Chapter 371

Inside the heavily guarded fortress within the city, there was an anti-magic command room located at the center.

"Impossible!" The aged general slammed his fist onto the desk.

He turned around from his position with his back to his subordinates, his sharp, aged yet piercing eyes fixed on the elite Soldier Captain before him: "I don't care which Magic Society president is vouching for him; carrying out an assassination openly at a noble's musical gathering is not a matter that can be resolved just by giving him some face!"

The Soldier Captain looked troubled: "General, that really wasn't a method that humans can contend with. You can ask my subordinates; they all experienced the situation earlier together, and it truly exceeded imagination."

The old general approached his subordinates, looking at the squad of soldiers who appeared as if they had suffered mental trauma: "You were intimidated by the mages' methods. You are a Knight Rank officer; you should know that so-called mages always hide behind layers of protection, and they are often overrated."

After saying this, he gave his subordinate no chance to argue: "You stay; everyone else get back to the barracks. When you have rebuilt your Yongqi in your hearts, then come back to execute missions. Don't embarrass me!"

The soldiers lowered their heads and walked out of the room one by one in shame.

Once only the close high-ranking officers remained in the room, the old general circled the Soldier Captain who had stayed behind: "To be honest, I have heard of that so-called Northern Magic Society, and I have heard that they are a massive organization."

"But!" He emphasized the volume of the word "but".

"This is the Farah Peninsula! This is Tatulongs! The old noble families who ruled here for generations don't have the final say here, and the powerful Empire people don't have the final say here either. For the leader of a distant magic organization to suddenly intervene in the current status quo and claim it was accidental—even the lowliest ant-catcher in the desert wouldn't believe it."

He looked at the other officers in the anti-magic command room and asked them: "Tell me, here, who exactly has the final say?"

The Soldier Captain immediately said: "It is the great Sun Ring, it is."

He wanted to say more, but was stopped by the old general: "I didn't tell you to speak, shut up."

The other officers spoke up at this moment: "It is the great Sun Ring, and it is the equally great High Priest of the Church and their followers who save all people."

The old general stared fixedly at the Soldier Captain: "Do not be intimidated by Magic; they are all ethereal things, not that remarkable. Only the Sun Ring is the truly great existence."

"This is not a place where just any mage can bewilder the masses; firm up your Faith. You go back and rest first; I will send other officers to handle this matter. I hope that next time, such remarks and behavior will not appear again."

After speaking, he returned to his seat and was just about to sit down to issue orders to strengthen the search when the entrance bell of the anti-magic command room rang.

Ding, ding, ding.

Three mechanical bell sounds connected to the side of the thick anti-magic stone door suddenly rang out; this meant someone outside was requesting entry.

A guard responsible for the security of the command room looked through the corner mirror next to the metal bell to see the visitor's identity: "General, outside is the deputy of the parish Priestess."

"Invite him in," the old general said with a wave of his hand, his butt, which had just sat down, standing up again.

The guard operated the mechanism, the heavy anti-magic stone door slid open to the side, and the stone door that had just been closed not long ago opened once again.

"Good evening, Priestess 'Azure Tianguang'." The officers in the command room all touched their shoulders in salute.

This Sun Ring Priestess with the unique title returned the salute to these officers one by one.

He held the local Priestess's personal God's Staff in his hand; seeing this, the old general felt something was wrong and frowned. He waved his hand, signaling everyone, including the guards, to withdraw.

The Priestess also signaled to the subordinates following behind him, letting them withdraw temporarily as well.

After there was no one else in the command room, the Priestess waved his hand toward the anti-magic stone door, and a white light flashed and vanished on his body. The control mechanism at the door not far away operated on its own, closing the anti-magic stone door.

After there was no one else in the room, the old general took a deep breath and asked.

"What happened? You need to bring the Priestess's personal God's Staff?"

After the Priestess was silent for a moment, he handed the God's Staff to the old general: "I am very sorry, the Priestess's order: from the moment the order is received, recall the troops conducting the search, and prepare to go with the Priestess to the inn where that Northern Magic Society president is staying."

"What? In this situation? We have discovered quite a bit of the power hidden by the former nobles, and there is also evidence proving that they have been receiving secret funding from the Empire."

Pausing, the old general's eyebrows stood up: "They are conspiring to overthrow us! Not just Tatulongs! The Sowier Great Oasis, the Great Lighthouse Harbor City, and other cities near the west side of the Farah Peninsula are all areas where they are plotting! I have arrested spies as proof! And a large pile of tokens and letters from the former nobles as proof!"

Unexpectedly, the old general's solemn statement was not taken seriously by the Priestess: "Is that so? Then everyone did a good job. But you still have to come with me; you must go before that Magic Society president and make peace with the mage involved in the assassination incident."

Speaking to this point, the Priestess looked at the reluctant old general, and he tapped his forehead: "Don't be in a hurry to say anything; I already know about that so-called 'assassin', and it is not as you say."

"?"

"You are an old acquaintance of his, aren't you? Although that mage's behavior is strange, and we suspect he possesses sinister Magic to control the Human Mind, we are not completely ignorant of the relevant news. General, the Empire and those oppressors might be planning something, but the Sun Ring does not care. You have been a bit too nervous about this recently."

When the Priestess said this, he walked around the small command room with his hands behind his back, saying as he walked: "You might not understand."

"Understand what?" The old general was a bit confused; since the Priestess did not care about those secret conspirators, why did he authorize him to let the soldiers enter the city.

"Many things."

"I don't understand. Don't hide it from me; I am wholeheartedly devoted to the Sun Ring! You know, I have resisted the tyranny of the powerful and noble since I was young; they oppressed, and I resisted! And the Sun Ring is the best result I hoped for in the first half of my life!" Speaking to this point, the old general raised his voice, and it was resonant!

The Priestess paced slowly in the command room while looking at the furnishings in the command room.

The large spliced sheepskin map of Tatulongs Seaport City hanging on the wall, the map of the nearby sea area, the map of the nearby wilderness, the map of the desert. The desks of the officers working here, on which were thick notebooks and rolls of sheepskin, as well as the Church Blessed Glowing Stone Lamp for lighting, paper and pens for writing, and various exquisite Water bottles and teacups.

Nodding, 'Azure Tianguang' felt that the old general's management was still very good; not to mention the victories during the war years ago, the military stability of Tatulongs and its vicinity over these years was also thanks to the other party's painstaking efforts.

He coughed lightly and looked at the old general who was staring at him without blinking: "General, you are an excellent believer of the Lord."

"That goes without saying; in the current Farah Peninsula, except for those former nobles who were driven into the depths of the desert, who doesn't think the Sun Ring is doing a good job? Population growth, urban development, professional and obedient troops. So?"

The Priestess walked up to the old general: "That mage, do you know him?"

"Isn't a mage just a mage? If you say he is the president of the Northern Magic Society, then I know. It's just the leader of a magic association; doesn't the Farah Peninsula have to wipe out one or two reckless magic associations every year?"

The old general said unconvinced.

Unexpectedly, this Priestess smiled helplessly: "What is the scale of the magic associations you mentioned that were wiped out?"

Seeming to realize something, the old general said reluctantly: "At least three or five people, at most fewer than ten. You know, there are always some things left by predecessors in the desert; they not only attract scattered mages coming and going, but also occasionally teach magic knowledge to the desert residents."

Nodding, the Priestess said softly: "The number of Formal Mages registered in the Northern Magic Society last year was one thousand three hundred and thirty."

"How many?" The old general's voice rose by more than one pitch.

The Priestess's voice was even softer, but the old general, as a High Knight, could still hear clearly: "One thousand three hundred and thirty Formal Mages."

The old general's expression changed again and again, and he finally said with a stiff throat: "No one told me."

"General, now you know about this."

The old general looked at the Priestess's personal God's Staff in his hand, and after a while, he looked up and said: "Is the Sun Ring afraid?"

"Of course not. You don't understand; the Northern Magic Society itself is an organization founded by mages who escaped from the Empire a long time ago. They fear the Empire, and we oppose the Empire. Would the Sun Ring be afraid of them?"

"Then why tell me these things." The old general was a bit dissatisfied.

"Because."

"Because of what?"

The Priestess revealed a smile, her hands raised high above her head, palms open as if holding something: "The Lord has personally issued a decree; He has made arrangements."

The old general's breathing stalled for a moment, and after pondering for a while, he began to laugh along.

"Is it time?"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. Regardless of the outcome, one must try, must one not?"

The old Mage sent out several cat mages to retrieve the Mage Donilafa and reconcile with the local authorities.

These matters did not seem like big deals to him, and he was not interested in the backstory of the incident caused by Mage Donilafa; after all, he was so busy.

As could be seen, he was reviewing various documents sent over by the Magic Society with the help of Koni.

Intelligence reports, experimental applications, financial audits, invitations from high-ranking officials, processing opinions, and so on—these matters occupied a large portion of his visible time. Only when he rested could he properly relax.

A small pinch of delicious tobacco obtained from an adventure in another world, a cup of clear, sweet, and refreshing beverage—this was his simple way of relaxing. He suddenly felt something was missing. After pondering for a moment, he snapped his fingers, opened a circular Space Channel beside him, and a tiny, gorgeous fairy flew out.

The palm-sized, extremely beautiful fairy happily spun and danced in the air before the old Mage, but the old Mage stroked his long white beard, feeling that something was not right.

So he pushed the fairy back into the Space Channel.

He then spread his hands, and a massive painting suddenly appeared from the void, slapping the air as it unfolded.

This painting hung in the air, remaining steadily motionless. The content of the painting was glorious and magnificent, depicting a grand battlefield. Anyone with a bit of insight could see from the complex details of the painting that this was not any war that had ever occurred in the world.

But at the bottom of the painting, where various armies were attacking as if facing a formidable enemy, there was nothing at all.

No, looking closely, it seemed that in the place where there appeared to be nothing, surrounded by countless armies, a tiny, ink-black dot had been painted in the air.

After examining the painting for a while, the old Mage felt somewhat dissatisfied, muttering to himself: "Where was it that large and conspicuous?"

Waving his hand to make the painting fade and disappear, the old Mage paced back and forth, pondering for a while, when he suddenly had a whim and began rummaging through the sleeves of his mage robe.

"Not this one, not this one either. Eh? There are quite a few of these, but this isn't it either." After searching for a long time, he finally pulled a Pirate Parrot out of his mage robe sleeve with satisfaction.

As soon as this Pirate Parrot was taken out of the sleeve, it was full of the foul language often spoken by sailors, but the old Mage felt very happy. He placed the parrot on top of his head, felt it wasn't right, and then took the parrot into his hand.

That didn't feel quite right either.

The Pirate Parrot could not stand it anymore: "Captain! Captain! Shoulder, shoulder!"

The old Mage suddenly realized. He loosened his palm, leveled his arm, and let the parrot hop onto his shoulder by itself.

"Hehe, that's the right feel." He muttered to himself, though he corrected the little animal on his shoulder: "It's Captain, you must call me Captain."

This Pirate Parrot was very intelligent, with an intellect no lower than an ordinary person: "Yes, Captain! Ship? Where is the ship?" The parrot saw the distant sea from the room's glass window; it didn't ask the question of where the sea was.

"Ship? It is not here. It has a lot of work to do. Sigh, I haven't sailed it for a long time; I don't know if it misses its Captain." The old Mage sighed.

Just at this moment, Mage Koni opened the door and walked in.

He glanced at the parrot on his teacher's shoulder, thought for a moment, and remembered this little animal that had accompanied them across the ocean.

"Teacher, it is time for a meal." Koni said somewhat reluctantly.

The old Mage stroked the parrot standing obediently on his shoulder: "Yes, you are growing, you must eat more nutrient-rich food. Let me see, ah, here it comes."

Having said that, the old Mage pointed at the dining room, and the sound of things landing on the dining table came from the adjacent room.

"Go on, eat more, please don't be a picky eater!" Glaring at his student Koni, who was always a picky eater, the old Mage began to tease the Pirate Parrot.

Mage Koni went to the dining room to eat reluctantly. The food rich in Magic Power elements had been prepared by Mage Halao and then transmitted over by the old Mage using Space Magic.

To outsiders, this would be a fantasy, but to the old Mage, who used Space Magic as easily as raising a dog, this was merely a casual act.

Just as he was resting slightly and teasing the little animal, the cross-space remote information exchange system in the study—the Space Mailbox—emitted a "ding" sound.

The old Mage raised his eyebrows. That thing would not make a sound for ordinary official documents; it would only cast a spell to place the documents in a stack on the side desk after receiving them.

He only set it to sound an alert for some important documents or when a close friend sent a letter.

Knowing the situation of the Society well, he knew the Society had no important matters at all, and the only situation where he might receive a reply recently was naturally the reply to the letter he had previously written to his friend.

For old immortals like them, they basically would not contact each other for several years. He had sent a letter previously, and the sound at this moment must be a reply from his friend, who was the president of the Southern Magic Society.

"Haha, lucky parrot!" The old Mage stroked the feathers of the parrot on his shoulder with satisfaction, then produced a small bag between his fingers, directed it to be placed upside down on the parrot's head, and blocked its vision.

"Don't move, this is for your own good, little one."

Sitting in the chair, the old Mage took the item. Sure enough, judging from the exuberant Magic Power emanating from the envelope, it was indeed a reply written by his friend.

Honorable Mage:

Your equally 'honorable' friend, Naingrom-Salsdoro, sends greetings to you and me here, wishing that our mutual hearts for Magic advancement remain as clear and brilliant as in the past.

I noticed the problem you mentioned in your previous letter a long time ago. Regarding this, I hold roughly the same view as you: the students, the colleagues, the students of the colleagues—the situation we encountered hundreds of years ago is happening to them now.

Namely, the habituation to and pursuit of power and status.

They might have mistaken one thing: what brings power and status is not power and status themselves, but Magic!

Truly pathetic. Many things.

Good friend, regarding those cowardly mages you mentioned who have lost their enterprising spirit, it is a pity that the same thing is appearing on a large scale here as well.

They no longer attempt to try new Magic things undiscovered by their predecessors, but instead idly gorge themselves on the false honey brought to them by power and status, and after their lifespans are exhausted, they turn to using risk-free methods to become, in my view, demented Undead.

This might allow them to live a few more days, but what of it? Chasing power and status with the same people all day long. Ridiculous! I am different from you; you are too shy, that won't do. I reprimand them directly, but their withered, Undead-like faces only reveal a little shame, and then silence.

They are resisting; perhaps they fear my power, or perhaps they just haven't prepared a plan to overthrow me?

What can I do?

The Society has developed rapidly in the last two hundred years, and a few decades ago, it even dealt a heavy blow to the arrogant Empire. The ones who accomplished this were them, all good young men.

At least they were good young men once.

Regarding this, I transferred away the mages who were not to my liking. Although unwilling, they left. Out of sight, out of mind; truly, I am much more relaxed this way, although I know that where I cannot see, they will only cultivate the young sprouts learning Magic into Magic Nobles exactly like themselves.

This is the identity of the Empire mages they once struck down.

Your letter mentioned the matter of the Sunlight Lord. Fortunately, I can see the flying cities of the Sunlight Elf twice a year here. How romantic, that powerful Elf Magic, and the courage and determination to pursue the sunlight for eternity.

It is a pity that their cities fly too fast, and the timing of their appearance is not fixed. Whenever my subordinates report it, I can only sit atop the high tower and watch the distant shadows streaking across the sky.

I thought before, one cannot just spend several days waiting for a city that doesn't know when it will streak across the sky just to say hello to them.

However, I am quite interested in the information you mentioned regarding your High Elf friend's account of how the Elves among them survived the crisis we are currently facing.

Perhaps, and I mean perhaps, I could set aside a few days to wait for the Sunlight Elf flying city.

I hope your information is reliable; if it isn't, then I would be too foolish, having done a foolish thing.

When the time comes, you must come over and prove for me that the foolish thing I have done contains a mysterious significance that they cannot understand. (Do not tell them the truth!)

Although it might lead some apprentice Mages astray, taking a few days off every year to do nothing is actually a form of Magic cultivation!!!

Calculating the days, they should be passing by my location sometime within these next few days.

After receiving the letter, wait for my news at any time.

Remember to destroy the letter after reading it!

Your old friend.

Nanyingluomu-Saersiduoluo

The President of the Southern Magic Society who keeps company with the sea breeze all day long.

After reading the letter, the old Mage gave it a flick, and the entire letter, written in High Elf Language, collapsed into a single point before annihilating into pure, explosive energy.

He used Space Magic to transfer this energy into a space unknown, and it did not cause the slightest impact on the study where he was located.

"Alright, you can take the bag off your head now," the old Mage said with a chuckle.

The Pirate Parrot, which had long since been unable to endure the bag, used its claws to remove the small bag covering its head; it looked left and right, finding nothing different from before.

"Captain! Captain! Where is our ship?" the parrot feigned ignorance.

"Call me Commander. The ship is not in this world; it is busy." The old Mage began to organize official documents, but his mind was not on the documents.

Of course, as someone whose mind can multitask, he would not be unable to do one thing while thinking about another. This is something many Mages can achieve; after all, many large-scale Magic spells are difficult to complete alone, but what is one to do when one only has one's own hands? One still has to rely on developing oneself to complete them alone.

Mage Koni returned after finishing his meal, his face full of dissatisfaction with the food.

"Heh heh, Halao's craftsmanship is at the top level in the world; where could you possibly find dissatisfaction? Countless kings and Nobles beg him all day long to cook them a meal and cannot get it. And it is even food rich in Magic Power that is beneficial to the body," the old Mage said, looking at Koni's expression.

Hearing the criticism, Koni's face looked even worse, and he complained: "Teacher, the usual is fine, but I don't know what new ingredients he brought into the city today; it was too bizarre."

"Oh, what kind of ingredient? Could it make our little gourmet dissatisfied?" the old Mage teased.

Koni gestured for a while, then irritably found a pen and began to draw on the back of an official document.

Having received guidance from a professional painter at home when he was young, he drew the appearance of the food he had just eaten in a few simple strokes. It was a large ant slightly smaller than a dinner plate.

The parrot on his shoulder saw what Koni had drawn and cried out loudly: "Ant! Ant! Help! Help!"

"That is the thing, a very large ant. The taste, uh, was a bit sour, and it had abundant earth, wind, and life Magic Power; it really was hard on him, I don't know where he got that thing from," Koni complained.

The old Mage stroked his beard, reached into the sleeve of his robe to search, and after rummaging for a long while, finally pulled out a book that looked quite new.

"Look, a travelogue published by Mage Donilafa half a century ago! I read this travelogue as a pastime, and it seems to mention this thing inside. Let me see." As he spoke, the old Mage used his fingers to spread the thick travelogue and flipped through it quickly, then closed his eyes slightly and accurately found a page.

"Look here. Desert Weaver Ant, huge in size; a high-level Desert Weaver Ant is a magical creature, a precious treasure!" Seeing Koni's strange expression, the old Mage coughed awkwardly: "Well, perhaps the book is a bit exaggerated, but Halao letting you taste a treasure must have taken a lot of effort. This is a good intention."

"Who knows where he got that thing from? Ouch." Koni sat back in his seat, listless.

The old Mage tapped the table: "Cheer up, the cats are back, and our Mage Donilafa has arrived too."