110 Ivy
Leylin had previously refrained from acting, not out of fear, but to avoid inconvenience. However, the girl before him piqued his interest, prompting a change in his stance. The potential benefits from his successful research further motivated him.
Consequently, he was now inclined to act. Yet, in the interest of caution, he chose to remain a silent observer, assessing the strength of his adversaries.
If they proved to be of average might, he would not hesitate to act boldly. He would promptly abduct or coerce the girl to accompany him, undeterred by potential pursuers. However, if they were overwhelmingly powerful, he would have no choice but to abandon his plan. After all, the world was vast, and she was not the only one possessing a Warlock's bloodline. While they might be scarce on the South Coast, the Central Continent was teeming with them.
Days later, their carriage rolled into the district of York City, situated on the fringes of the Inlan Dukedom.
The old man's anxiety had escalated to its peak. He spent most of his time in the carriage, rarely venturing out. He guarded the little girl closely, as if fearful of some impending danger. He seemed to have forgotten about Leylin, no longer concerned about his lingering glances at the girl. He likely dismissed Leylin as a harmless pervert.
As night fell, a hazy grey blanketed the sky, with only a faint light visible on the distant horizon. The carriage came to a halt by the roadside, and the weary passengers disembarked, gathering around a bonfire to eat, drink, and rest.
The shared journey had fostered a sense of camaraderie among the carriage's occupants. A merchant, in particular, enlivened the atmosphere by playing an upbeat tune on his flute, accompanied by a beautiful woman who danced gracefully.
Several middle-aged men, hoping to curry favor, approached the woman with wine flasks retrieved from their sacks. The woman responded with laughter, seemingly not averse to their advances.
As the merriment peaked, singing and dancing ensued. Even the horse keeper, flushed from several swigs of strong wine, joined in the revelry.
Leylin, for his part, kept his distance from the main camp, leaning against a tree trunk, observing from the shadows. He held a golden flask in his hand, from which he occasionally sipped fine wine. He cast a glance at the horse carriage and smirked with malevolence.
Despite the sky having already darkened, the elderly man continued to insist that the carriage driver press on. However, traveling in the dead of night was fraught with danger and recklessness. They could potentially plunge off a cliff or encounter worse perils. Consequently, the driver and all the passengers dismissed his suggestion.
The elderly man's reaction was indeed a spectacle. Moreover, he had decided to remain within the horse carriage for the night, not allowing his granddaughter to stray even half a step from it. This sparked a flurry of unsavory rumors among the travelers.
Yet, Leylin understood that this duo, posing as a grandfather and his granddaughter, were fearful of their pursuers, hence their confinement in the horse carriage. Observing the situation, it seemed their pursuers were nearly upon them.
In fact, they had already arrived. Leylin turned his head and, with Aralis's assistance, detected several acolytes, who made no effort to conceal their energy wave emissions, lurking in a shadowy corner.
Based on the strength of the energy waves, they were all level 3 acolytes. Leylin was aware that a bloodbath was imminent, but he had no intention of intervening to save these people. As long as the acolytes didn't mess with his prize, they were free to indulge in their violent games.
With a shrug, he simply took another sip of his invigorating strongwine. To him, it was as harmless as drinking grape juice, given his immunity to the effects of alcohol.
Just then, by the encampment, a red arrow streaked through the night, finding its mark in the skull of a muscular man who was dancing shirtless by the fire.
A woman nearby was splattered with blood. Her face froze in shock, and it took her several seconds to release a piercing scream.
"Bandits!" "Help!" The camp erupted in panic.
The carriage driver reacted swiftly, donning a leather armor and taking refuge under the carriage, his arms wrapped protectively around his head.
The carriage companies had an unspoken agreement with the local bandits: they would rob the passengers but leave the drivers unharmed. This arrangement ensured a steady stream of victims for the bandits, delivered by the carriages.
But tonight, the agreement was broken, and the driver's precautions proved futile.
Another arrow, as red as the first, found its target in the driver's neck. He clutched at the wound, tears welling in his eyes and blood frothing at his lips. He gasped for air, as if trying to savor the freshness of his final breaths.
'A sharpening spell on the arrows? How pedestrian.'
Near the chaotic campsite, Leylin remained nonchalant, leaning against a tree. He took another sip of his wine, his expression indifferent. This spectacle of death promised no entertainment for him. His relaxed demeanor contrasted sharply with the pandemonium around him, yet he remained unnoticed, hidden in plain sight.
The second arrow sent the camp into further chaos. Men and women, young and old, all fled into the dark forest. Minutes later, the once lively camp was deserted, save for the crackling bonfire and the abandoned food and drink.
Then, three figures in black robes emerged from the forest. Leylin's keen eyes took in their appearance: two men and a woman, all middle-aged. The woman's lipstick was so thick it looked as though she had just feasted on blood.
The trio stood out from the crowd, their attire casual yet distinctive, adorned with the image of a dodo bird - a family emblem. They were acolytes who had been probably nurtured within the confines of their family. Such was a common practice among Magi House for those with less than stellar aptitudes who found the doors of academies closed to them.
The majority of such acolytes rarely advanced beyond level 2, yet these three had managed to reach level 3. This suggested either a natural aptitude or a past entwined with an academy, either as expelled students or graduates.
"Miles, show yourself! We know you're hiding in that carriage!" The silver-haired man called out, a smug grin on his face as they took on a triangular formation to surround the carriage.
In response, a red sigil materialized outside the carriage, casting a blazing fireball. The middle-aged man narrowly dodged the attack, and in the ensuing chaos, a shadowy figure carrying a smaller one on his shoulder slipped past him.
"Thought you could escape?" The woman smirked, quickly chanting an incantation. A speed-reducing spell enveloped the shadowy figure in a murky green light, slowing him down significantly.
The third member of the trio, an archer, wasted no time. His eyes flashed as he loosed a red arrow, which found its mark in the figure's left chest. The figure groaned, dropping the girl he was carrying and revealing himself to be an elderly man with a white beard.
"Why aren't you running now?" The man who had been the target of the fireball was in a sorry state. Seeing the old man on the ground, he drew a curved blade and maliciously hacked at the old man's left leg.
The old man's leg was severed instantly. Leylin, watching the scene, responded with a faint smile. On her part, the little girl fainted immediately after having blood spurting on her.
"Such a pretty little thing," the archer leered, licking his lips. "It'd be a shame to kill her outright… Perhaps I should have a bit of fun first."
"Take your time," came the reply from the leader. "We're not in any rush."
It was abundantly clear that the trio of acolytes held no respect for the elderly man, Miles. Their relaxed demeanor and lowered guard were testament to this.
Indeed, the reality was just as it appeared. Miles was merely a level 2 acolyte, and the young girl wasn't even an acolyte. A single level 3 acolyte could easily overpower such a group. The decision to send three was merely a precaution.
As the archer smirked lasciviously, a stern voice echoed from the forest. "Spare the girl, and you may continue unimpeded." Leylin stowed his flask and revealed himself, stepping into the campfire's glow.
"You… You didn't flee?" The acolyte leader was taken aback. Wasn't the typical response to witnessing a death to run, especially when magicians were involved?
"Perfect, I was looking to stretch my muscles after chasing this old man. I'll handle him." The sole female acolyte in the group eyed the attractive Leylin, her eyes sparkling. Her heavily painted lips opened and closed as if she wished to devour Leylin on the spot.
At present, Leylin's allure had significantly increased after his advancement to a Warlock, even without the use of his Illusory Aura. He had encountered numerous women who had flirted with him during his journey. He occasionally indulged them before ending their lives. However, this older woman repulsed him.
"I must apologize, but I have no interest in used-up, dried-up hags." Leylin's words were harsh yet sincere, and he executed his signature gentlemanly bow, causing the female acolyte's face to flush with rage.
"You impudent boy, I'll make you experience the most excruciating pain imaginable! If you're not groveling like a dog before me in an hour, I'll be impressed!" The female acolyte glared at Leylin as if she wished to tear a chunk of flesh from him right then and there.
"What a coincidence. I was about to say the same thing." Leylin's eyes glinted coldly as he briefly released his concealed energy waves. An overwhelming force field instantly enveloped the carriage area. It was fleeting, but more than sufficient.
"An… Official Magus!" The male leader of the trio's eyes bulged as he slumped to the ground.
"Lord… Please forgive our unintentional trespass!" The archer acolyte lost all interest in the young girl and promptly knelt before Leylin, internally cursing the wretched woman countless times.
"What's the matter, hag? Cat got your tongue?" Leylin taunted the female acolyte with a playful smirk.
"Lo… Lo… Lo…" The female acolyte collapsed to the ground, crying with her jaw quivering, unable to utter a single word.
"Esteemed Lord, we hail from the Yale family. Our patriarch is a recognized Magus!" The leader, noticing a hint of hostility in Leylin's gaze, quickly mentioned his group's backing in an attempt to pacify him.
"The Yale family?" Leylin responded, shaking his head to indicate his unfamiliarity with the name.
Having previously examined the prominent families within and surrounding the Poolfield Kingdom, Leylin did not recall encountering any family by the name of Yale.
[Doctor, here's the information I have gathered,] Aralis interjected, sensing her input was needed.
//
House Yale, nestled in the Denisque Province of the Inlan Dukedom, is led by Sam Yale. He began his journey as an acolyte at Sage Gotham's Hut and remarkably ascended to the rank of an official Magus at the age of thirty. This information is sourced from 'History of Magi Families' on page 1928.
//
This brief introduction, recorded by Aralis, suggested that House Yale was a nascent Magus family, heavily dependent on a Magus who had made an unexpected progression from acolyte status.
In comparison to the esteemed Lilytell family, House Yale is less influential and only marginally more powerful than Bicky's fallen family. Houses with such limited support were often categorized as minor players in the Magus World. In other words, Leylin had nothing to fear from these individuals or their backing.
"Hold, my Lord! I bear our family's secret imprint!" The leader, seeing Leylin poised for action, cried out in desperation, tearing at his clothing to bare his chest.
Leylin paused, an eyebrow raised in intrigue.
The secret imprint served as a communication tool among the official Magi. Each new Magus had the privilege of designing a unique sigil to represent themselves. This emblem could be left at specific locations for communication with subordinates or contacts. Some Magi even branded their agents with it, a symbol of their authority.
Leylin, naturally, had his own imprint. It was an inverted triangle within a circle, with a black serpent coiling upwards on the triangle. On the leader's chest, a blue dodo bird's head glowed with a pulsating blue light.
Initiating communication through the secret imprint demanded a significant amount of Spiritual Force and Magic Energy. Within minutes, the leader's face turned ashen.
Just as the leader seemed on the brink of collapse, the blue light intensified, and a blue dodo bird emerged from his chest, settling on his shoulder.
"Sulley, do you have something to discuss?"
The dodo bird, seemingly oblivious to Leylin, addressed the leader directly.
"My Lord, here's the situation…" The leader hastily whispered to the dodo bird, summarizing the events.
The secret imprint had its limitations; it could only transmit voices, not images. Moreover, without the support of a communications tower, the voices couldn't be transmitted over great distances.
"Salutations, young master," the dodo bird greeted Leylin after being briefed.
"It's a privilege to meet the patriarch of the Yale family, Sam Yale," Leylin responded, his voice rough and raspy, a side effect of his shapeshifting spell.
"I apologize on behalf of those family members foolish enough to offend you… However, I did instruct them to leave the girl unharmed, as per your request. Therefore, they can proceed as you suggested, correct?" The blue dodo bird had already returned to the leader's chest, transforming into a lifelike tattoo.
"You must be naive to expect mercy from a fellow Magus. They received a generous offer, yet they dared to threaten and offend me. They must pay the price in blood." Leylin's voice was casual, but it carried an unmistakable murderous intent. No one present misunderstood his seriousness.
"I see… that's unfortunate…" The dodo bird paused before proposing, "How about this: I can compensate you on their behalf for the inconvenience caused."
"Compensation?" Leylin bursted out laughing. "You jest, surely. No, I will kill them all. Teach your acolytes caution next time. Consider this a lesson, Sam Yale." Leylin extended a hand adorned with a silver ring, studded with a bright emerald.
"Not good, run!" The acolyte leader, realizing Leylin's disregard for the family head, hastily backed away.
"I think not." Leylin's eyes momentarily flashed a reptilian red, and three precise bolts of lightning erupted from his magic artifact, reducing the three hapless acolytes to ashes. Their speed was no match for the arcane electricity, making their escape attempt futile.
The Yale acolytes, in Leylin's presence, were as fragile as paper. The secret imprint, naturally, couldn't transmit any attacks. Exploiting this limitation, Leylin chose to execute them on the spot, leaving Sam Yale to watch helplessly as his servant disintegrated, followed by his own avatar.
Leylin had anticipated this scenario. His voice, altered by his shapeshifting spell, ensured the Yale family could never identify him. Furthermore, he had no intention of remaining in the Inlan Dukedom. Once he departed, the other party would be powerless.
Approaching the bleeding old man, Leylin noticed the unconscious girl, her face streaked with tears.
"Lord… Lord Magus! Spare my granddaughter, I implore you!" The old man's face was a mask of shock. Clearly, he hadn't expected his fellow carriage passenger to be an official Magus.
Silently, Leylin knelt to examine the old man's wounds. They were severe. A commoner would surely succumb to such injuries. Even for a level 2 acolyte like the old man, survival beyond 10 hours seemed unlikely.
Leylin could have healed the old man instantly, but he wouldn't waste resources on someone he deemed worthless. The old man lacked a Warlock's bloodline, so Leylin had nothing to gain from saving him.
"Your pathetic existence is of no consequence to me. Thus, I will end your suffering." Leylin's voice was casual, as if he derived pleasure from the scene.
"What…?! Never mind my fate…" The old man whispered, tears welling in his eyes. "I only care for the girl's safety… Will you promise to take her to Great Canyon Margaret, to Marian…? I swear you will forever be a friend of the Langster family!" The man pleaded.
Leylin paused, weighing his options before deciding the girl's fate.
"Perhaps I will, perhaps I won't. Regardless, you won't be around to witness it," Leylin declared, his face twisted into a malevolent grin. His shadowy tendrils pierced through Miles' chest and back, rapidly sapping the old man of his life force and reducing him to a withered husk.
With a chuckle, Leylin manipulated his tendrils to pulverize Miles' body into minuscule fragments, casually discarding them beneath the carriage. He didn't even consider using his acidic solution to dissolve the remains.
Subsequently, he approached the sleeping girl, gently rousing her from her slumber.
"Grandpa Miles!" The moment she awoke, the little girl cried out, flinging herself at Leylin in her distress. "Where is he?! Where's grandpa?! Is he alright?!"
A single, insincere tear trickled down Leylin's cheek as he replied, "I'm afraid he sacrificed himself for us, dear child. He perished battling three villains, and his final spell vanquished them all… Your grandpa Miles remained a hero until his last breath…"
The girl's incessant crying almost made Leylin forget the amusement he derived from the situation, and he briefly contemplated silencing her permanently by crushing her neck. However, he managed to maintain his composure.
"There, there, my dear," Leylin consoled the girl, who instinctively sensed his sincerity. She felt secure in his sturdy embrace and continued to weep.
After a few minutes, Leylin spoke again. "Before he passed, your grandpa made a request of me."
Upon hearing this, the girl looked up at Leylin with anticipation.
"He implored me to escort you to the Great Canyon Margaret," Leylin continued. "To shield you from any danger. And that's precisely what I intend to do, as a means of honoring my debt to your grandpa… If you'll permit me, of course." His voice was gentle and soothing, exuding an aura of trustworthiness.
The young girl nodded, her sobs punctuating the silence. Leylin, his smirk concealed beneath his mask, gently took her hands into his own.
"From this day forward," he began, his voice steady and commanding, "you will heed my every instruction. Remember, I am a venerable Magus. Any command I give is for your benefit. Do you comprehend?"
"I… I understand…" The girl's voice was barely a whisper, muffled by her sobs as she clung to Leylin's dark robe.
A confident smile played on Leylin's lips, satisfaction washing over him at her easy acquiescence.
"Grandpa Miles! Grandpa Miles!" The girl's cries of sorrow echoed once more.
Patiently, Leylin stood aside, waiting for her tears to subside. After a dozen minutes, he spoke, "While you were unconscious, I performed the necessary funeral rites for your grandfather. Perhaps you'd like to pay your respects to his gravestone…"
Nonchalantly, Leylin gestured towards a reasonably sized rock. With a simple incantation, he etched Miles' name onto it. The girl, none the wiser, knelt beside it, whispering words of love and loss, believing her grandfather lay beneath.
As if struck by a sudden thought, Leylin turned to the girl, "My apologies, but could you tell me your name? I never had the chance to ask Miles."
"Ivy Langster… my Lord Magus…" Her voice was raspy from crying, yet it held a note of reverence.
Despite not being an acolyte, Ivy had been raised in a Magus family. Hence, she understood the implications of the title.
|=|=|=|=|=|=|=|
An hour later, after extracting more information from Ivy, Leylin had a clearer understanding of House Langster and its affiliations.
House Langster was a small family, rumored to possess the legacy of an incomplete meditation technique. However, the dilution of their Warlock bloodline and the lack of a Magus for generations had reduced their standing in the Magus World. Their situation worsened two centuries ago when their incomplete meditation technique was lost in a tragic incident.
The constraints of Warlocks lay in their bloodline, as they could only cultivate techniques compatible with their lineage. Standard mind-rune constructs of acolyte techniques were of no use to them. Thus, the family's decline was inevitable, given their consistent failure to produce a Magus.
It was highly probable that they lacked even an acolyte now, resorting to adopting orphans to make up for the dearth of descendants, which only served to further dilute their bloodline power.
As for Miles, he was one of these adopted acolytes, serving as a housekeeper for the Langster family. A month prior, the Yale family, coveting the Langster's wealth, had declared war against them.
Ivy, the sole survivor of her family, was left orphaned by the war. Miles, a loyal and brave Langster servant, managed to rescue Ivy and planned to seek asylum for her at the Great Canyon Margaret, a sanctuary run by a friend of Ivy's parents. Consequently, Ivy, now under Leylin's protection, became the last descendant of the Langster family.
Upon learning this, Leylin was somewhat pleased. However, he felt a sense of disdain towards the Langsters, a family with Warlock origins, for their decline. He believed that a truly strong Warlock lineage wouldn't have fallen into such a state. Nevertheless, Leylin intended to exploit this situation to his advantage.
Of course, he would not let this notion fuel a stupid desire for revenge to the Langster family. However, if the leader of the Yale family happened to stand in his way, that would be a different story.
"Let's get moving, girl," Leylin said, taking Ivy's hand as they embarked on their journey.
Leylin was ready to escort Ivy to the Great Canyon Margaret. His decision wasn't driven by a sudden surge of altruism, but rather a calculated plan.
Firstly, he needed Ivy's cooperation for some experiments to yield optimal results. Secondly, the Great Canyon Margaret was already on Leylin's itinerary, so this detour wouldn't hinder his progress. Moreover, if Leylin found additional uses for Ivy during their journey, he would certainly not hand her over to Marian.
On a completely different note, Leylin did not eliminate any possibilities of doing good deeds within his means to increase his reputation. However, it had to be under the conditions that it would not come across his personal benefits in any way.
Even if faced with a death curse, Leylin would never resort to something as imprudent as altruism. Such a notion was inconceivable to him. However, if he could effortlessly achieve certain objectives and build a solid reputation in the process, he would be more than willing. For Leylin, reputation was not just a form of resource, but a tangible benefit.
"There's something else, dear Ivy," Leylin said nonchalantly. "I have a certain interest in your family's bloodline. I'll need your cooperation for some experiments, but that's for later. There's no need for you to worry about it now."
As darkness fell, Leylin's vision turned crimson red, a sight hidden from others thanks to his body-morphing spell. This was one of his innate abilities, granting him night vision.
Upon speaking, he felt Ivy's hand tremble noticeably.
"As you command, my Lord Magus," Ivy responded after a pause, her voice shaky.
"Intelligent and obedient? It seems we'll make an excellent team. From now on, you won't refer to me as 'Lord Magus'. To you, I am 'Master', and nothing else. Do you understand?" Leylin said, releasing a hint of his Illusory Aura to subtly influence Ivy.
Ivy's compliance and maturity pleasantly surprised Leylin, who had initially thought he would need to exert some effort to manage her. By using his abilities to ensure her obedience, Leylin had basically acquired a new, much more useful slave at zero cost.
He gently patted Ivy on the head and lifted her into his arms.
"Mas… Master… I live to serve you," Ivy softly responded, her voice as melodious as a bird's song.
Leylin smiled and patted Ivy on the back. Quickening his pace, the pair swiftly vanished into the darkness.
