Chapter 296: Tower Spirit

The setting sun over the Enok Desert stains the horizon a dark crimson like dried blood, and the weathered sandstone walls warp like ghostly shadows in the heat.

The Crimson Sand Fortress— the Red Robe Mage Association's Sai Er—its fang on the desert's eastern edge lies like a crawling giant beast, and the Arcane runes etched on the black‑iron gate glow like molten lava.

The scarlet spire standing at the fortress's heart resembles a dagger thrust into the heavens; the Arcane crystal hovering atop continuously projects a warning Magic Net into the sky, cloaking the surrounding ten‑mile radius of dunes in a blood‑colored aura.

On the training ground of the Mage Tower's lower level, thirty red‑robe apprentices mechanically drill a formation of fire arrows. Their sweat evaporates before a drop falls, and the collars of their robes are whitened by salt, yet none dare pause—because atop the newly erected obsidian platform, the silver‑scaled Juan Ce Long Naimi Xisi gazes down at everything.

"Seventh column, mana output overlimit for 0.3 seconds," Naimi Xisi's voice is calm as ice. A dragon claw lightly taps the stone platform, a flash of silver sweeps the ranks, and the apprentice on the far right suddenly screams and collapses, the flame at his fingertips exploding uncontrollably and turning his cuff to ash. "Arcane is a profoundly intelligent art; the Red Robe Mage Association truly accepts any cat or dog as an apprentice."

The training ground is dead silent, save for the wounded's gasp and the rustle of sand striking the walls. In the platform's shadow, the high‑ranking red‑robe Ba Su, the fortress's overseer, slowly steps forward; his fingers beneath the deep‑red robe tremble with humiliation, yet his voice remains cold and hard as iron: "Continue the drills. The next fool who errs again, I will personally toss him into the incineration chamber."

The apprentices rigidly reform their ranks, while Ba Su's peripheral gaze remains fixed on the Juan Ce Long.

Three days ago, after he submitted to the Juan Ce Long, the two concealed this secret.

Because Naimi Xisi learned that Ba Su's tenure at the Crimson Spire is nearing its end, he will soon be reassigned to Sai Er headquarters, at which point he will become the authority within the Red Robe Mage Association second only to the eight chief leaders.

Whether the Red Robe Mage Association would permit a dragon‑subjugated individual to access secrets, Naimi Xisi discovered that the Tower Spirit of the Crimson Spire exists independently of the entire fortress, serving directly under Sai Er headquarters. To keep the secret and cover up that day's battle, they fabricated a story.

After that, Naimi Xisi, feeling justified, remained in the fortress under the title "Consultant," and began to wield authority everywhere.

After night fell, Naimi Xisi entered the core chamber of the Crimson Spire. The room's walls were lined with mana conduits resembling blood vessels, and within the central cylindrical glass pod floated a pale youth—Wu Ermu, the bearer of Cursed Flame. Arcane shackles bind his wrists, yet the blue‑white fire dancing in his palm silently sears the restraining runes.

"You're evading again," the silver‑scaled Juan Ce Long's silver scales glint coldly under the magic crystal lamp; its claw tip lightly taps the glass pod, and mana seeps in, forming fine threads that coil around the boy's arm. "Cursed Flame will not extinguish from guilt… it only devours your sanity."

Wu Ermu curls at the pod's base, the fire reflecting twisted visions in his pupils—burning tents, his foster mother's charred corpse, the old shaman's outstretched hand just before the Cursed Flame consumed him. "I can't control it…" the boy rasps, "Whenever the flame ignites, I see them… I see that I killed everyone!"

Naimi Xisi's dragon eyes narrow slightly, the silver threads snap taut, and mana pushes the Cursed Flame back into the boy's palm: "Then face it head‑on. The Cursed Flame is your bloodline, not your sin."

The gravity field inside the glass pod suddenly reverses, pulling Wu Ermu toward the ceiling by an unseen force, and the Cursed Flame erupts uncontrollably. He howls, flailing his arms, the blue‑white fire raging wildly within the pod, yet it never breaches the restraint of the silver threads.

Seeing this, Naimi Xisi shakes his head; as energy born wholly of the heart, mana truly can resist the Cursed Flame's all‑consuming Arcane nature.

But that is all it can do.

If Wu Ermu ever fails to untie his heart's knot and confront the Cursed Flame, he will remain forever trapped in its torment.

Before the Juan Ce Long turns to leave, it whispers, "If your older brother were still alive, he probably wouldn't want you to torture yourself like this."

Wu Ermu's body trembles, the surrounding Cursed Flame gradually shows signs of fading. He draws a deep breath, a flash of resolve crossing his eyes.

Indeed, for his older brother, he must master this power. His older brother would surely wish to see himself living happily.

——

In the Arcane secret chamber atop the spire, Ba Su stares blankly at a crystal sphere. The orb suddenly glows with blood‑red light, and a metallic face composed of runes materializes—a projection of the Tower Spirit "Crimson Eye."

"Master Ba Su," the Tower Spirit's voice sounds like gears grinding against a skull. "According to Magic Net records, in the past 72 hours the fortress's Arcane defense array was triggered zero times, and the training ground's mana fluctuations dropped abnormally by 87%. Explain."

The red‑robe's fingertip unconsciously rubs the Sai Er emblem on the bone chair's armrest: "I am executing the 'Shadow Countermeasure Plan'—the Scattered Tower Forest Society's assassins recently acquired some kind of Shadow‑realm gear, which you know, and the conventional defense system led by Arcane puppets has failed. This is a test record of a new 'Arcane Bait', which, by reducing the primary Magic Net output, lures the enemy into misjudging the fortress's weak points."

Ba Su feels somewhat frustrated at this point; although he acts on the dragon's orders to covertly cut the Tower Spirit's external‑sensing runes, the reason is not fabricated.

The thieves in the Iron Jaw Fortress's sewers somehow obtained a cache of extra‑planar gear that is clearly not Frelen‑style, greatly boosting their strength; even the previously most effective Arcane puppets were outmatched against them.

"Fact confirmed, recommendation: avoid engaging the Scattered Tower Forest Society in conflict in the short term."

Then, the Tower Spirit's pupils emit red light, reflecting the Juan Ce Long's silhouette within the crystal sphere. "Why can that giant dragon freely enter and exit the Crimson Spire? Sai Er's iron law forbids external beings from accessing Tier‑One classified zones."

Ba Su's fingertip pierces his palm, the searing pain of a soul contract warning him against leaking: "He is a 'Consultant'… the Scattered Tower Forest Society's receipt of those logistical supports may stem from an alliance with an unknown power; we need draconic ancient knowledge to reinforce defenses."

Ba Su's hastily concoced excuse clearly fails to fool the Tower Spirit.

!

"Recommendation: execute the outsider immediately, or I will trigger the emergency protocol and apply to Sai Er headquarters for arbitration," the Tower Spirit's rune‑formed face begins to disassemble and reassemble, a prelude to a teleportation spell.

"Wait," Ba Su's pupils narrow, interjecting, "The dragon said he knows who the collaborators behind the Iron Jaw Fortress are; I'm extracting that intel, don't ruin my plan."

The Tower Spirit's red light flickers: "Refutation: the forces behind the Scattered Tower Forest Society are certainly not something a single Juan Ce Long can fully comprehend."

Ba Su's expression freezes, a hint of surprise. The Tower Spirit's remark implies he has some knowledge of the forces behind the Scattered Tower Forest Society?

Indeed, the chief of the Divination Department within the Red Robe Mage Association successfully reached the Legendary realm last year, likely having already uncovered the Red Robe Mage Association's major rival factions.

The Tower Spirit seems to realize its statement was off; the red light in its pupils wanes, and its tone relaxes: "…24 hours. If no effective results are submitted, I will assume control of the fortress."

After the projection fades, Ba Su collapses onto the bone chair, his black robe soaked with cold sweat. The secret chamber's hidden door slides open silently, and Naimi Xisi leans against the doorway, his claw tip twiddling a Sai Er headquarters communication badge—a component stripped from the Tower Spirit's core.

"Your promotion documents have arrived at Sai Er's capital," the Juan Ce Long crushes the badge into powder, "If you can endure until tomorrow night… you'll step into the Red Robe Council and become one of their 'insiders.'"

(End of Chapter)