The Guardian gods Chapter 743

The mist settled over the chained box and then it was gone.

Not hidden, not cloaked.

Gone.

It was as though reality itself had been edited, the object’s existence erased. Even i, reaching out with her own consciousness, could no longer sense it. Nor could the others. The space it had occupied felt empty.

A collective breath escaped them, i had succeeded. But success never went unnoticed.

At the border wall, a mage who had been seated in quiet ditation suddenly opened her eyes.

Once Opened they were no longer human.

Her pupils stretched and sharpened, irises reshaping into the keen gaze of an eagle. The world before her compressed, distance folding in upon itself as her vision locked onto the approaching carriages and the long caravan behind them.

Without a word, her body lifted from the stone wall, mana gathering beneath her feet before releasing her into the sky. She felt it, a ripple, faint but undeniable.

A fluctuation in mana.

On any other day, such a disturbance would have been dismissed as harmless residue from enchanted goods or protective charms. But this was different. The signature was crude, violent in its efficiency.

A spell had been cast.

And worse, life had been offered to fuel it.

That alone was enough to warrant investigation.

Curiosity had nothing to do with it. Duty did.

Her gaze sharpened as she descended, hovering above the road, the carriages growing larger beneath her.

Within the third carriage, a voice echoed calmly through the shared mind.

"Incoming".

Monts later, her presence pressed down on them like a weight. The female mage hovered in the air above the procession, robes fluttering in the wind, her transford eyes scanning every inch of the convoy with rciless precision.

Inside the carriages, the disguised pawns did not react.

They played their roles flawlessly nobles at ease, unaware of danger, unbothered by authority. No spikes of fear. No flinching. No resistance.

Outside, however, their companions were not afforded such discipline.

Startled by the sudden appearance of the mage, one of the escorts stepped forward quickly, bowing low in practiced deference.

"Esteed mage," he called out, voice respectful yet tense, "may we know the reason for your sudden descent?"

Above him, the mage did not answer imdiately.

Her eagle eyes continued to search, through flesh, through mana, through lies, unaware that the most dangerous thing she sought had already ceased to exist.

Finding nothing of imdiate note, the female mage shifted her attention to the man who had spoken.

She descended slowly from the sky. As she drew closer, the first thing that caught everyone’s attention was her bare feet, unprotected soles about to touch the dirt road without concern, but stopped a bit above the ground, unmarked by dust or stone.

Her skin was a smooth, unblemished brown, warm in tone and faintly luminous under the sunlight. Combined with her sharp features and quiet authority, her beauty struck the man harder than he expected. He swallowed instinctively, his mouth suddenly dry, his carefully rehearsed words montarily slipping away.

When the mage finally spoke, her voice carried clearly across the road, practiced, and unmistakably official.

"Our sensors detected the signature of a spell being cast."

Her gaze did not rest on the man.

It moved past him, locking onto the carriage i occupied.

The implication was imdiate.

The man stiffened, understanding at once. One of the nobles he escorted must have used magic, carelessly or out of convenience and drawn the mage’s attention. He felt no alarm at the accusation itself. This level of scrutiny was expected. During this season, Osita tolerated no irregularities, especially from foreign convoys.

He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgnt.

"Understood," he replied.

Turning, he approached i’s carriage. Following proper etiquette, he rapped his knuckles against the polished wood, then stepped back.

The window slid open.

i leaned forward just enough for her face to catch the light.

The man froze.

He knew that face. He recognized her, yet sothing about her seed different. No... enhanced. Her features appeared sharper, her presence more composed, her beauty carrying a subtle weight that unsettled him. He searched his mory, confused, unable to recall the noblewoman ever looking quite like this.

"My lady," he said slowly, "the mage claims a spell was cast, and it may have originated from your carriage."

i smiled.

She nodded once, an unspoken dismissal. The aning was clear: he need not involve himself further. She would address the mage personally.

The female mage’s gaze lingered on i for only a heartbeat before her mind moved, quick and precise.

Third tier? she assessed silently.

The conclusion didn’t surprise her much. A mage of that level traveling as a noble was not uncommon. If anything, it made the situation easier to explain.

She floated closer to i’s carriage, her bare feet never touching the ground.

Before she could speak, i’s voice rang out, smooth and lightly amused.

"It never ceases to amaze ," i said, eyes shining with practiced admiration, "the vigilance of the Osita Kingdom during this season."

The mage did not respond imdiately. Her attention was montarily drawn to i herself, to the careful symtry of her features, the unnatural polish of her appearance. There was sothing too refined about it, like a painting freshly touched by a master’s hand.

i noticed.

She tilted her head slightly, letting her hair spill and sway, the motion deliberate to draw attention.

"I recently ca across a spell said to enhance one’s appearance," i continued casually. "Seeing as we are nearing our destination, I thought it appropriate to use it on myself."

Her lips curved faintly.

"What do you think of the spell?"

The mage drifted closer still, now near enough to peer into the carriage. Inside sat a man, another supposed noble who, upon noticing her scrutiny, lifted his hand and offered a friendly, unassuming smile.

Nothing alarming.

Her attention returned to i.

"If the lady does not mind," the mage said at last, her tone even but curious, "I would like you to cast the spell once more."

Her eagle eyes glead with interest.

"Such a unique spell would drive the noble ladies quite mad."

The request hung in the air, polite on the surface, but unmistakably a test.

And i knew it.

i laughed softly, lifting a hand to cover her mouth in a gesture of playful modesty.

"Of course," she said lightly. "But the spell is not for everyone. I doubt most won are as daring as the two of us."

As she spoke, i reached into her sleeve and withdrew a living spider.

It was small and beautiful, its body glossy and dark, legs twitching faintly as it rested in her palm.

The female mage’s eyes narrowed slightly as she studied the creature. She did not recognize it, not as a familiar, nor as any commonly used catalyst. That alone made the spell unusual and unknown.

i hesitated. The pause was brief, but it was enough "What’s wrong?" the mage asked, her tone neutral.

i lifted her gaze, eting the mage’s eyes without flinching.

"I have already cast the spell on myself," she said calmly. "There is no need to repeat it. But if you do not mind... I could cast it on you instead. That way, you may experience it fully."

The mage searched i’s face for deception and found none, only confidence.

After a mont, she nodded, just as she had earlier.

i’s fingers tightened around the spider.

There was a soft, wet sound as it burst apart, dissolving instantly into a cloud of crimson mist that blood between them. i began to chant, her voice steady, precise, every syllable asured.

The mage watched her lips closely.

Her own mouth began to move, mirroring the words in perfect sync. She was learning the spell in real ti, dissecting its structure, morizing its flow. To any untrained observer, it would appear as though both won were casting together, two mages weaving a single incantation.

The spell reached its conclusion.

The bloody mist thickened, condensing into a dark, viscous paste that settled into i’s palm. She glanced down at it, then back at the mage, waiting.

The mage grimaced, nose wrinkling in clear distaste.

Still, she extended her hand.

Taking the paste, she sared it across her face without hesitation, coating her skin in the crimson substance. The sensation was cold at first, then warm, almost alive. Within seconds, the paste began to sink into her skin, seeping away until not a single trace remained.

Silence followed.

Then "Wow," i breathed, eyes widening as she took in the result.

The mage lifted her hand, and a shimring sheet of water rose before her, forming a perfect mirror suspended in the air. She leaned closer, studying her reflection with sharp, practiced eyes.

Then she froze.

For a long mont, she said nothing. Her expression shifted from curiosity to disbelief, fingers lifting to trace the contours of her own face as though to confirm it was real. The spell had not rely enhanced, it had refined, polishing her features with an elegance that felt almost unreal.

Slowly, she turned back to i.

"I apologize for delaying your journey," the mage said, her voice asured but unmistakably altered by awe. "You may continue."