Welton's Furnace was created directly atop the remains of an attack during the Draconic Invasion. A dragon allegedly let loose a breath of flames that reached twenty kilometers below the ground, creating a massive gouge on the continent that will never heal. It is a testament to their mighty strength, a permanent reminder of the threat these beings impose on the world. The effects turned the mundane and magical ore along the sides into something greater due to the draconic influence. Their properties became warped and evolved, which the dwarves capitalized on and seized almost five hundred years ago. The dwarves of old specialized in mining for years to acquire every draconic-touched ore along the hole. Few metals have been introduced to the market by Welton's Royal Family, Starsteel, and Attainium. They were reported to originally be silver and mithril before evolving, which leads others to wonder what Welton's Furnace is holding onto. Many theorize that adamantium, orichalcum, and cold-iron that survived the dragon breath are the most powerful metals in existence. The Church of Pernatia along with Wisperium have established a treaty with Welton to protect the royal vault at all costs. Kingdoms have tried on multiple occasions to strong-arm, coerce, and attack Welton for their legendary metals, but no invasion has ever succeeded.

~ Dawn of Welton, by Cavendish Purplelog

While a prestigious title, the Archmage didn't come with as many responsibilities as one thought. Her occasional meeting with the royal family or other people of importance only happened once a week. While growing increasingly frequent, monster invasions didn't occur daily and could otherwise be handled by their military forces. Most of her day consisted of projects and teaching. Cerebella devoted a portion of her day to practicing her arcane skills or learning new ones. Although new spells and elements were much harder to come by nowadays. As a legendary figure that has existed for over a century, she has seen almost everything the world had to offer.

Cerebella was currently visiting one of her subordinate's experimentation rooms. The senior mages often received their own personal quarters where they could perform whatever projects they liked. It came with a multitude of features, such as a button that automatically sends a request for food so that the scholars don't need to leave their rooms. It was a frequent problem amongst all scholars to be so engrossed in their work and being forcefully carted off to attend to their daily needs. Assistants and other employees have living spaces within the rooms so that interns can work closely with their superiors. The Tower of Magic was the pinnacle of arcane arts, and few truly realized the scope of the building and how many lived within.

The Elway Kingdom poured a majority of its funds into the organization for whatever it required. It was a testament to their relationship with Cerebella and their focus on surpassing the Highlands as the premier of magicdom.

Her eyes which glowed like the night sky analyzed every inch of the room. It was clean and organized, with all sorts of diagrams and calculations present on the desks. The center of the room was home to a floating piece of fabric that seemed to defy all sorts of physics.

"Ilemae, it's been a while since I last checked up on you. How is your project going? The portable hole? I always saw it as an interesting concept but hard to commercialize."

Ilemae stood behind the floating woman, eager to talk about her findings. She was a much older human, at least forty to fifty years old with above-average features and scarlet hair. Cerebella idly noted how much older she'd gotten since they last met, but remembered that Ilemae had isolated herself to complete her projects. She occasionally published papers discussing her findings and results and was a diligent and studious scholar.

"Yes! Creating the portable hole required help from our conjurers. Gavin and the others were instrumental in its creation. The enchantments were incompatible with a majority of the materials I had so some research was done to find the proper silk which could withstand the numerous enchantments laid within."

"Interesting. How did you deal with the quantum breakdown of the material?"

"That's where I was having trouble. I found that Orbweaver Silk was especially good at containing enchantments and prevented any sort of breakdown in low-dimension phenomena. Most of my budget went towards procuring more."

"Quaint. Although your research and accomplishments so far have been astounding, I would like to ask you a simple question." They turned to the elderly woman with a small smile. It didn't quite reach her eyes. "Your budget has unlisted spending that our financial auditors flagged recently. Care to explain?"

Ilemae tilted her head, looking genuinely confused. "I'm afraid I don't know, ma'am. I can personally say that I've been spending all my budget on this project. I can hardly afford anything outside of it."

"You wouldn't mind going under...investigation, would you?"

"Of course, of course! Whatever you need, Archmage!" The human woman seemed quite eager to have this issue resolved as soon as possible. Cerebella narrowed her eyes, still suspicious of her senior subordinate. With her permission, the petite woman entered Ilemae's mind and linked theirs together.

Cerebella saw a small desk surrounded by the ocean. It was a peculiar mindscape, but the mage knew that everyone had something unique in their illustration of how their thoughts were organized. Most scholars she inspected had a library similar to hers, but not as large in scale. Few rivaled or even came close to the amount of knowledge she had stored within her brain.

She observed the mindscape and saw memories floating along the ocean. They mainly consisted of Ilemae's time in the room and her interactions with other scholars in the Tower of Magic. Nothing seemed out of place, but it only served to unsettle Cerebella even more. Her avatar went and sensed a minor fluctuation underneath the ocean waves. She took one step forward and fell into the deep waters, summoning an orb of light that illuminated the darkness. Nothing but rock and minerals, along with deposits of sand covered the area.

Cerebella zoned in on the minor fluctuation that she could feel, coming across a pit of sand. With a wave of her hand, she removed the sand and revealed an underground hatch. It looked positively ancient and rusted over due to its time underwater. The woman bent to open it but was met with a considerable amount of resistance. Using her magic powers, she strengthened her grip and wrenched the door open.

Darkness of unimaginable levels covered her peripheral vision, showing memories of a younger Ilemae interacting with a masked man. No words could be heard but a series of events transpired before Cerebella's eyes. From the perspective of her senior subordinate, she underwent numerous trials and tribulations; ranging from murder, electrocution, psychological conditioning, and chemical experiments.

Others could be seen in the memories, prepubescent children with dead eyes and blank expressions. For someone who had seen many atrocities in their long life, Cerebella fought her urge to vomit and dove further into the hidden past. Eventually, the traumatic memories subsided and she came across a nucleus of dark energy. It was powerful beyond measure, and she did her best to break it but the mind link was quickly broken and prevented any further action.

Ilemae clutched her head in agony, and the light in her eyes died and she quickly attacked Cerebella. Her mannerisms and body language changed within an instant, from a timid, frail senior to a skilled combatant. Just as the Archmage was about to summon a shield, an anti-magic field was deployed which encased the entire room. It was nigh imperceptible except for a certain shimmer around the outer edges, and the portable hole at the center of the room was inert and looked like regular, dark-grey fabric.

The familiar sheen of adamantium made its way towards the Archmage's throat, but she managed to grab the human's arm and twist it. A feat that was impressive for a half-elf of her stature.

"I feared the worst...I'm sorry, Ilemae." Cerebella said, holding the dagger arm and snapping it in half. The scarlet-haired scholar moved with agility and speed that shouldn't have been possible for her advanced age, retreating into the room. She blankly observed everything in the vicinity and confirmed that the anti-magic field was functioning perfectly. A near-invisible phenomenon similar to a heatwave occurred all around the room. Even the levitation spell she used to maintain flight had disappeared, leaving her standing alone to face the assassin without access to her greatest weapon and resource.

The elderly woman moved with cold efficiency while disregarding the broken arm. It hung limply at her side and she switched the adamantium dagger to her left hand without a twitch in her expression.

"True Strike."

'A rogue class?!'

Cerebella stepped back, unprepared for the burst in speed. She knew that faking a status was possible, but faking skills and proficiency as a magic scholar was an entirely different concept. Her mind continued to think about possible theories before it narrowed in only one way they could've had the skills of a rogue along with a scholar.

"You sold your soul to a demon, didn't you?"

Ilemae ignored the Archmage, only hastening the speed of her blows and pressuring the magic-user. Although for a mage her physical abilities surpassed common sense, Cerebella found it difficult to avoid all the blows coming towards her.

"Joint Attack."

Although anti-magic fields prevented any sort of magic from occurring, mundane skills that required mana could still be used. It was entirely designed to counter sorcerers and expose them to their greatest weakness; physical combat. They were ridiculously expensive and required certain skills to create. The fact that Ilemae was able to build an entire room composed of anti-magic without being caught boggled Cerebella's mind.

Before the assassin could finish the job, a wordless Mana Shield was propped up to deflect her blow. Ilemae's eyes widened and she noticed the anti-magic field was deactivated. Colossal amounts of magic power swirled around the Archmage and her eyes went white as her strength was returned to her in full.

"Infusion."

An iridescent aura consisting of all elements. Darkness, light, lightning, earth, fire, water, and wind all came together in harmony to power her infusion spell. It was so dense that Ilemae could feel the very fabric of reality surrender to the woman's will. Space seemed to warp along the edges of her body. She continued to attack the barrier but quickly realized that nothing in her arsenal would be enough to break the spell. The walls of the tower and the personal room began to crumble, even though it was designed specifically to contain all sorts of magical effects. The assassin could see the ground a kilometer below and began to initiate her retreat.

Something held Ilemae in place. Unable to move her eyes, she could only watch as Cerebella floated towards her. Her hair floated and reflected the colors of all the elements surrounding her body, and her eyes had turned an unholy white. Numerous side-effects were imposed on Ilemae's body.

You have entered the domain of an ascendant.

All beneficial magical effects are negated and turned against you.

All magic-resistant skills will have reduced effectiveness in combat against the Archmage.

You have resisted the Fear status effect.

"Let's see what else you're hiding in that mind of yours." Her voice sounded ethereal and powerful, with a slight echo that reverberated throughout the assassin's ears.

Ilemae began to look sickly and the Archmage grew alarmed. She could tell that the human scholar was beginning to die before her and she employed the strongest healing skills in her arsenal to keep the woman alive. Empowered by the effects of Infusion, her healing prowess was on par with one of Pernatia's bishops and surpassed them in terms of sheer power.

You have healed target. +500 HP.

You have healed target. +500 HP.

Greater Restoration has no effect on target.

The elderly woman's eyes rolled to the back of her head, and Ilemae went completely limp. A dramatic effect began to occur as she died, the soul of her body being ripped out forcefully confirmed Cerebella's suspicions of a demon's involvement. It opened its mouth in a noiseless scream.

"No you don't. Soul Rip!"

Before the phantasm could go anywhere else, it froze in mid-air and began to convulse.

Soul Mastery is significantly lower than opponent's.

Even with her wide range of knowledge, Cerebella couldn't match the Soul Mastery level of a demon who had lived for centuries. A small avatar spawned beside Ilemae's soul. A miniature goblin that could fit in the palm of her hand gave the Archmage a crooked grin. Grey and wrinkled, it looked unflattering as it spoke in the abyssal tongue. Even under the effects of her domain, it took the situation very lightly.

Wohoho! The Archmage in all her glory! What brings you here, trying to take ownership of MY soul? Are you willing to make a trade with me?

"I don't have time to deal with you, Mammon. Tell me who's in charge of Ilemae or-"

OR ELSE WHAT?! You think I'm afraid of you? Watch your tone, upstart. I've forgotten more than you've ever learned. Just for that, the price of this human's soul doubled! Three-hundred thousand gold!

Cerebella's face twisted up in anger upon hearing the abyssal tongue. The way it echoed grated on her ears. It wasn't often that she dealt with the Demons of Solomon. They were entirely too difficult to handle and communicate with. The most normal one among them was Marbas, but even Cerebella didn't enjoy trading knowledge with the ancient devil.

Not going to say anything? Well, I suppose this one's all mine then. Farewell, little mage.

It disappeared along with Ilemae's soul, leaving Cerebella on her own with the corpse of her subordinate. She looked at it solemnly, saddened by the reveal of the elderly woman's true nature.

'She was a unique individual. A shame that she was with the Omen. Marco was right. They are far more sinister than I initially thought...'

As if the man was waiting for his cue, the chronomancer entered the private quarters with an alarmed expression on his face.

"Ma'am! I was able to disarm the anti-magic fields. It was drawing power from the R&D department's floor, and I initiated an emergency shutdown of the facilities. Are you alright?"

Cerebella shook her head. "I'm alright. I got the confirmation I needed. The Omen is involved with the demons, been using them to mask their agents. Likely some sort of powerful mind magic at work. Nothing was wrong with Ilemae until I accessed her mind."

"So Ilemae was a sleeper agent? I haven't heard of the Omen working with that sort of magic until recently..."

The Archmage stared at him with suspicion. "I'll need to inspect you as well, Marco. I hope you don't take it personally."

The chronomancer bowed his head subserviently. "I understand, ma'am."

She entered the man's mind and did a cursory inspection. It was in the form of a library, but the interior of the mindscape was warmly lit by candles. Cerebella had entered it a few times before and noticed how the size of the library grew to such a scale. Putting that aside the Archmage immediately began looking for any fluctuations with even greater effort and skill as she now knew what to look for. But unlike Ilemae, there was nothing to hide. Marco was in the clear, and she withdrew from the man's mindscape with ease.

"Have all the senior mages and scholars interrogated. We're nipping this in the bud, now. Get our best psionic and mind-mages on the case."

The time mage knew that Cerebella was enraged. Even when she strong-armed Samuel Warner, the Duke of the Idil Empire, it was closer to a warning than true anger. This time her expression was dark, and the Archmage's legendary magic power churned according to her emotions.

Many people held the notion that Cerebella's control of her mana was so superb that nobody could sense it unless she willed it to be. The truth of the matter was it was so large it blanketed the entire kingdom of Elway, making others believe that the kingdom was simply rich with mana. During that moment in the anti-magic field, the collective mana levels throughout Elway dropped by a significant margin. To a civilian, they wouldn't have felt much but mages and higher-level adventurers felt as though they were on a high-altitude mountain, losing their breath and having to adjust to the sharp drop.

She muttered to herself quietly. "First the Lanes Auction incident with Idil, now this? I should consider taking a vacation soon."

"Please refrain from doing so until this is resolved, ma'am. We have also found more information regarding the vampire prince that was attacked during the Finamore Tournament. It is a promising lead that would perhaps explain why the Omen would expose their operations now."

"Oh, do tell me more."

Jack Kellinton stuck to his original plan of staying away from Wisperium and laid low as possible. He almost collapsed in relief when reports of Joseph Devon departing from Elway came in. The criminal was thankful that the young heir of Wisperium hadn't said anything untoward about their brief clash to the dark swordsman.

Although his operations were toned down by a significant margin, the crooked man still had to make a profit somehow. He and his workers had families to provide for. Illicit drugs being distributed through the Black Market, Illegal gambling dens, and loan sharking provided enough to keep them afloat for now. Jack thought about escalating their operations to their original capacity.

"Sir! There's someone who wants to meet with you!" One of his minio-ahem, workers, burst into the door with an alarmed expression on their face. Jack distinctly remembered him as the one who was responsible for setting off the events that led to his office being raided.

"Who is it?" The minion's reaction set him on edge. Even the fact that he had an unexpected visitor was unusual.

"It's the Archmage! She says they need you for an investigation."

Jack felt like he aged forty years within a few seconds. His heart dropped upon hearing the legendary figure's name and trembled quietly. "If this is your idea of a prank, I'll have you buried six feet deep, you hear me?"

"Sir, I can assure you that this is no joke! She is waiting outside right now!" He hissed, doing a double-take at the doors downstairs. to ensure that the woman hadn't blown them off its hinges. The retired adventurer leaped off his seat and went down to keep the Archmage from waiting. He opened the door and took a peek.

Levitating slightly off the ground, a petite woman with iridescent hair and mesmerizing eyes looked at Jack with a small smile. Marco Solis, the most accomplished chronomancer in recent history stood behind her and Jack's heart rate began to spike.

"Hello, please come in and make yourselves at home." The brown-haired man opened it to let them in while his minions scrambled to line up and greet the two most powerful mages in the city. The two came in wordlessly, and Jack led them upstairs to where his office was. Panicking at the realization he only had two chairs, he moved his seat, a padded leather seat, and offered it to the duo.

"No need, we're only here to ask a few questions. You're not in trouble."

That didn't do anything to soothe his worries. Jack could only wonder what they were going to ask of him. He didn't even think about lying, fearing the consequences of what would happen if they knew. He couldn't risk having the entire office being atomized to minimize his punishment.

"We wanted to ask about your recent interactions with the champion from the Finamore Tournament last week. I trust that you know of Damien Rose? We saw reports of him entering this building."

The retired adventurer wondered what he did to deserve this. Seeing the white-eyed mage glower at him from behind was making him closer to losing control of his bowels.

"I...I provided information to Damien Rose's partner and he was here on behalf of him to provide payment."

"Can you tell us what they paid for?"

Although the man had a healthy amount of fear of the red-haired man and his vampire companion, it couldn't compare to the existential terror that the Archmage gave him. Jack grew up hearing stories about her exploits and was a witness to her power on several occasions. She was already touted as a peerless existence when he was still sucking on his mother's teats. Jack confessed immediately.

"He paid for information regarding the Lanes Auction House's security detail and the layout plan. I was coerced into it, he threatened me wi-"

Cerebella held her hand and he shut up immediately. A wordless discussion between Marco and the Archmage, using telepathy to silently communicate.

'Wisperium's prince is affiliated with the Omen? The evidence on the boxes was pretty clear. If so, then why would they attack him?'

'It's possible that Damien Rose and his collaborator were using the Omen's name as a way to throw us off their trail.'

Cerebella mulled over the theory much to Jack's stress. The silence was unbearable but he didn't even want to breathe while her gaze seemed so focused. After a minute she asked him another question.

"Do you know the suspect's name? What he looked like, anything we could use in our search."

"Erm, he's a red-haired man in his forties. About this tall, and heavy scarring along his face and neck. Likely a warrior or some sort of melee class like a rogue, he was a great deal stronger and faster than me."

The Archmage tilted her head in confusion. Even though she was a beautiful woman the mob boss couldn't appreciate it because Marco was still glowering at him. He did his best to avoid any sort of eye contact with the man but could still feel his stare burning a hole into the top of his head.

"...Thanks. That'll be it for today."

Just like that, the two vanished from his room and the retired adventurer clutched his heart and collapsed. One of the workers from downstairs heard the commotion and went to check on their boss and noticed him in his incapacitated state.

"The boss fell! We need to get him to the hospital!"

Meanwhile, the mages were floating back to the Tower of Magic and Marco decided to satisfy his curiosities. The city of Elway went about their regular life dozens of meters below. He wondered what conclusion the Archmage had come to after hearing the last answer.

"Do you recall that peculiar fellow I was teaching in the library? Curly hair, brown eyes, mildly attractive?"

The chronomancer did indeed, and he nodded.

"He was an illusionist. I had thought that he was a simple adventurer, but I am fairly sure he is behind the Lanes Auction House incident. The appearance that Mars Magesse reported of the thief matched that, and there are some similarities in that news clipping of the person who rushed Damien Rose to the infirmary."

Marco nodded. "I understand. I will immediately send out a notice for a wanted poster to be distributed immediately. Should we take the appropriate measures and establish contact with Wisperium?"

Cerebella shook her head. "Don't do anything just yet. Withhold the information for now. I'll need to confirm whether or not Damien Rose and Chester Everheart are truly affiliated with the Omen. It wouldn't do to antagonize Wisperium by putting a bounty on them. Besides, an illusionist that can disguise himself? It would be near impossible to catch him unless he was an idiot. They'd be long gone by now if they knew what was good for them."

She had her doubts on whether the clueless illusionist was truly a part of such a dastardly organization. There were better ways of approaching the Archmage, but she couldn't let go of the possibility due to what happened with Ilemae. Not to mention the fact that she approached him first. Their encounter would have never occurred had she just not spoken to him. Her senses didn't say anything about his appearance being deceitful, and she had great confidence in her ability to detect any sort of arcane irregularity.

"I can't believe I have to play detective. I'm not getting paid enough for this..."