have so talent in mathematics and could be brought out to see the world.
The solemn black outer wall of the Royal Mage Association, with its multi-layered spires, lood in the mist. The austere and straight lines on the outer walls gave the impression of a stern and old-school mage. This "stone-built mage" stood at the end of the street of Aldernon in his long robe, while the spires on the building served as this old mage’s magic hat—Daniel glanced at the rooftop of the Mage Association headquarters, then cast aside the aningless mories in his mind.
Mary wanted to step forward to knock on the door, but before she could, her ntor stopped her. The young mage from the countryside was stunned to see a shimring glow erge from the surface of the dark wooden door, and then an old face appeared within the glow: "Visitor, state your identity."
"Daniel, Daniel Fred," the old mage said smoothly, "the last smart person in this moldy old house of yours."
"Oh—such familiar words, ahaha," the Magic Spirit guarding the door let out a raspy laugh, "arrogant young man, middle-aged man, old man... self-exiled mage, what are you back for?"
Daniel’s tone was cold and calm: "Windsor Maple knows, go ask her."
The black door fell silent. Monts later, the old face moved once more: "President Windsor Maple invites you to the East Tower—but the girl by your side cannot enter."
"Mary is my apprentice, she can enter—tell Windsor Maple that I am as impatient as ever," Daniel replied.
This ti, the door remained silent for a longer period, so long that Mary was starting to feel uneasy when she finally heard the incredulous magic door respond: "You may enter."
The heavy magic door slowly opened, and Mary, filled with curiosity and a hint of nervousness, stepped up to follow the old mage’s footsteps.
The gates of the headquarters of the Royal Mage Association closed behind them.
Following the rembered route, Daniel moved through this enormous and complex building. Corridor after corridor, and room after room, appeared just as they did in his mories. The dark red long carpets, the Magic crystal lamps embedded in the walls, the intricate decorative patterns on the columns, the bas-reliefs on the ceilings... these luxurious yet aningless things flaunted the essence of this Mage Association and the tastelessness of the transcendents that hadn’t made any progress. Yet the faces of the people coming and going in these corridors, unchanged for many years, looked vastly different from those in the past.
There were many people in the Mage Association, but at least half of the faces were unfamiliar. They wore sumptuous magic robes, donned pointed hats or valuable circlets and coronets, and strode with heads held high in the brightly lit classical corridors, displaying a remarkable deanor. While maintaining a certain aloofness, unavoidable glances were cast towards Daniel, who wandered the corridors nonchalantly in his black robe, accompanied by an unremarkable female apprentice.
Mary and Daniel’s "humble" appearance did indeed stand out in this solemn and magnificent building, but even more notable was Daniel’s unselfconscious and confident deanor. The old mage wore the sa long robe he hadn’t changed in years, while artificial nerve cords twitched within, producing a hair-raising friction sound. These peculiar and terrifying constructs were uncommon even among the eccentrically tempered mages, naturally attracting everyone’s attention. Yet, amidst these attentions, the old mage just walked forward calmly, as if strolling in his own backyard.
Mary had never seen her ntor display such a deanor.
Around her, the mages cast curious, attentive, questioning, and scrutinizing glances. These gazes made the young female mage sowhat nervous and uneasy. She knew who these people were, those having exceptional talent in Magic and holding high status within the mage community, representing the pinnacle of Typhon’s magical prowess, admirable figures. While she herself was just a low-ranked small mage from a small place in the countryside, under normal circumstances, she wouldn’t even have the qualification to walk alongside these prestigious figures...
"Lift your head," her ntor’s voice suddenly reached her ears, snapping Mary back to her senses, "if you walk with your head down again, I’ll turn your neck to stone so you can’t ever lower it again."
Mary swallowed a mouthful of saliva and tried hard to lift her head, seeing that they finally reached the end of the long corridor.
A wooden door, etched with golden-red patterns and glowing with magic symbols, stood there.
Daniel stopped before the door, and Mary followed suit. The symbols on the door lit up, and a small crystal hovered out from a hole in the door, circling the two of them, before the door opened automatically.
Behind the door was a spacious and bright room, entirely different from the cramped, eerie, and oppressive mage laboratories in her impression. Illuminated by Magic crystal lamps, with a ring of bookshelves and large floor-to-ceiling windows, in the center of this room stood a semicircular large desk facing the door. A middle-aged woman in a blue skirt-style mage robe stood before it, seemingly having awaited there in that posture for a long ti.
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