Chapter 33: Rekindling

It was already within Victoria and Saria’s expectation that someone would probably come and try to assassinate the princess today. After all, Victoria’s masterpiece had burned the bridges between the renegade nobles and the crown. There was nothing else to talk about. It was either dead or alive.

As for the prime minister, that man’s chances of accepting the royal invitation was nothing low. Instead of going to the capital and gamble his life, the prime minister might rather hide somewhere while calling the shots. So they had expected some retaliation. That slick minister wasn’t some easy prey. Nevertheless, it’s better to take the chance especially when it’s already being offered on a silver plate. If the prime minister comes, that’ll be great. But if he does not, at least, they’ll be able to cull a few more threats.

After being reminded by Victoria’s naggings at least a hundred times, she had kept her guard up. Her lilac-haired niece wasn’t a fan of surprises unlike her. Thus, she had cast detection spells of all kinds throughout the castle.

Nevertheless, she was still surprised that it was someone she was familiar with. Truthfully, she had been looking for the man in the last few years but all his trails seemingly vanished in thin air. She never thought that he would show himself like this. The man was an old friend… and her master’s former disciple.

The lurking shadow squirmed akin to a living, slithering all over the wide corridor. It refused to show itself, only uttering some short regards. However, the hiding guest’s greetings had nothing but bloodlust, not even a tint of happiness or joy after seeing the archmage.

The man’s fury spilled into the long threads of obscure shade. “S-a-r-i-a!”

"Oh, so you're not mute after all," sneered Saria, cautiously watching her surroundings especially the roaming shadows. She gripped her white-hued magical staff with one hand. A raging blue aura dripped out of her, banging against the roaming darkness. She was ready to bust the first head that would pop out of the dingy shadow.

Holding the white staff tighter with every passing second, her senses had reached their peak. Her eyes constricting, focusing on what might happen next. Her battle-honed instincts warning her of the man in the shadows.

Initially, Saria wanted to just go the usual boom-boom route. Unfortunately, the walls in almost all the parts of the castle were made of anti-magic bricks, rendering that choice impossible to accomplish. Though not impossible, casting massive scale magic capable of tearing down the castle was a stupid choice according to Victoria. That would make it far difficult to control the damage it would cause in the castle’s surroundings, even possibly affecting the morale of the soldiers, citizens, and traitors in a not-so-nice way. No one aside from her wanted to blow up the whole castle to make life easier. Thus, the suggestion ended up as scrap paper under Victoria’s guidance and pleas.

“As patient as ever, Alfonse. I never thought you’ll go rogue. Our teacher made the right choice to kick you out while it was still early,” said Saria. “The guild master of the infamous assassin’s guild, huh. Now, ain’t that perfect for someone as gloomy as you?”

The lady archmage waited for any response but heard none. Her eyebrows rose further along with her guard. The man had learned a lot since the last time she saw him. Her scathing remarks invited nothing aside from that short grunt. If it was a few years ago, the man would just lunge at her, only to end up beaten one-sidedly, above and under his whacking staff. Ah, how she missed those bloody times.

“Boring...” yawned Saria. “Oh, I almost forgot I have news for you. Remember the bitchy snake called Minerva? Did you get the news? She’s your lover right? You know what...”

…

The writhing shadow froze as if it was waiting for the next words.

Saria cracked an evil smirk. “I killed her.”

A single dark dagger swished, diving straight to Saria’s chest from a dead angle. The black dagger was gnawed by the darkness, making it hard to detect. It gave away nothing aside from the delayed booming shockwave coming from its original owner. The man called Alfonse had thrown it with all of his strength after seeing a thing called chance.

[Distortion]! The archmage waved her unblemished white staff, uttering only a single word, unlike ordinary mages who had to cast long rhymes with their lips just to get it right. The space around her suddenly trembled, a thin crack in the space emerged, exactly holding the dashing dagger as if time had stopped in its midst. The dagger froze midair after getting stuck in the wide-open cracked, it lost its dark luster, returning to its roots as a plain old throwing knife.

“Haha, I found you, rat.” The burgundy cape she wore flapped in the air, counterattacking as soon as she was able to. Saria had begun her assault. She smashed her white staff’s gem into the ground, pounding it like a barbarian. A flicker of light rose from its tip, then mana burst forth.

[Wallowing Ground]!

The castle’s floor turned mushed as the anti-magic bricks tried to counter the spell. Just in a few seconds, the ground recovered to what it was before. Nevertheless, a pair of shoes had been stuck in the ground. The shadows moved hastily to hide the tracks but Saria was fast enough to throw her next spell, pointing her staff towards the same direction.

[Earth Spikes]!

In mere seconds, a flow of mana drifted from Saria’s feet, drifting towards the stuck boots. All of a sudden, an earthen razor-sharp spike made of the castle’s anti-magic ground speared upwards. A groan echoed as the shadow of a man wearing cryptic assassin clothes rose in the air as the sharp spike impaled him.

Blood gushed out from the man’s mouth, dripping on the side of his lips. Not wasting her time, Saria immediately cast another spell, the tip of her white staff shone, a few weird circles appearing, “[Mana Cage].” A blue magic cage engulfed the man, giving him no chance at all.

“At least, you didn’t make it hard for me to search for you,” Saria glanced at the twitching assassin, sighing in relief. “Master was right to be wary of you. But she was wrong when she decided not to kill you.”

A tiny mechanical spider waltzed into Saria’s shoulder. She cuddled the little one, thanking it for alerting her with the dagger. ”It’s great that Victoria asked me to make these cute things through alchemy. If it was some else, they’ll be dead by now. Anyway, good to see you Alfonse, and goodbye.”

[Fire Pillar]! A tower of flame gushed forth from the ground where the body of the man remained motionless. The scorching flame filled the [Mana Cage] from within. The raging blaze rapidly ate the man alive, engulfing it akin to a delicious treat. The flame left nothing but a charred body.

Huffing, Saria took a look. After assuring herself that the charred man was dead, her shoulder saddled down. From the peak of caution, her vigilance ebbed down like the tide.

Using her sleeves, she removed the cold sweat dripping from her brows. The warmth around the royal corridor turned cold again. Taking another peek, she grinned. “Time to go back, [Teleport].

“Huh? [Teleport]?

[Teleport]!

The archmage checkout her white-hued staff, wondering if she broke the channeling gem. Yet, it was still fine. “What’s wrong with this staff?”

All of a sudden, a chill crept into her heart. The pupils in her emerald-colored eyes constricted, catching an amarantine-hued powder dyeing her staff’s once unblemished color. She tried casting simple magic but was not able to. Her lips quivered, gazing at the incredibly rare anti-magic powder called ‘Pixie Dust’. A rare magical ingredient that cuts off any mage’s connection to the elements, rendering mages nothing but ordinary humans. She lifted her staff, keeping her guard up.

“Now you’ve finally taken my bait, Saria. As expected of you Saria, you give me no chances at all so I must make one for myself.” An ordinary-looking man came out from the shifting shadows. A thread-like mirth arching in his lips. Two darker than night daggers laid quietly in his hands. If Victoria sees this man, she’ll know who it was on sight. It was the creepy ordinary-looking butler of the prime minister’s manor.

Seeing the white-hued staff being pointed at him, the ordinary-looking man giggled, “No spells are allowed.”

Saria immediately shifted her gaze at the charred body. The figure suddenly turned into fleeting black dust, a shadow coming out of it. “Tsk.”

“Anyway, you don’t need to inform me. I already knew long ago that you’ve killed Minerva.” Alfonse cackled like a madman. His smile turning arching up to his ears. “That’s why I replied in kind. I thought you have received the news properly.”

Saria pointed the white staff towards the ordinary man, squinting. She held her breath, ready to defend and attack at any moment.

Finding her tranquil face irritating, the butler frowned and decided to share a secret he only knew.

“You weren’t able to find the old master since last year right? In a light whisper, he smiled, uttering, “Don’t tell anyone okay… I have killed… the old hag.“

The archmage’s eyes shook, turning round like a ball. A stripe of crimson trickled after she bit her lips, a line of fury dripped from her eyes. “So it was you!”

“What? You killed my one and only Minerva.” The ordinary man chortled, shrugging his shoulders. “So I took the life of that damn old hag. Call it quits. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. Were you expecting something else from me?”

“I’ll kill you!” Saria rushed straight towards the assassin akin to a cannonball. The tall white-colored staff in her hands whipped like a spear. Sparks flew in the air as it met two sharp daggers in midair. The black dagger on his left hands tried to leave a cut on Saria’s smooth neck. Nevertheless, it was blocked as the staff retreated.

“Why are you angry! Minerva was my world!” The butler roared. The white staff and the black daggers crossed trails, sparks waltzed in the air, dancing like butterflies. The blasting shockwaves after each encounter spoke of the volume of how heavy the exchange of strikes was. Rather than a battle between a mage and an assassin, it was more like a battle between two brute knights.

The fast-paced exchange continued for a minute, making the assassin winced. He glared at the archmage, gazing at her like she was some sort of monster. There wasn’t even a hint of tiredness on Saria’s visage. The white-hued staff swiped forth like a tiger as if it was a long sword trying to bisect its enemies. Nevertheless, the butler blocked the white staff head-on, using the pushing inertia to jump away, retreating to take a breather.

“You evil scum! The old lady was the one who took you away from the slums! All for that vicious bitch, you’ve decided to kill our teacher?! Y-you shithead!” The archmage thundered. Despite her seemingly weak frame, Saria had also taken the difficult route of body strengthening like a warrior. She learned it from one of the top warriors of the Southern Defensive Walls, a dear friend of her teacher. Her staff skills tempered under the continuous and bloody onslaught of the war orc tribes.

All of a sudden, Alfonse’s shadow suddenly broke into six pieces, and from it emerged six shadows holding two sharp daggers. He wore a deranged smile, waving his hands in the air, ignoring and refusing any reason. “What teacher?! I loved Minerva more! That’s all the reason I need!”

The six shadows and Alfonse lunged towards the archmage, sticking at her closely, waiting for any gap to strike. Between the two, a sliver of mistake was the mere difference between life and death.