Chapter 53: Changing the World (Please Recommend and Add to Favorites)

When the priest of law presented the warrant for Cook’s arrest, everyone in the Arcane Council was stunned. The charge: “Endangering Public Safety!”

Cook was one of the council’s senior members, head of the Outreach Department. Though he sometimes used his position to flirt with young women or pilfer spellcasting materials—indiscretions at worst, barely worth a public reprimand—this time, the matter was grave. Even enforcers from the Temple of Order had appeared.

The warrant bore the shimmering sun insignia, unmistakable. Upon seeing it, Cook’s face went pale; his mind went blank, unable even to utter a word. To those watching, his expression was one of utter despair—caught red-handed, crushed by circumstance.

But in reality, Cook was simply terrified, dumbstruck. When two impassive paladins seized him, he tried to protest, only to be silenced instantly with a spell. Their touch robbed him of control over his own body, leaving him to be dragged away, his face contorted in terror.

As Cook was escorted from the Arcane Council, the entire academy erupted in uproar. Cook was among the DuPont family’s top heirs; for him to be hauled away in public was a humiliation for the DuPonts.

Yet the observant noticed something strange: from the moment the priest of law entered the academy until Cook was taken away, not a single faculty member spoke up. Could the DuPont family truly be so unaware of such a major event? No one came forth to inquire—clearly, something was amiss.

After Cook’s departure, Lisper immediately ordered everyone to resume their work, then summoned several senior members for a meeting.

In the council chamber, Beron and the others hotly debated, but reached no conclusions, and could only turn to President Lisper.

President Lisper sat quietly with her eyes closed, but the wild surges of fire elemental magic around her betrayed her inner turmoil.

After a moment, Lisper opened her eyes.

“Beron, check Cook’s recent records of leaving the academy,” she commanded.

“Yes!” Beron promptly rose and departed.

“Dahlena and Jennifer,” Lisper said, turning.

“Present!” “Here!”

“Go to the lab area and find out whether Cook has used the laboratory recently, what materials he handled, and have someone analyze the discarded components.”

Dahlena and Jennifer, sensing the gravity, wasted no words and headed directly to the public laboratory in the mage tower.

“Anderson, as captain of the law enforcement team, have your squad investigate who Cook has interacted with or clashed against lately.”

“Understood.” Anderson rose to leave, and just before closing the door, the corner of his mouth curled slightly.

…

Once the others left, Lisper slumped into her chair, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

In an avalanche, not a single snowflake is innocent.

Though she had no idea what Cook had actually done, never in the long history of Giles Academy had such an event occurred. If Cook DuPont were truly guilty, it would be a devastating blow to the council’s reputation. If not, it was a frame-up.

Was the mastermind targeting Cook, the DuPont family, or the entire academy?

After years of working together, Lisper understood Cook well. The look in his eyes as he left suggested he was innocent, merely shocked into silence.

At that moment, President Lisper suddenly recalled a certain figure.

“If it’s him, how would he act?”

…

When Born returned to the manor, he found it protected by a layer of invisible magical shielding, though outwardly it appeared unchanged.

Born’s deepening knowledge of magic meant such large-scale wards could no longer hinder him, but he nonetheless used his token to create a small opening in the shield and entered.

The once tranquil, elegant manor was now bustling, with many practicing martial arts or sparring on the lawns, which had become a training ground. Sir John, the head knight, strode about, loudly berating the trainees.

Born greeted Sir John with a smile, then headed to the study to find Viscount Gordon.

“Father!” Born bowed respectfully.

He noticed the viscount’s fatigue, and the pile of unfinished documents on the desk.

“Born, take a seat here.” Viscount Gordon’s spirits lifted at the sight of his son.

Maids brought tea and pastries.

“These are your favorite Makasha pastries, and some red tea,” Gordon said, smiling, urging Born to try them.

Born smiled, sampled a pastry, his eyes lighting up, then took a sip of tea.

“This flavor—?” Born looked at the viscount in surprise.

“Well? Isn’t it just like when you were a child?”

His son’s reaction clearly delighted Gordon.

Back when they lived in the country castle, Born loved pastries made by an old chef who came with them to Sevinton, but died a few years later. Afterward, no one could replicate the taste.

“Indeed, it’s exactly the same!” Born was moved; he knew his father must have worked hard.

“When we moved back and sorted your mother’s belongings, we found a recipe book. Turns out, the old chef’s methods were taught by your mother!” Gordon said with a sigh, taking a notebook from a box and handing it to Born.

Born opened it and quickly glanced through—the recipes were written in Quenya, the script of the elves.

“So that’s the secret.”

No wonder, in such an unpalatable, alien world, there were still such delicious pastries and tea. It was the elves’ method.

Of course! Only the elves, who pursued perfection in all things, would study the art of eating.

Though he had never met his birth mother, he knew she was a half-elf, so it was no surprise she knew elven culinary techniques.

“Born, did you come home today for something?” After they had sampled the treats, Viscount Gordon finally asked.

“There is something I need the family’s help with.” Born set his cup down gently. “I need a group of trustworthy people, preferably literate, each with their own talents, and the younger the better.”

“Younger, and literate?” Gordon was puzzled.

Born leaned in and explained his whole plan to the viscount.

Gordon’s expression shifted from confusion to contemplation, then to astonishment as he listened.

After a silent moment, Gordon spoke gravely: “Born, have you considered how many interests this will affect? This will cause a massive upheaval in all of Nather—perhaps across the continent!”

“I have. But with grandfather around, we can push responsibility onto him. When the sky falls, it’s the tallest who bears it,” Born replied with a grin.

“And in the end, we’ll let grandfather take the blame. He’ll handle it—and who knows, perhaps this will help him ascend to legendary status.”

Heh…

Gordon was momentarily speechless.

This was the classic ‘throw your father under the bus’—no, your grandfather!

But Born had convinced him.

“Is this really feasible? The technical side…?” Gordon hesitated.

“No problem at all; it’s already been tested,” Born said confidently.

Viscount Gordon took a deep breath, and said in a low voice, “I’ll have Walker arrange it right away.”

“We’re going to change the world!”

…