Chapter Twenty-Six: You Know Nothing of Power

“Master! Young Master William, he—”

Lal's sudden appearance shattered the tranquil atmosphere of the dining room. He barged in, panic-stricken, but before he could finish his sentence, a fireball struck him squarely in the back, sending him flying to the floor beside Eit.

“Lal, what’s wrong? Answer me!”

Seeing his butler collapse, Eit felt a chill seize his heart. He could not fathom who would dare launch such a brazen attack on the mayor's home.

“There’s no point calling him. He won’t wake up for a while.”

The instigator of all this stepped before Eit—William Rusty, a black-haired youth of seventeen or eighteen, whose features were gentle, lacking his father’s ruggedness. He gazed down at his father from above, sparing only a fleeting glance for the two unfortunate guests before losing interest.

“You put something in the food? But why?”

The dosage of the potion had been calculated perfectly; Eit could not move anything below his neck, but his mouth remained functional. He stared at his son in bewilderment. If this was a prank, it was far too much.

“That’s right. As for the reason... It’s all your fault, Father.”

“You resent me? Your mother died giving birth to you, so I gave you only the best, cared for you with all my heart. When have I ever wronged you?!”

Eit glared at his son, who suddenly seemed a stranger. He could accept betrayal from anyone, but not from the child he loved most.

“It’s precisely because you cared too much! You spoon-fed me until I was ten. Whenever I played with my peers, you hovered protectively. Eventually, no one wanted to play with me. They all called me the mayor’s precious son. Now I don’t even dare leave the house! If only you weren’t here, if only you were gone!”

William grew more agitated, his magic surging uncontrollably. His black eyes were now veiled with a ghostly green light.

“Mental manipulation magic? Who’s targeting our family?”

Eit finally realized something was wrong. His son was shy, perhaps, but never would he wear such an expression. Noticing the eerie green gleam in William’s eyes, he understood his son was being controlled.

“Since you’ve figured it out, there’s no helping it. Mr. Eit, please hand over the ‘key.’”

Four figures in black mage robes entered the dining room. The speaker was the leader, a middle-aged man who made no effort to conceal his magical aura—in fact, he radiated it like a warning, making it clear that resistance would be futile.

“A… Archmage…”

Fear flickered across Eit’s face. Against lesser mages, he might have stood a chance, but in front of an archmage, even a great mage like him was as fragile as paper. And with three more great mages behind the archmage, the odds were hopeless.

Though everyone in this world possessed some degree of magic, and casting small spells was commonplace, the true measure of a mage was magical power. Archmages, who had stepped into the realm of advanced magic, could look down upon the four lesser ranks and boast, “You know nothing of true power—ha ha ha!”

Yet, the arrival of the archmage merely made Mayuna, who was lying prone, feel drowsy. Now that the mastermind had revealed himself, she saw no need to play dead any longer—after all, the table was uncomfortably hard. Just as she was about to rise, Ruby grabbed her hand and began writing in her palm. The intruders’ attention was fixed on the mayor, so none noticed the conspiracy of four hands beneath the table.

Don’t. Move. Play. Dead.

Ruby’s fingertips tickled Mayuna’s palm. She had grown accustomed to his touch over time, and this closeness brought no discomfort. Quickly understanding his message, she seized his hand in turn and wrote back:

No. Stir. Trouble.

Ruby was puzzled by her reply—why was Mayuna telling him not to stir up trouble? Three seconds later, the truth dawned on him: she hadn’t meant “don’t stir trouble,” but rather, “no—stir trouble.” If not for the need to keep up their ruse, Ruby would have tugged her ear in exasperation. How could a proper young lady think of nothing but stirring chaos all day? Who had spoiled her so?

He was about to continue his silent remonstration when Mayuna withdrew her hand before he could react.

“I’ll give you what you want, but only if you promise to let us and my guests go afterwards.”

While Mayuna and Ruby exchanged silent messages, Eit had come to terms with the mysterious intruders. Realizing resistance was futile, he could only try to secure the safety of his family and guests.

“Of course. I swear by the name of the God of Light—once we have what we seek, we’ll leave. But I am curious: where did you hide it? We searched everywhere and found nothing. You don’t even carry any space artifacts.”

A satisfied smile crept onto the archmage’s face, as if he had the situation well in hand, though a hint of confusion soon followed. Eit then revealed his hiding place for the “key.”

“Is that so? Interesting. Unlike your appearance, your mind is quite meticulous.”

The archmage, surprised by the revelation, praised Eit, then tore away the sleeve from his right arm and seized a table knife. With a deep cut to Eit’s upper arm—after some rummaging—he extracted what he sought: a milky-white jade tablet, the size of a palm, which gleamed with a metallic luster despite clearly being stone, its true nature inscrutable.

“We have what we came for. Now, will you cure us of the poison?”

Blood streamed from Eit’s arm, his complexion as pale as death. While not instantly fatal, without prompt treatment, his chances were slim.

“This paralytic toxin isn’t hard to cure—give it ten minutes and it will dissipate on its own. We’ll take our leave now.”

The archmage spoke leisurely, preparing to depart. Just as Eit breathed a sigh of relief, he added, “But I hear Dris is a dry place, most houses built of wood. It wouldn’t be unusual for a fire to break out, would it?”

Eit was, after all, a recorded mayor of the Holy Empire. Should he die suddenly at home, imperial investigators would surely be drawn. The archmage didn’t fear discovery, but worried that someone might trace the mayor’s family line and learn of the “key’s” existence. Disguising it as an accident would be much simpler; at worst, the town would mourn, and his funeral would be settled in haste.

“You can’t! You swore an oath!”

“Ah, but unfortunately, we do not worship the God of Light.”

Smiling, the archmage produced a crimson crystal, within which a flame seemed to burn. It brimmed with potent fire energy—once ignited, it would intensify any blaze, and ordinary water spells would be useless against it.

“Light it.”

With a flourish, the archmage tossed the firestone to the floor. Such a minor task was fit for his underling, and the thought of the rich rewards awaiting him made his smile widen.

One minute passed.

Two minutes passed.

Three minutes passed.

“I said, light it!”

The archmage’s smile was beginning to strain his face, yet he sensed no movement from his subordinates. Irritated, he turned and snapped.

“I—I’m trying, but Fireball won’t work.”

The great mage underling stood with arm outstretched, palm open. For a mage of his rank, a second-tier fire spell should be effortless, but the fire element in the air seemed utterly depleted—he couldn’t spark so much as a flame.

A mage’s own magical power is neutral; to cast elemental spells, one must draw on the corresponding elemental energy in the air. Without it, only neutral magic like energy bolts can be cast.

“How did you even graduate from the Academy? You—try!”

With a wave, the archmage slapped his inept underling, then pointed at another. But this one, too, failed—no matter what he tried, he couldn’t produce fire magic. The archmage finally sensed something was amiss and attempted it himself. As expected, he, too, found fire spells impossible, though other elements still worked. But he needed fire!

“A powerful mage is here… Senior, if you are passing by, please do not interfere with our task. I have some high-grade mana crystals here—if they are beneath your notice, please accept them as a token.”

The archmage was terrified. In all his years, he had never heard of anyone capable of freezing the elemental energy in the air. This could only mean their adversary was at least at the level of grand archmage. Sensing the gravity of the situation, he quickly produced a pile of mana crystals from his spatial item and set them on the ground, loudly addressing the seemingly empty room.

“Hee hee, did you hear that, Ruby? He called me senior. But I don’t like being called ‘senior’ by a middle-aged man—it makes me sound old.”

A girl’s silvery laughter rang out, reaching the archmage’s ears. The two “corpses” he’d ignored rose together. The smile on the beautiful girl’s face was so dazzling that even the archmage was momentarily struck dumb.

“I told you not to stir up trouble…”

What more could Ruby say? He had originally intended to help the mayor’s family escape when the arsonists left, but fate had handed him a debt collector who never let him rest.

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