Chapter 0048: A Display of Authority

According to the chronicles of the Wizard Continent, the region nominally governed by the Scattered Talin Wizard Association in the continent’s central lands encompasses no fewer than thirty-one territories. The smaller ones sprawl over seven or eight hundred thousand square kilometers; the larger span millions, vast in area, rich in resources, and home to over sixty percent of the entire continent’s population.

The destination of Grimm’s assignment lay in the northeastern corner of the Dagon region, deep within the Krila mountain range. Ever since an entrance to the subterranean world had been discovered here, the Scattered Talin Wizard Association had erected a wizard tower at the mouth of the cave, stationing a powerful Second Rank wizard to oversee it. One might think a Second Rank wizard, seemingly low in the nine-tier wizard hierarchy, would be ill-suited for such responsibility. Yet, in the very heartland of wizardry, the highest rank one might hope to encounter was but the Fourth Rank.

Indeed, even the greatest of the three major wizard organizations, and the highest authorities of the Scattered Talin Association itself, were all Fourth Rank wizards. As for those of even loftier rank, it was said they had already left the wizard world behind, venturing forth to conquer the boundless starry seas.

Thus, the present power structure of the continent was as follows: First Rank formal wizards—those obsessed with gathering knowledge and self-improvement—formed the largest group among all factions, at the very beginning of their ascent. Second Rank wizards served as the backbone of their academies, capable of independently holding their own. A Third Rank wizard could command a following, founding a minor organization or even a family of their own. And Fourth Rank wizards were the core strength every great power sought to win over. Should a Fourth Rank wizard so choose, they could carve out their own territory and establish a wizard kingdom unique to themselves.

The true measure of any organization’s strength was, in fact, the number of Fourth Rank wizards it commanded.

The group of fallen wizards involved in Grimm’s mission to investigate the shadowy caverns boasted at most a handful of Second Rank members. Thus, a Second Rank wizard and the tower itself were deemed sufficient to repel any attack or incursion by these adversaries.

The wars waged between wizards were not for apprentices like Grimm to join; their mission was more to survey the distribution and movements of subterranean creatures, as well as to monitor the activities of the fallen wizards.

Whether by design or coincidence, it was the apprentices raised by the fallen wizards who proved most active in the upper layers of the shadowy caverns. The Scattered Talin Association, for its part, seldom dispatched formal wizards to this front; those tasked with such duties were mostly apprentices themselves.

Unsurprisingly, this made the place a front line for the contest and slaughter between apprentices on both sides—a grisly, blood-soaked battlefield where conflict erupted nearly every day. Yet, from this ceaseless carnage, a host of promising apprentices emerged, their ferocity and callousness forged in blood, embodying what it meant to be a battle-hardened combat wizard.

...

As the airship descended slowly near the mission site, Grimm was struck with surprise.

The destination was, in fact, a small city—quite contrary to his expectations.

But given its proximity to the shadowy caverns, and the periodic bounty of rare resources found only deep underground, it made sense that so many trading houses and clandestine merchants would be drawn here.

The airship landed in a vast plaza outside the city, where a fierce-looking man, his whole being exuding a bloody aura, awaited them. Judging by his spiritual fluctuations, he was an advanced apprentice.

As he watched the five disembark from the airship, the man’s eyes betrayed a peculiar, indescribable smirk—the air of a battle-hardened veteran sneering at greenhorns. But when the burly wizard leapt heavily from the ship, he immediately wiped all insolence from his expression and bowed with utmost respect.

“All right, all right, enough with the fuss. Here are your new batch of wizard apprentices; be careful how you use them. The next shipment won’t arrive for another two months. If you overdo it and something goes wrong, beware the Association’s wrath!” With a broad, dismissive wave, the muscular man herded the five remaining passengers off the ship as though shooing a clutch of chicks.

“Rest assured, Lord Samir. Things underground have been quieter than usual; our patrols haven’t encountered any of those dark brats for half a month now. The black wood lotus and night-eye stone you requested are ready and awaiting your inspection.” The apprentice’s brutal face now wore a sycophantic grin.

It was only then that Grimm and the others realized that the burly, body-tempering wizard who had accompanied them was named Samir.

“Good. Settle these new apprentices in; I’m going for a look around town. Once you’re done, find me at Old Krie’s place!” Without waiting for a reply, Wizard Samir strode off toward the distance.

Once Samir was out of sight, the fierce apprentice straightened up from his bow.

“Come with me,” he said, his gaze sweeping swiftly over the five newcomers. His expression did not change upon seeing the two quasi-wizards, but he did frown slightly when his eyes fell on Grimm. “My name is Kevin, but you can call me Blackhand Kevin.”

A simple introduction, but his proud tone made it clear he valued his moniker above his name.

“Blackhand Kevin? Don’t tell me you have a brother named Whitehand as well?” joked a young man in a short yellow robe, his exposed skin covered in assorted wizard trinkets. He was one of the two quasi-wizards and clearly harbored no special respect for “Blackhand” Kevin.

To his surprise, Blackhand Kevin moved the moment a cold glint flashed across his face.

Almost in the blink of an eye, Blackhand Kevin vanished from where he stood. The next instant, a blurred, ghostly figure appeared behind the yellow-robed quasi-wizard, twin daggers poised for a vicious attack.

With a quasi-wizard’s spiritual power of twenty points, not a breath of change within ten meters should escape his notice. Though shocked by his opponent’s sudden aggression, the young quasi-wizard reacted with equal speed.

A crackling thunderclap rang out, and a net of blue lightning sprang up behind him. He turned smoothly, unleashing two thick lightning bolts from his hands straight at the advanced apprentice paralyzed by the electric web.

Yet even as he attacked, a moment’s hesitation crossed his mind. Was it wise to kill a “teammate” on his very first day in this unfamiliar place? Although the other had struck first, the consequences might still be troublesome.

As he pondered whether to restrain his “thunder strike,” a sharp pain lanced up his spine—a pitch-black dagger burst through his chest, its tip protruding before his eyes. Only then did the struggling figure in the lightning net dissolve into shards of mirrored illusion.

At the same time, a hoarse and menacing voice rasped in his ear, “Here, being a quasi-wizard means nothing. Next time, watch your tongue.”

With that, Blackhand Kevin yanked the dagger free, stepped back, and fixed him with an icy stare.

Sweat drenched the young quasi-wizard’s brow—not only from pain, but from the terror of Blackhand Kevin’s uncanny abilities. Gritting his teeth, he pulled a violet potion from his pouch, drinking half and pouring the rest over his gushing wound. Strangely, within mere seconds, the gaping hole through his chest began to knit together, scabbing over with blood. With a wipe, the scab fell away, revealing smooth, unblemished skin beneath.

“Bloody Mary!” Blackhand Kevin whistled. “You quasi-wizards do carry some fine things! Makes me wish I’d given you an even bigger parting gift. Now do you understand why they call me Blackhand Kevin? It’s because I like stabbing people in the back. Next time you look for trouble, mind your rear.”

The young quasi-wizard, having suffered a grievous loss, ground his teeth in frustration, but dared not provoke Kevin again. His companion, also a quasi-wizard, frowned deeply, clearly cowed by the ruthless violence on display.

Yet what truly unsettled the two was not Kevin’s savagery, but his bizarre technique.

It could not have been a spatial attack—there was no sign of spatial disturbance. Nor a simple doppelganger spell, for Kevin’s true form had reappeared without warning, and the decoy illusion had carried an unmistakable imprint of his spiritual energy. Otherwise, the young quasi-wizard would never have been so easily deceived.

For a moment, the group ruled out possibility after possibility, left uncertain as to the true nature of Blackhand Kevin’s power. That he could so easily outmaneuver a quasi-wizard as an advanced apprentice owed something to surprise, but far more to the mysterious potency of his witchcraft.

Until they understood his methods, the young quasi-wizard had no intention of offering himself as another test case.

Red Mary, herself an agile close-combat assassin, found that even with her keen dynamic vision she could not track Blackhand Kevin’s movements—a fact that made her frown even more deeply.

As she brooded, Grimm gently tugged her sleeve and mouthed the word: “Illusion.”

Perhaps only Grimm had clearly seen what transpired in that fleeting exchange.

Blackhand Kevin’s innate magic was, remarkably, illusion.

Unlike other wizard apprentices who pursued ever greater and more destructive spells, Kevin focused on integrating his innate magic with his own battle prowess. Under the illusion that beguiled all five senses, he had never left his original position, merely cloaking himself in deception. When the quasi-wizard turned to face the lifelike illusion behind him, he exposed his back—unguarded—to Kevin, who was himself an agile assassin. Judging by his speed, Kevin’s agility must have ranked just below Red Mary’s—somewhere between thirteen and fifteen points.

If such a person charged at full speed, Grimm, without elemental sight, would have no hope of tracking his true body, let alone defending against his all-out assault.

Indeed, among body-tempering wizards, agile assassins like Red Mary were the greatest nemesis of all those apprentices who wielded elemental magic.