Chapter 83
last update2024-08-08 22:59:44

The profits from the magic scrolls were good, but at most, Caster worked like five regular mana scribes. He wasn’t a magicsmith yet, and the real money was in making reusable gear for adventurers or soldiers.

Getting a good commission from the noble lords to outfit their armies could make more money than selling to adventurers.

“Aye, the brat is working hard. He even asked me for smithing books…”

The demon said while the elf man smiled.

“He’s going to change classes again already…”

The two wer
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    BANG! BANG! BANG! The sudden, loud knocking on the fake brick door made everyone in the underground safehouse jump.Archmage Caster Spellbound held his breath. He gripped his wooden walking stick. Next to him, Sikoa pulled her two sharp steel daggers from her belt. Solon backed away, his face turning pale white. The red magical alarm lights in the room flashed quickly.Someone was in the alleyway. Someone knew their secret hiding spot.Sikoa moved silently to the brick door. She pressed her ear against the cold stone. She listened for a second."It is okay," Sikoa whispered, lowering her daggers. She let out a long breath. "It is the secret knock. It is one of my scouts."She pushed a hidden lever. The brick wall swung open.A young boy fell through the doorway. He landed hard on the dusty floor. He was about fifteen years old, wearing ragged brown clothes. He was panting heavily. His face was covered in dark soot, and he had a fresh cut on his forehead."Kip!" Sikoa said, rushing to

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    Caster sat in stunned silence. He had thought his biggest problem was protecting Lysane and the children. He had thought he could just put his head down, mix some harmless defensive potions, and ride out the war in a quiet concrete room. He was completely wrong.He was standing in the very center of a massive, ticking time bomb. The moment General Verne realized how valuable his physical body was, the deal would be broken. The velvet trap would turn into an iron cage of torture. He was the key to the ultimate weapon."If I run away now, Verne will send her assassins to kill Lysane," Caster whispered, running his hands through his messy gray hair. "If I stay, she will eventually put me on a dissection table.""You are caught between a hammer and an anvil," Sikoa said sadly."There has to be a third option," Caster muttered. His brilliant, genius mind began to spin. He thought about the complex math of the universe. He thought about alchemy. He thought about the arrogance of politician

  • Chapter 568

    "The High Council is broadcasting to the entire city that the Blackthorn Corruption is a terrible plague," Caster said, his eyes wide. "They are telling the normal citizens that mages are carrying a deadly sickness. They are creating panic in the streets. They are telling people to stay away from the ash.""And while the public runs away in terror," Sikoa finished the thought, "the politicians are quietly putting the ash into boxes and taking it to their secret laboratories.""They are weaponizing it," Caster whispered.The realization was a nightmare.Caster had drawn the Runic Inversion Sigil to save the world. He had pushed the Ash Warden out of the mortal realm. But when his dark core had shattered, the residual essence of the dark god had rained down on the city.The ash was highly volatile. It was concentrated consequence. It was pure, raw entropy. It ate magic. It dissolved stone. If you put that ash into a glass bomb and threw it at an enemy army...The explosion would not jus

  • Chapter 567

    Sikoa crossed her arms. "I thought you were dead. The whole city thinks the Rogue Vector is hiding in the woods, eating children.""The rumors are slightly exaggerated," Caster said softly."I told you he would survive," a second voice said.A man walked out from behind a broken wooden bar. He was very tall and incredibly thin. He wore a neat, gray suit that was completely out of place in the dirty tavern. He wore thick, round glass spectacles over his pale eyes. His fingers were permanently stained with black ink.His name was Solon. He was an old ally. He used to be the Chief Archivist of the lower libraries before the Council fired him for asking too many questions. Solon loved paper. He loved secrets. He was methodical, quiet, and brilliant.Solon walked over and wrapped his long, thin arms around Caster in a tight hug."It is a miracle to see you breathing, my friend," Solon whispered, stepping back and pushing his glasses up his nose. "When the Sage Tower fell, I thought the wor

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    General Verne did not yell. She did not pull a sword. She did not threaten to shoot him like Valen Cross had done. She simply walked calmly back to her steel desk. She opened the top drawer."I respect a man with strong morals, Caster," Verne said softly, almost politely. "It is a rare and beautiful thing. But morals are a luxury for people who have nothing to lose."She pulled a single, glowing magical photograph out of the drawer. She walked back to Caster and held the photograph up right in front of his face.Caster looked at the picture. His heart stopped beating. The blood in his veins turned to solid ice.The photograph showed a wide, green field in the wild lands. It showed a small camp of tents.Walking through the grass was a woman with snow-white hair and bandaged hands. She was holding the hand of a brave twelve-year-old boy named Finn, and a small girl named Elara walked right behind them. They looked tired, but they looked safe.They were not safe."Where did you get this

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