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The Crimson Robed Mages

In Sael, apprentices are regarded as the future stars of magic, their journey fraught with challenges and opportunities. Drawing wisdom from the ancient magical traditions, the apprentices of Sael embark on an adventure to seek self-discovery. As their knowledge expands, they will encounter ever more trials, yet they will also embrace a brighter future.

sealys_van · Sci-fi
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63 Chs

Chapter 60: The Laws

Wealth and power may bestow glory, yet offer scant assistance on the path of the arcane. Those shadowy hands that wield authority over Sael seem to grasp this truth profoundly.

However, in the span of Hughes's discourse, Panini glimpsed a corner of the vast black curtain shrouding Sael lifting, revealing a dim aspect that caused his soul to tremble deeply.

"Ah, you see, the six noble families cannot ensure that each of their offspring is a prodigy in the study of magic. Yet, Sael's history dictates that the nation's authority must remain in the hands of the Red Robes. Therefore, it is necessary for the Guild to absorb fresh blood from the populace.

Hence, the Guild only selects pure-blooded descendants of Murholand as reserves, a demand also voiced by the six noble houses. The criteria for selecting Guild members are not complex. The upper echelons of Sael do not mind how gifted new Red Robes are, but they will absolutely not accept individuals with excessively rebellious personalities and ambitious aspirations, coupled with extraordinary talent. Those with extreme and radical tendencies are even less desirable, for history teaches us that such individuals only drift further away from the Guild.

Hence, these types of apprentices are usually dealt with, as allowing them to wield the knowledge of the Red Robes recklessly is hardly a commendable deed... Oh? What's that expression? Feeling cruel? Haha, it seems you haven't fully grasped it yet. But who told you that the Guild is a charitable organization? You should really kill them."

Do not feel aggrieved by this; we aristocratic offspring have not received much favor. Without the gift of sorcery, life itself becomes a tragedy, oh! You mustn't envy those poor souls who can't even choose their own marriages.

As for someone like me, blessed with magical talent, my fate is scarcely better, and perhaps even worse. We must conceal our identities to compete with you in the lower academies. If we perish within, it only proves our unworthiness of noble status. Of course, sometimes our families seek vengeance for us—this is also a reason why some apprentices are directly eliminated by their mentors. But the nobility will never cease their children from participating in such competitions. You see, in our nation, lacking competitiveness is tantamount to being worthless, undeserving of the red robe, let alone noble status...

Hmm, perhaps I should consider myself fortunate. I have twelve cousins of the same generation; after we successively entered the lower academies, only three of us survived, including myself. How does this number compare to the elimination rate among your commoners?

Well, the game has reached this point. Whether noble or commoner, there are probably few outstanding talents left who meet the upper standards. The number of noble offspring is probably sufficient; the remainder either perish or possess insufficient talent, only fit to be peripheral members and certainly not worthy of knowing what I'm talking about. Hmm, perhaps they may know a little more, but they definitely cannot touch the core of Sael's power.

Hmm, now you probably understand a bit about the rules of the game, don't you?

In our realm, the six noble houses reign supreme, while the military and the eight schools of the Red Robe Wizards are mere adjuncts of the government. Occasionally, a single family may control an entire school—such as the Riem family, which currently dominates the school of transmutation. Oh, their influence is simply too formidable. The other schools comprise individuals from various families, and sometimes conflicts of interest among these families manifest as frequent upheavals within the academies. However, it is not as chaotic as outsiders imagine; the order of the Mage Council has always been under the control of the six noble houses. Each change is orchestrated within the grasp of these houses, and those who perish are deemed expendable by them. Hmm, the ignorant fools outside actually believe that the order of the Mage Council can be easily disrupted... Oh, we should be grateful that we have uncovered quite a few spies attempting to sow discord...

In fact, as long as the alliance of interests formed by the six major families does not rupture, a comprehensive internal upheaval within the Mage Council will not erupt.

How about it? The rules of the game in Sael are just that simple. Are you surprised? Actually, I shouldn't be telling you all this. Hmm, according to Sael's customs, I've already gone beyond the norm by divulging so much. But I don't want to see you blindly plunge into the abyss because of your irresponsible mentor."

As he departed, Hughes sighed and patted Panni's shoulder.

"Just a moment." Panni, after listening, called out to the departing Red Robe. "Thank you for telling me so much."

"Perhaps I've meddled too much." Hughes turned around, shaking his head gently. "But the Red Robe Mage Council is truly a place unbearable for ordinary folk. When making the final decision... Oh, forget it. For the people of Sael, there is no choice."

"Does it seem you harbor disdain for the Red Robe Mage Council?" Panni suddenly inquired.

"Who am I to claim otherwise?" Hughes lamented, spreading his hands in resignation. "My options are far narrower than those of you commoners."

With that said, he turned and walked away, leaving Panni to sit motionless for a while, his gaze gradually turning vacant.

Sichel...

Jonathan had brought him here to seek certification from the second-in-command of the Prophecy Department. It was evident that they belonged to the same lineage, making the most likely union partner quite apparent.

Could he truly accept such an arrangement?

Panni pondered this, realizing he had no room for choice.

Yet, his mood took a peculiar turn, for he was uncertain if discussing marriage with someone barely fifteen or sixteen was appropriate. Although in the customs of Sael, such discussions at this age were not uncommon.

Due to his upbringing as a celibate monk under the Heavenly Dao, Panni had a rather liberal attitude towards romantic affairs. In other words, he was an unrestrained and lascivious scoundrel, evident from his lifelong aspiration at birth, indicating no psychological pressure in engaging in amorous relationships with numerous beauties. However, the thought of discussing marriage at such a young age left him feeling awkward.

The unease intensified at the thought that the potential partner could be Sichel.

He was unsure of the nature of his feelings towards Sichel, but judging from the discomfort within his heart, the desire born from passion seemed insufficient, leaning more towards a sense of fraternal affection.

In other words, from Panni's perspective, discussing marriage with Sichel lacks a solid emotional foundation.

Ah!

The sense of awkwardness grew more pronounced, and Panni could only sigh in deeper despondency.

Finally, he persuaded himself that clinging to past notions of marriage and love in this world was a luxury. How many people in Feren could truly control their own destinies?

Fortunately, he at least knew Sichel.

If it were someone else, he would likely feel even more at a loss. At the thought of this, Panni became apprehensive again. If things didn't turn out as he hoped, he would have to accept another unfamiliar woman as his lifelong partner.

As these thoughts crossed his mind, his facial expression twisted, then relaxed, only to quickly turn into a wry smile. He suddenly remembered that things couldn't possibly be as bad as they seemed.

It was the influence of his past education that led him to recall the saying, "While the family flag flies, the colorful banners flutter outside," isn't it?

Panni's mouth twitched, trying to laugh but failing. Ultimately, he shuffled back to his room like a walking corpse, pushing open the door. With a casual glance inside, his pupils suddenly dilated. He quickly shut the door, instinctively looked up, and found no doorplate, unsure if he had entered the wrong room.

"Come in, you haven't entered the wrong room," the door opened automatically, a spell Panni recognized as the Mage Hand.

"So, why are you here, Lady Lijita?" Panni walked into the room, furrowing his brows as he looked at the female mage sitting at the desk.

...the Abyss.

The muscular succubus observed the writhing mass of flesh worms boiling in the Eye of Styx, filled with hesitation.

A lesser demon was fervently feasting on the newborn larvae within the spring, the vile chaotic energies merging with corrupt souls. Though these larvae born from this unholy fusion lacked substantial power, they were the prime sustenance for demons, offering potent chaos essence. If a lesser demon devoured all the larvae here, it would gain considerable chaotic strength, enough for several evolutions.

Yet, this method was not efficient; the Eye of Styx, once depleted of chaotic energy in one fell swoop, would swiftly wither from lack of vitality. More astute demons would nurture these larvae, ensuring the spring's continuity to prevent depletion—a far-sighted and beneficial approach.

Although the succubus believed he lacked the time and resources for such endeavors, he couldn't bear to see a mere lesser demon squander this vast reservoir of chaotic power. He hesitated, contemplating whether to leap in and seize the lesser demon. Yet, he harbored apprehension towards his vanished rat master. How could he defy its will before eliminating the rat?

However, it was Belen who personally cast the cunning demon Adi into the abyss.

As he watched the diminishing font of power, he couldn't suppress his anguish and heartache.

Gritting his teeth, he was about to step forward when suddenly a silver light streaked from the direction of the Mage Tower. He trembled all over, immediately freezing in place.

"Master, I humbly welcome your illustrious presence," the succubus bowed so low to the descending mouse, his heart dripping blood.

Though Di Sandaro was no high-ranking demon, he was not an unknown entity within the layers of the Abyss he had inhabited. Yet now, he found himself groveling before a mere mouse.

Even faced with a slightly taller berserker demon, he wouldn't feel so despondent.

Belen glanced at the succubus, keenly aware of Di Sandaro's thoughts. However, having just acquired a treasure, it chose to overlook the servant's disrespect for now, perching on a stone by the side of the spring, bowing its head to gaze into its depths.

The succubus, curious about the mouse's actions, watched as Belen spat out a small octagonal metal block. As the metal block landed in the water, a surge of intense agitation rippled across the spring, as if the entire spring suddenly boiled!

With a cry from the spring, Adi, as if suddenly fried, smoked and scrambled out of the water. It emitted strong chaotic vibes, with some limbs already starting to mutate—clearly, its evolution had been forcefully halted.

Di Sandaro gaped at the larvae in the spring, which, amidst a series of explosions, turned into flashes of colorful gas, entering through the small hole at the top of the octagonal metal block. The capacity of this metal block seemed infinite, quickly draining the entire spring.

As the mouse took a breath, the small metal block that had absorbed the essence of the Stygian Spring returned to its belly. Its body instantly radiated a dark red light, dazzling the lesser demon and the succubus, momentarily blinding them. When their vision cleared, they saw their rodent master had grown three sizes larger. The once all-blue pupils now had a deep red center, while the tip of its tail emitted a dark red glow, resembling flames from afar.

The succubus was astounded; it knew the mouse had absorbed the essence of the spring, successfully undergoing some form of evolution. But to drain a spring so rapidly was incredible; even high-ranking Balor demons wouldn't dare attempt such a feat—inhaling such immense chaotic energy in a short time would make any demon lose control.

"Oh, master, you are truly magnificent," the imp exclaimed in astonishment, forgetting momentarily the pain of its failed evolution.

Belen examined his body's condition with a displeased mood. The transformed Abyssal power flowed into his form like a rivulet merging into the vast sea. While it made him stronger, it failed to transform his life form. He vaguely sensed that achieving such a transformation required an almost astronomical amount of power, a realization that left him inexplicably disheartened.

Witnessing the sorry state of the imp's body, Belen exhaled a breath, and a wave of chaotic energy sprayed onto the imp. Adi, pleasantly surprised, found the halted evolution due to insufficient power resuming. He joyously exclaimed, "The magnificent Lord Lachlas is evolving! Oh, wow! What's happening? What's going on?!"

Amidst the imp's jubilation, it suddenly realized that its transformation process, under some form of interference, shifted from evolution to degeneration. Terrified, it cried out in panic, yet the overwhelming force of will made resistance futile. Soon, it found itself flailing its treacherous limbs in despair, "Master, master, why do you intervene?"

Belen cast a sidelong glance at Adi; to him, this appearance suited the imp's nature better.

The succubus was once again astonished. He observed Belen's interference in the evolution process of a demon. Even with a soul contract in place, this was not something an ordinary demon could achieve. Moreover, he could discern that although Adi's evolution process was terminated, the acquired power did not dissipate but remained within its form.

As he trembled with apprehension, he saw the mouse blink its eyes, which were tinged with blue and red, and turn its head towards him. His heart skipped a beat as a broad, guileless face broke into a flattering smile, masking his inner turmoil. "Great master... ah!"

Before he could finish his words, he felt a fierce assault on his soul and instantly lost consciousness.

...

"Why should I not be able to appear here? You never told me I couldn't come in." Beside the desk, the female mage sat gracefully on the bench, her fingers gently tapping the frosted hardwood tabletop. A soft, watery glow emanated from her fingertips to the side of her cheek, but as it spread to the top of her head, the faint red snake tattoo added a touch of allure.

Though her features were not exquisite, her posture exuded a sense of teasing and invitation, especially with the red robe scattered on the floor beside the chair, and the sheer robe on her body partially dampened.

Panini glanced sideways at the bathroom, still shrouded in lingering steam, and felt his restless heartbeat slightly calm. He looked up at Licita's slightly dreamy face. "Lady, appearing like this in the room of a single man is a dangerous move."

"Dangerous? For me? Or perhaps... for you?" Licita shifted her posture, exposing her body directly to Panini's view through the translucent fabric. Through the semi-transparent veil, Panini noticed that the mage's body was not as unremarkable as it seemed, at least in the areas where it mattered.

"I have checked; there will be no scrying spells around. I have been here long enough to know how to deal with them."

As he heard the female mage speak with such a lazy tone, Panini's heart leaped once again. Since his transformation by Vika before going to the Northland until now, Panini had not felt such anticipation. Though female Red Robes were intriguing, their glasses and semi-transparent garments provided a unique stimulus to his hypothalamic neurons. Under the command of hormones, a certain flag had gradually been raised.

"Come on, that's right. Don't think about anything else. My body is mature enough, and I believe you are too." Licita glanced at Panini's lower body and smiled. Although the smile on her face was far from seductive—like expecting creaminess in plain tea—yet it held a peculiar allure. If a person known for purity suddenly turned lascivious, the effect was indeed remarkable.

A slender hand reached slowly towards Panini's lower body, only to be gripped by another slightly rougher hand.

"Lady, I must say, compared to the information conveyed by your expression, your muscles seem a bit tense." Panini frowned, pressing Licita's arm with his fingers. "Or is there something else you want to discuss with me?"

The female Red Robe's expression froze in an instant.