2024-07-22 10:30:34
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Chapter 357
The city woke to a single word. “Spellbound.”It traveled faster than rumor, slipping past gates, into alleyways, and across the docks. By sunrise, every street corner buzzed with whispering scholars, merchants, and city guards alike. The name was on lips and in every comm-slate across Glassview: Caster Spellbound was alive.No one knew exactly how. No one knew exactly why. And no one had any choice but to watch.The Grand Academic Forum had become the stage for history. Scholars in layered robes jostled for position; city guards cordoned off thoroughfares, unsure if the surge of citizens was a spontaneous demonstration or the first wave of rebellion. Floating recorder-orbs hovered in precise formation, capturing every angle for guilds, media houses, and civic records. Every rooftop bore a silent observer, every alley a witness. And yet, in the center of it all, a single door remained closed, heavy, and unyielding.Inside, the hall smelled faintly of wax and polished stone. Caster
Chapter 356
The bell rang once. Not an alarm. Not an announcement. A single tone rolled through the academic tower, low and metallic, vibrating through stone and glass alike. It was a sound meant to mark transitions. Class changes. Administrative summons.Caster stopped walking. The corridor around him did not. Students passed, some arguing quietly, others clutching tablets and rune-sheets. A pair of junior mages laughed near a window. No one reacted to the bell beyond routine habit.Caster’s eyes lifted. The mana grid tightened. Not violently. Precisely. He felt it lock into new patterns around the tower’s lower floors, threads snapping into place like a net being drawn closed.The second bell rang. This one carried weight. A student staggered mid-step, hand flying to her chest. Another dropped his notes as the air thickened, pressure pushing down from above.Caster turned sharply and stepped into an alcove between two pillars. The illusion around him shimmered.He pressed two fingers against
Chapter 355
The ritual chamber lay beneath Twin Moons headquarters, sealed below three layers of reinforced stone and sigil-locked steel. No windows. No banners. No insignia.Only a wide circular floor of black marble veined with pale silver lines that curved like orbital paths. The air was cold, not from temperature, but from absence. Sound entered the room and died quickly, as if swallowed.Director Lyra stood at the center. She wore a simple dark robe, unmarked, sleeves loose around her wrists. Her pale hair fell straight down her back. Her bare feet rested on the central sigil, heels aligned with its axis.Around her, six assistants knelt at equal distance, each positioned at a lunar node etched into the floor. They wore Consortium robes and bore no weapons. Their heads were bowed. Their hands rested flat against the stone. No one spoke. The chamber pulsed once.Lyra lifted her hands. The silver lines in the floor brightened, flowing outward, then curving back toward the center. The sigil
Chapter 354
The first sign was the wind. It moved against the natural flow of the city, pushing low across the stone streets instead of rising. Dust slid sideways. Hanging banners twisted on their cords, then went still again. Caster stood on the roof of the auxiliary archive tower, coat unmoving, eyes fixed on the horizon.Glassview’s mana grid pulsed beneath the city like a second heartbeat. He did not need a focus lens anymore. He felt it directly. Each leyline anchor marked itself in his awareness, bright and ordered, interlocked in careful symmetry. And threaded through them, Something wrong.Caster raised his hand and traced a sigil in the air. The symbol did not glow. It simply existed, locking into the grid. Information flowed back to him in pressure and resistance.Necrotic mana. Thin. Patient. Embedded deep. He closed his fingers. The sigil collapsed.Below him, a group of students crossed the courtyard. One paused, rubbed his arms, and looked up at the sky.“Did you feel that?” the
Chapter 353
The first ripple passes through Glassview before dawn. No sound marks it. No light. The air tightens, then loosens, as if the city exhales after holding its breath too long. Windows shiver. Loose parchment slides across desks. Mana lamps flicker, dim, then burn steady again.In the upper districts, birds lift from rooftops all at once, startled, wings beating in uneven bursts.In the lower wards, a beggar pauses mid-step, hand pressed to a stone wall as frost creeps over his fingers and then fades.In the academic quarter, every mana-sensitive array stutters. Students wake choking on the taste of iron. Professors sit upright in bed, palms glowing without intent, runes spilling from their skin before snapping back into control. In the towers, senior scholars grip railings as the floors hum beneath their feet. Something has shifted. Not exploded. Not broken. Returned.Caster steps out into the morning street. The sky is pale, washed clean by early light. Cloud cover hangs thin and un
Chapter 352
The candles were already burning when Caster entered the chamber. They lined the walls in uneven rows, fixed into iron brackets hammered directly into the stone. No enchantments fueled them. No mana fed their flames. Each wick burned on oil alone, flickering low, casting thick shadows that pressed inward.The room felt smaller than it should have been. Mirrored sigils covered the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. They were etched shallow but precise, each one reflecting the next, forming a closed loop. The symbols did not glow. They waited.Sikoa sealed the door behind him. The sound of stone locking into place echoed once, then died.She checked the corridor seal again, palm pressed flat, eyes unfocused as she listened for movement beyond the wards. Nothing answered.Solon stood near the center circle, sleeves rolled back, hands stained with alchemical residue. Three stabilizer vials sat in a triangle around a low stone basin. Thin lines of powder connected them to the basin’s ri
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